THE ETHICAL PROBLEM
 
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 THE 
 
 ETHICAL PROBLEM 
 
 THREE LECTURES 
 
 ON ETHICS AS A SCIENCE 
 
 BY 
 
 DR. PAUL CARUS 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 ENLARGED BY A DISCUSSION OF THE SUBJECT BY 
 
 WILLIAM M. SALTER, JOHN MADDOCK, F. M. HOLLAND, 
 
 PROF. FRIEDRICH JODL, DR. R. LEWINS, PROF. 
 
 II. HOEFFDING, PROF. L. M. BILLIA 
 
 WITH REPLIES BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 LONDON AGENTS: 
 
 Kegam Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co. 
 
 1899
 
 
 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 This second edition of T/ie Ethical Problem contains be- 
 sides the original three lectures the entire controversy that was 
 thereby elicited, and also the author's replies to some prominent 
 thinkers holding different views on the subject. The history of the 
 lectures, the occasion of their delivery, and the incidents through 
 which the controversy originated, are sufficiently explained in the 
 preface of the first edition, which with a few unimportant altera- 
 tions is here republished in its original form. While the circum- 
 stances under which the three lectures and the ensuing controver- 
 sies originated are indifferent, they served to ventilate some of 
 the most important questions of ethics, such as the nature of con- 
 science, the distinction between moral law and moral rules, the 
 ultimate basis of morality, the relation of pleasure and pain to 
 moral motives and kindred topics. 
 
 p. c.
 
 PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 The ethical problem has come into great prominence in these 
 days. The importance of ethics has been brought home to us more 
 than ever. An ethical movement is taking place, affecting all the 
 interests of humanity. Chairs of ethics have been created in our 
 universities, and the churches are more and more urged to set 
 aside for awhile their useless disputes about dogmas and to devote 
 themselves to ethical work. Yet it has been found that it is impos- 
 sible for the churches to set aside their dogmatic creeds for the 
 sake of ethics, because these creeds form the very basis of their 
 ethics ; that which religious people conceive to be ethical depends 
 upon their religion ; they cannot ignore the dogmas, for the dogmas 
 are the very instruments of their morality ; they are the guides that 
 teach and advise them as to their conduct in life. If the dogmas 
 of the churches have for some reason become unsuitable as a basis 
 of ethics, and I believe that at least in their traditional interpreta- 
 they have indeed become so, the churches cannot simply ignore 
 them ; they will have to revise them, and the revision will have to 
 be made with special reference to their ethical importance. 
 
 An important sign of the times, proving the great prominence 
 of the ethical movement, is the foundation of the Societies for Eth- 
 ical Culture. These societies are devoted to the advancement of 
 the ethical movement, and many earnest friends of progress have 
 watched their development with the keenest interest. The 0^e7i 
 Court having been founded to afford a place for the discussion of 
 philosophical and ethical subjects with the purpose in view of estab- 
 lishing ethics and religion upon a scientific basis, has devoted con- 
 siderable space to the publication and examination of the views 
 brought forward by leaders of the Societies for Ethical Culture. 
 Yet in spite of all the agreement that obtained between the ten-
 
 vi THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 dency of The O^en Court and the aims of the Societies for Ethical 
 Culture a mutual understanding on the most important point, viz., 
 that concerning the basis of ethics, could not be arrived at. The 
 Ethical Record, of Philadelphia, maintained that the Societies for 
 Ethical Culture had taken special care not to commit themselves 
 to any religious or philosophical view, while The Of en Court de- 
 clared that some religious or philosophical view was indispensable. 
 Ethics must have a basis to rest upon. Without a philosophical 
 or religious view that gives character to the different conceptions 
 of what is to be considered as good or bad, ethics would be an im- 
 possibility. 
 
 The standpoint taken by The Open Court was embodied in a 
 short article which is here reproduced : 
 
 THE BASIS OF ETHICS AND THE ETHICAL MOVE- 
 MENT. 
 
 "We are strongly in sympathy with the Societies for Ethical 
 Culture, because among all the liberal movements of ethical aspi- 
 rations they show the greatest sincerity and earnestness with re- 
 gard to moral ideals. Yet there is a point of fundamental impor- 
 tance in which we have not as yet been able to ascertain whether 
 we agree or disagree with them. It is the problem as to what is 
 the basis of ethics. The solution of this problem is for every one 
 of greatest importance ; it must become the corner-stone of the eth- 
 ical movement, and it is concerning the problem and its solution 
 that we are anxious to come to a mutual understanding. 
 
 ' The Ethical Record says : ' We think there is some lack of 
 clearness as to what a basis of ethics means. ' 
 
 "The basis of ethics is the 'reason why' man must regulate 
 his actions in a certain way, and thus it is the philosophical foun- 
 dation upon which ethics rests. The moral 'ought,' which in- 
 volves that which we call good, depends upon the basis of ethics. 
 Our definition of ' good ' will be different according to the differ- 
 ent answers given to the question, Why must I feel bound by any 
 'ought' or ' moral law ' ? 
 
 "It might be maintained that a philosophical foundation of 
 ethics is of secondary importance : the first demand is to obey the 
 moral 'ought.' And certainly we admit that action is more than 
 knowledge. But let us not forget that ethics, if it means anything, 
 is the regulation of action conformably to some principle or
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 maxim. The ethical man is first of all a thinking man. He acts 
 in a certain way because he considers this kind of action as good 
 and another as bad. What would ethical action be without the 
 ethical principle by which we have to regulate it ? 
 
 "Man 'considers' something as good, we say. But the ques- 
 tion is not what a man considers as good. The question is, 
 What are good, and what bad, actions ? Professor Adler says : 
 ' Concerning them (the facts of moral obligation) there is a general 
 agreement among good men and women everywhere.' This is an 
 ethics of mere conventionalism. Moreover, that general agree- 
 ment is an error ; for while the Spartan thought stealing without 
 being caught was a virtue, the Athenian considered it a shame. 
 Yet Professor Adler limits the agreement concerning these facts as 
 obtaining 'among good men and women ' This would stamp 
 everybody who disagrees with Professor Adler, as bad ; and that 
 can scarcely be his meaning. 
 
 "The answer given by The Ethical Record to the question, 
 Why should we act morally ? is : ' We conceive that the obliga- 
 tion of justice and love is self-evident to rational beings.' This 
 conception of ethics would be intuitionalism, a theory which we 
 thought belonged to the dead past. 
 
 "Justice and love are admirable words, but they are too gen- 
 eral to give a clear idea regarding what they mean. We all agree 
 that justice and love must be the impulses of our actions. In the 
 name of justice and love the anarchists demand the abolition of all 
 law, the nationalists demand the removal of ' wolfish ' competition, 
 the single-taxer asks for the confiscation of land, and for justice 
 and love charitable people feed paupers. How widely different 
 must their conceptions of justice and love be ! 
 
 "Schopenhauer says : ' Moral predigen ist leicht, Moral be- 
 griinden schwer ' (to preach morals is easy, but to place it upon a 
 philosophical foundation is difficult). 
 
 "llie Ethical Record says; 'The ethical movement has 
 taken special pains not to commit itself to the philosophical views 
 of its lecturers." The ethical lecturers represent the ethical move- 
 ment, and if the ethical movement has taken particular pains not 
 to commit itself to their views, this is equivalent to saying that it 
 has no views whatsoever. The ethical movement, we are informed, 
 ' made a statement of its aim (in the constitution of the ' ' Union ") 
 after mature consideration, and expressly welcomes to its fellow- 
 ship those who sympathize with its aim (the elevation of the moral
 
 viii THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 life) zvhatever their theological or philosophical opinions. ' How 
 can we have a common aim in the ' elevation of moral life,' if we 
 are not agreed upon %vhat a moral life is, if our philosophical opin- 
 ions about good and bad difEer ? If the ethical movement welcomes 
 people of any creed and of no creed, they cannot expect that its 
 members will have the same or even a similar and harmonious 
 ethical ideal. 
 
 ' ' Peoples of various opinions may very well band themselves 
 together for the purpose of searching for the truth and discussing 
 it; but the ethical societies are apparently not debating clubs. 
 
 " To have an opinion and to dare to be of one's opinion ; to 
 stand up for it bravely ; and in case we have not as yet an opinion 
 of our own, to search for it and have no rest until we have found 
 it, — this is the very first step in ethics, the most indispensable con- 
 dition of ethics. The man who has a wrong opinion and holds it 
 in good faith is more ethical than he who waives the question. 
 How can we, when building a good house adapted to our needs, 
 invite all our neighbors to assist us, whatever be their opinions 
 with regard to the plan of the house, with regard to what must be 
 understood by a good house ? 
 
 " Before we commence building let us have a plan. Philo- 
 sophical views and also theologies are by no means mere theories 
 having no practical value. They are, or rather they become, if 
 they are accepted as true, the maxims and regulative principles of 
 our actions ; and any ethics without a philosophical view back of 
 it is no ethics, but ethical sentimentality. It is like a wanderer in 
 search of a goal, who has lost his way and does not care to be in- 
 formed about the right direction. 
 
 " We maintain that dogmatic religion can no longer serve as a 
 basis for ethics. We no longer believe in the possibility of a su- 
 pernatural revelation, and search for another and a natural reason 
 why we should live morally. If the ethical teacher preaches the 
 moral ought, everybody in his audience has the right to ask the 
 question : ' By what authority do you sustain this command ? ' 
 If the moral ought of the ethical teacher is merely an expression 
 of his individual opinion, he has no right to preach it to others. If 
 he no longer believes in the supernatural God, he must give ac- 
 count of that God who gave him the authority to preach. 
 
 "The Ethical Society, as I understand it, has been founded 
 because, in the opinion of its members, dogmatic religion no longer 
 sufifices as a basis of ethics. But if the leaders of the Ethical So-
 
 PREFACE. ix 
 
 ciety refuse to lay a new basis this undertaking has no meaning. 
 We deem it their duty that they should speak out boldly and with 
 no uncertain voice. A non-committal policy in the face of other 
 views, religious as well as philosophical, is just as good as giving 
 up the attempt altogether. 
 
 " Many clergymen and many rabbis are very clear-sighted on 
 this matter ; they seem to know the needs of the time ; they ear- 
 nestly and judiciously work for a purification of religion. And we 
 wish that those who profess to carry out the ideal of the present 
 age, namely, the foundation of a purely ethical religion, should 
 not remain behind ; they should know, and if they do not know, 
 they should search for, the ground upon which we are to stand. 
 The question, ' What is the basis of ethics ? is of paramount im- 
 portance to all of us, to the religious dogmatist, to the freethinker, 
 and above all to the members of the Societies for Ethical Culture. 
 The success of the ethical movement will in the end depend upon 
 how their leaders solve this question." 
 
 THE THREE LECTURES ON ETHICS. 
 
 Soon after the publication of this article, which appeared in 
 No, 140 of The Ofcn Court, the board of trustees of the Society 
 for Ethical culture of Chicago invited the editor of The Ofen 
 Court to present his views of ethics in a series of lectures. These 
 lectures were delivered in Emerson Hall on the first, second, and 
 third Sundays of June, 1890, at 11 a. m. 
 
 These three lectures on the Ethical Problem delineate a sys- 
 tem of ethics which is based upon a unitary conception of the 
 world. This system takes exception to the vagueness of The Eth- 
 ical Record, whose ethics as a matter of principle has no founda- 
 tion ; and it attempts to settle the dispute between Intuitionalists 
 and Utilitarians. Objection is made to Intuitionalists because of 
 their supernaturalism, to Utilitarians because of a mistaken inter- 
 pretation of the facts of nature. 
 
 Perhaps the best defence of Intuitionalism is made by Pro- 
 fessor H. Sidgwick of Cambridge, who in his personal attitude is 
 neither a Utilitarian nor an Intuitionalist. But since he considers 
 the moral ought as an "ultimate and unanalysable fact" (see 
 Mind, October, 1889) he is to be classed among Intuitionalists. 
 
 Mr. John Stuart Mill defines Utilitarianism as follows: " The 
 " creed which accepts as the foundation of morals Utility, or the
 
 X THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 " Greatest Happiness Principle, holds that actions are right in pro- 
 " portion 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 most prominent Utilitarians of the living generation 
 against whose doctrines the ethics here defended are set forth are 
 Mr. Spencer of England, Madame Clemence Royer of France, 
 Professor Georg von Gizycki of Berlin, and Professor Harald 
 Hoffding of Copenhagen.* 
 
 The data of Mr. Spencer's system of ethics are well known to 
 all English readers. 
 
 Madame Royer, in her latest book on ethics, advance sheets 
 of which were kindly sent me by the author, pursues the same di- 
 rection as Mr. Spencer. In the Conclusion she defines ' ' the good 
 as the sum of pleasurable feelings { jouissa?tces senties) in all con- 
 
 *The great English historian of European morals, W. E. H. Lecky, leads 
 us to infer that ethical systems must be either intuitional or utilitarian. He 
 does not take into consideration that there might arise a theory of ethics in 
 opposition to these " two rival theories of morals." And yet there is a great 
 English thinker who is not an Intuitionalist and at the same time stands in 
 strong opposition to the favorite doctrines of our most prominent utilita- 
 tarians. W. K. Clifford says in his essay "The Scientific Basis of Morals" : 
 
 "The end of Ethic is not the greatest happiness of the greatest number. 
 Your happiness is of no use to the community, except in so far as it tends to 
 make you a more efficient citizen — that is to say, happiness is not to be de- 
 sired for its own sake but for the sake of something else. If any end is 
 pointed to, it is the end of increased efficiency in each man's special work, 
 as well as in the social functions which are common to all. A man must 
 strive to be a better citizen, a better workman, a better son, husband, or 
 father. 
 
 "Again, Piety is not Altruism. It is not the doing good to others as oth- 
 ers, but the service of the community by a member of it, who loses in that 
 service the consciousness that he is anything different from the community." 
 
 Professor Wilhelm Wundt expresses similar ideas, rejecting both, utili- 
 tarianism and intuitionalism, in his Ethik: Eine Utiierstichung der Thatsachen 
 und Gesetzc des sittlichcn Lebens (Stuttgart, 1886). 
 
 If the generation of pleasurable feelings is not the aim of ethics it fol- 
 lows as a matter of logical consequence that altruism is just as wrong as ego- 
 tism. The aim of ethics is neither the welfare of self nor that of other indi- 
 viduals but of those interests that are super-individual. 
 
 Such men as Professor Clifford and Professor Wundt are certainly not 
 benighted by theological prejudices or vague a priori speculations. They 
 stand upon the solid ground of mathematical and empirical methods, and I 
 value an agreement with these thinkers highly.
 
 PREFACE. xi 
 
 scious beings ; the bad as the sum of their sufferings." The moral 
 good is the remedy of the bad, it tends to decrease the sum of the 
 bad and to increase the sum of the good. 
 
 Madame Royer's book is clear and to the point ; the style is 
 lucid, and not the least interesting part of her work is her attempt 
 to define the absolutely good of the Universe in terms of pleasur- 
 able feelings by the help of algebraic formulas — a method, that 
 from her standpoint must be considered as the only correct way of 
 making ethics a science. I have anticipated this error, in Fimda- 
 moital r>-oblc77is, p. 217, where it is said that "ethics is not an 
 arithmetical example by which to calculate how we can purchase, 
 at the least sacrifice, the greatest amount of happiness." 
 
 In her Preface Madame Royer says in an italicised passage : 
 " That which increases in the world the quantity of conscious ex- 
 istence is good, that which diminishes it is bad." I consider it as 
 a proved fact, that consciousness is caused by pain.* An unsatis- 
 fied want intensifies our dim feelings, and renders them conscious ; 
 and a perfect adaptation makes consciousness sink again into the 
 dream-like state of unconscious soul-life. Human life is so in- 
 tensely conscious because man has constantly to adapt himself to 
 new conditions. If there were no progress, if we lived in that 
 state of perfect adaptation which is Mr. Spencer's ideal, men's lives 
 would elapse in idyllic harmony and with the mechanical rhythm of 
 a machine. It would be the state of a happy dream ; conscious- 
 ness would disappear as it has disappeared in those movements of 
 our body which we execute as pure reflex motions, without further 
 thought, because they are perfectly adapted to their ends. There- 
 fore "the good" or that which produces consciousness, is want, 
 disturbance, pain. 
 
 Accordingly the definition of good in the preface of Madame 
 Royer's book does not agree with the definition proposed in the 
 conclusion. 
 
 Professor Gizycki's work on ethics has the merit of being 
 very popular — a virtue which is rare in the books of German pro- 
 fessors, f He has to some extent abandoned the principle of utility 
 
 ♦See the editorial article on "Pleasure and Pain," The Open Court, No. 
 120, Vol. III., p. 1987. 
 
 t The chapters on Determinism and Indeterminism in Professor Gizycki's 
 Moraljihilosaphie appeared first in an English translation in The Open Court, 
 Nos. 25 and 26. Other passages, remarkable for their beauty and strength' 
 appeared shortly after the publication of the book in The Open Court under
 
 xii THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 and formulates the maxim of ethics in the sentence : " Strive for 
 peace of soul by devoting thyself to the welfare of humanity." 
 
 Professor Gizycki maintains that "feelings are the ultimate 
 basis of morals." He says "the moral feelings — reverence and 
 contempt, esteem and indignation, peace of soul and remorse — are 
 not activities of reason, but simply feelings." This is an error. So 
 long as we possess feelings only, we can have none of what Profes- 
 sor Gizycki calls "moral feelings." Every one of the so-called 
 "moral feelings, " for instance, esteem or indignation, is a judg- 
 ment ; and how can we pass a judgment of esteem or indignation 
 unless we compare and reason concerning certain feelings? It is 
 true that if man were not a sentient creature he could have no 
 ethics. But the properly ethical element in ethics does not consist 
 in feelings, but in the judgment concerning feelings. 
 
 Brutes possess feelings just as much as man, but man alone is 
 in possession of reason, and the regulation of his feelings by rea- 
 son makes him ethical. The conduct of brutes exhibits, with rare 
 exceptions, a lack of morality ; and in the measure that a creature 
 begins to judge, it becomes ethical. 
 
 Professor Harald Hoffding of Copenhagen, is perhaps the 
 most advanced of the Utilitarians. He goes so far in the state- 
 ment of his principle of ethical estimation as to object to the very 
 words "happiness or utility" {A^utzen oder Gliick, German trans- 
 lation of his " Data of Ethics," p. 37). In their stead he proposes 
 to put the term " welfare" ( IVohlfahrl) in order to embrace also 
 the higher wants of man's nature. Professor Hoffding defines wel- 
 fare (p. 98) "as a continuous state of pleasurable feeling" (IVoJil- 
 falirt ist eiti dauerndcr Ziistand des Lustgcfiihls). The present 
 edition contains an exposition of his views in his own words which, 
 in criticism of the author's positions, he kindly consented to 
 write as a contribution to The Moni'st (Vol. I., No. 4, pp. 520- 
 551). His statement is perhaps the best and most scientific formu- 
 lation of Hedonism, the ethics based upon man's pursuit of hap- 
 piness. 
 
 We may say that the pursuit of happiness js a natural right 
 of man, but we cannot derive the moral ought from the pursuit of 
 happiness. And the mere pursuit of happiness is not sufi&cient to 
 make a complete and worthy human life. On the contrary, the 
 
 the titles; "Death and Life " (No. 70) and "Nature and Eternal Youth ' 
 (No. 72).
 
 PREFACE. xiii 
 
 mere pursuit of happiness wherever it prevails unchecked in the 
 soul of man is a most dangerous tendency, which unfits man for 
 business as well as for family life, and above all for ideal aspira- 
 tions. What is the reason that trustworthy persons, competent 
 workers, dutiful men and women, are so rare ? It is simply be- 
 cause most people are too eager in their pursuit of happiness. 
 
 The pursuit of happiness is not wrong. Enjoyment is not a 
 sin and recreation is not improper. Yet it is wrong to make hap- 
 piness the sole aim of existence. We cannot live without enjoy- 
 ment ; enjoyment keeps our minds healthy and buoyant. Yet en- 
 joyment is not the purpose of life. Recreation is the rest we take 
 after our work is done. We do not work in order to have recrea- 
 tion ; but we seek recreation in order to do more work. 
 
 If the pursuit of happiness is not sufficient to make man's life 
 complete and worthy, what then is needed to make it so ? We all 
 know what is needed : it is ethics. Then let us have ethics — not 
 theories about procuring pleasurable sensations, but true ethics — 
 
 ethics that are nobler than the mere pursuit of happiness. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Criticisms are solicited from all who dissent from the views 
 set forth in the following lectures. I shall be glad to learn from 
 my critics, and wherever any one will convince me of an error he 
 will find me ready to change my opinion and to accept the truth 
 whatever it be. p c.
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction xvii 
 
 Three Lectures by Dr. Paul Carus. 
 
 Ethics, A Science 3 
 
 The Data of Ethics 25 
 
 The Theories of Ethics 51 
 
 Discussions. 
 
 Dr. Carus on "The Ethical Problem." By William M. Salter, 
 
 Lecturer of the Chicago Ethical Society 86 
 
 Mr. Salter on "The Ethical Problem." Reply by Dr. Paul 
 
 Carus 97 
 
 Science and Ethics. Reply by Dr. Paul Carus (Continued) . 125 
 
 The Authority of the Moral Law. Reply by Dr. Paul Carus 
 
 (Continued) 131 
 
 Concluding Remarks of the Discussion with Dr. Paul Carus. 
 
 By William M. Salter 138 
 
 The Ought and the Must. A Criticism. By John Maddock, 
 
 Esq., Minneapolis, Minn 149 
 
 The Ought and the Must. Reply by Dr. Paul Carus . . . 152 
 
 Leading Principles in Ethics. Remarks. By Dr. F. M. Hol- 
 land, Concord, Mass 157 
 
 A Test of Conduct. Remarks. By Dr. F. M. Holland (Con- 
 tinued) 162 
 
 A Criticism. By Dr. Friedrich Jodl, Professor in the Univer- 
 sity of Vienna 168 
 
 In Answer to Professor Jodl. By Dr. Paul Carus .... 170 
 
 Religion and Science — Their Incongruity. A Criticism. By 
 
 Dr. Robert Lewins, V. C. ; late of the British Army . . 179
 
 xvi THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Science and Religion. In Answer to Dr. Levvins's Criticism. 
 
 By Dr. Paul Carus 184 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith on Morality and Religion. A Criticism. 
 
 By Dr. Paul Carus 186 
 
 The Principle of Welfare. An Essay. By Dr. Harald Hoff- 
 
 ding, Professor in the University of Copenhagen . . . 199 
 The Criterion of Ethics an Objective Reality. An Essay. By 
 
 Dr. Paul Carus 234 
 
 First Principles in Ethics. An Essay. By William M, Salter 264 
 The "Is" and the "Ought." Remarks. By Dr. Paul Carus 279 
 An Analysis of the Moral Ought. Comments upon Prof. H. 
 
 Sidgwick's View. By Dr. Paul Carus 285 
 
 Nature and Morality. An Examination of the Ethical Views 
 
 of John Stuart Mill. By Dr. Paul Carus 296 
 
 An American Moralist. By Dr. L. M. Billia, Professor in 
 
 the University of Turin 317 
 
 Rosmini's Philosophy. By Dr. Paul Carus 325 
 
 Faith and Reason. A Review of Fechner's Method of Recon- 
 ciling Religion with Science. By Dr. Paul Carus . . 334
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In endeavoring to establish ethics as a science, 
 the author's aim has been on the one hand to point 
 out the intimate and inalienable connexion of moral- 
 ity with religion ; and on the other hand to show that 
 ethics can by no means be derived from mere sen- 
 timent. Both the intuitionist and the hedonist are 
 wrong, the former in seeking the ultimate foundation 
 of ethics in the sentiment of moral impulses called 
 conscience and the latter in determining moral worth 
 by a consideration of pleasure and pain. 
 
 In order to find the objective element that consti- 
 tutes the nature of morality, we must discover the 
 objective element of man's soul. Man's soul is not 
 merely subjectivity. The fact that he feels is an in- 
 dispensable condition of his existence as a living and 
 thinking being, but it is not the essential feature of his 
 humanity. He does not consist of feelings pure and 
 simple, but of feelings of a definite kind and nature. 
 The most important part of man's existence is his 
 character, and character is quality ; a man's character 
 is not the feeling element of his feelings, but is deter- 
 mined by the forms of his feelings, by his thoughts, 
 and his intentions. And forms are, if our philosophy 
 be right,* not mere subjective semblances (as Kant 
 would have it), but objective realities. 
 
 *See the author's Primer of Philosophy and Fundamental Problems.
 
 xviii THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 The problem of ethics presupposes the solution of 
 the psychological question as to the nature of the 
 soul, which has been treated elsewhere, and can here 
 only briefly be dealt with. 
 
 In reply to [the question, What am I myself? we 
 say, the self of every man is his character. I am not 
 my body, but that which determines the actions of the 
 body. I am the longings, the impulses, the ideals 
 which inspire me, and, above all, the actions which I 
 do. In brief, the soul consists of thoughts and voli- 
 tions. Accordingly, I am a certain form of life, — a 
 form formed and forming. I am formed by formative 
 factors that existed before I was combined into this 
 peculiar idiosyncrasy, and I in my turn am forming 
 the idiosyncrasies of future generations v/ith whom I 
 come directly or indirectly into contact. In this sense, 
 I (that is, the forms of life which make up my per- 
 sonality) existed to a great extent before I was born, 
 and shall exist in the reproductions of my most per- 
 sonal features after the dissolution of my body. The 
 indestructibility of every event that ever happened is 
 especially true of the form of life, the soul, which at 
 every moment of its existence is simply the summed 
 up result of its entire previous history, beginning with 
 the first appearance of life on earth. And as the past 
 is immortalised in us so we shall be immortalised in 
 the future ; and this immortality of the soul is a fact 
 in spite of the transiency of every successive moment 
 of our life as well as the final dissolution of the body. 
 
 Morality is a formation of character; it is the ac- 
 quisition and preservation of those forms of life 
 which, in our best judgment, must be deemed worthy 
 of existence. We have been built up by the soul-life 
 of the past, and we are building up the soul-life of the
 
 INTRODUCTION. xix 
 
 future. Our self extends into both directions, into the 
 ages that have been and into the ages to come. The 
 present temporary incarnation of this soul-life is tran- 
 sient, while its forming factors are enduring. 
 
 Self is a word of doubtful significance ; if Ave un- 
 derstand by self our body in its material concreteness, 
 life teaches us the transiency of self, and ethics would 
 practically consist in the eradication of all selfish- 
 ness. We must cease clinging to the self of this tran- 
 sient incarnation of our form of life, which is most 
 easily done by overcoming the delusion that this 
 bodily self is neither a reality of permanence nor does 
 it possess any absolute dignity. If, however, we un- 
 derstand by self the form of our soul-life, our charac- 
 ter, the ideals that inspire us, and the aims which we 
 pursue, ethics would be simply the science of self-cul- 
 ture and self-preservation. In this sense morality is 
 the highest, the best, and most consistent selfishness. 
 
 Taking this attitude, the contrast between ego- 
 tism and altruism breaks down : ethics is as little 
 egotistic as it is altruistic. Ethics is antagonistic to 
 self in its narrov/ and bodily sense, but if we under- 
 stand by self that which constitutes the character of 
 our life, viz., the form of our being, the essential fea- 
 ture of that which constitutes our personality, ethics 
 is simply the enhancement of our self. It will in the 
 long run, and if methodically considered, teach us the 
 selfishness that does not cling to the heap of atoms 
 called body, but to its more important formal and 
 formative features, our ideals, which will continue to 
 exist after the breakdown of our material existence. 
 
 If by individual we mean the concrete and mate- 
 rial embodiment of our soul, and by personality the 
 characteristic features of our aspirations, the form of
 
 XX THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 our life, our spiritual being : we would say that ethics 
 as a science finding an objective foundation in the 
 realities of life must transcend the realm of the indi- 
 vidual, and establish solidly and forever our personal- 
 ity. Our personality and our conception of personality 
 must be lifted into the domain of the super-individual ; 
 we must learn to regard the fleeting as fleeting, and 
 appreciate the value of permanence. The individual 
 is not only subject to a constant change, but it is 
 finally doomed to die. The individual should there- 
 fore be the instrument of personality; it is the occa- 
 sion through which our personality can make its 
 influence felt in the development of the entire life of 
 mankind ; and ethics is simply a method of improv- 
 ing this opportunity. 
 
 Ethics is not altruism, although it sometimes 
 prompts us to altruistic deeds, because the enhance- 
 ment of our self-interest in the higher sense of the 
 word naturally leads to the enhancement of our own 
 self as incorporated in our fellow-beings. Helping 
 others is not moral on the principal that they are oth- 
 ers, but rather because they are or may become like 
 unto us : they represent our own life-form which is in 
 need of assistance. Hence charity extended to peo- 
 ple who are unworthy is no virtue; and goodnatured- 
 ness without circumspection is either weakness, or 
 negligence, or foolishness, but never meritorious. 
 
 The idea is very prevalent that ethics is goody- 
 goodyism, that it is anti-selfishness, that it is a sup- 
 pression of our own personality in favor of other per- 
 sonalities. If a man from sheer good nature yields to 
 the unreasonable demands of another, or if he con- 
 fides in him without a sufiticient guarantee, he may 
 be unselfish, but he is therefore not moral. Many
 
 IN TK OD UC TION. xxi 
 
 people who lack the strength of saying "no" at the 
 right time, when the results of their false altru- 
 ism become apparent, console themselves with the 
 thought that they were too good ; but they are mis- 
 taken ; their conduct is not moral, but weak, and 
 weakness is immoral. The acquisition of strength 
 which may often appear as sternness is one of the 
 most urgent duties of life, and goodnaturedness as a 
 rule is merely a euphemism for a lack of character, 
 implying a deficiency in the power of resistance. 
 
 An example of these wrong ethics is the sheep, for 
 the sheep in its meekness and weakness is supposed 
 to be moral, while its enemy the wolf is represented 
 as the incarnation of immorality. We would say that 
 neither the sheep nor the wolf is moral ; but if the 
 simile is understood as a parable, we might just as 
 well take the wolf as the representative of morality; 
 for while the sheep sets an example of cowardice and 
 indifference, the wolf at least exhibits courage ; he 
 stands up for his own self, and fights the struggle of 
 life energetically and boldly. 
 
 Courage is not a vice, but one of the cardinal vir- 
 tues, although its significance as a virtue has been 
 underrated in the centuries during which through a 
 literal acceptation of the lamb as the symbol of inno- 
 cence an ovine morality was preached and the theory 
 of an absolute non-resistance to evil had become the 
 highest moral ideal. 
 
 There is a certain sense in the religious injunction, 
 "Resist not evil," but as it is commonly formulated 
 the statement is wrong, and ought to read, "Resist 
 not evil with evil." The principle of retaliation is 
 wrong, but the principle of fighting error, vice, and
 
 XXll 
 
 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 falsity, is not only not immoral, but it is the main 
 duty of morality. 
 
 Evil is exactly the thing to be resisted, only we 
 should not overcome evil homeopathically by increas- 
 ing the evils of the world. Lao-Tze expresses the 
 right sentiment in the Tao- Teh-King when he says : 
 
 " Requite hatred with goodness." — Chap. 63. 
 
 "The good I meet with goodness ; the bad I also meet with 
 goodness; for virtue is good (throughout). The faithful I meet 
 with faith ; the faithless I also meet with faith ; for virtue is faith- 
 ful (throughout)." — Chap. 49. 
 
 The old Buddhist Scriptures say of a saintly man: 
 
 " Anger He conquers by calmness, 
 And by goodness the wicked ; 
 The stijgy he conquers by generosity, 
 And by truth the speaker of lies." 
 
 A prevalent error is the idea set forth by many 
 men of great prominence that ethics has nothing to 
 do with religion. For instance, Professor Petrie says :* 
 
 ' ' That the idea of personal morality is not an integral part of 
 most religions, is obvious to any one who has had a practical view 
 of them. Right and wrong do not enter into the circle of religious 
 ideas to most races. The piety of the Carthaginian before Moloch, 
 of the Roman as he sent his captives from the capitol to be slaugh- 
 tered in the Colosseum, of Louis XI. as he confided his duplicities 
 to the Virgins in his hat-band, or of Louis XV. as he prayed in the 
 Far c -mix- C erf s, show what the brigand who pays for his masses, 
 or the Arab who swindles in the intervals of his prayers, prove in 
 the present day — that the firmest religious beliefs have no neces- 
 sary connection with the idea of moral action." 
 
 The error of this view consists in the fact that our 
 own views of morality are imputed to people of either 
 a different religion or a different religious conception. 
 The savage who worships his deity by slaughtering 
 
 *RdigioK and Conscieiicc in Anc/i'Jii Egypt, pp. 14-15.
 
 INTRODUCriON. xxiii 
 
 the captives is subjectively (viz., before the tribunal 
 of his conscience) as moral as the Christian general 
 who would be intent on saving their lives. Saul was 
 rejected by Samuel simply because he did not slaugh- 
 ter all the captives, and did not destroy the property 
 of a conquered race, and he was deemed irreligious ; 
 his act was considered by Samuel as decidedly im- 
 moral. The immoral actions of savages are the best 
 evidence of the close connection between religion and 
 morality. A savage religion produces savage views 
 of morality. The Carthaginians who sacrificed to Mo- 
 loch, and I might say, by way of parenthesis, the 
 Israelite king, Manasseh, too, who made his sons and 
 daughters pass through the fires of Baal, were sub- 
 jectively considered moral ; they did not perform 
 these acts on account of a perversity of their moral 
 fiber, but on account of a perversity of their religion. 
 They believed in a savage religion. Undoubtedly, 
 they performed these horrible rites with fear and trem- 
 bling, and against their better instincts, simply be- 
 cause they deemed them right, and the proper thing to 
 do. They thought that God, or the gods, demanded 
 such sacrifices. Their religion is at fault, not their 
 morality. 
 
 The same Is true of the ethics of the promotors of 
 the Inquisition, and of the popes who introduced and 
 sanctioned this inhuman system of making propa- 
 ganda for the religion of love. Torquemada, the 
 Grand Inquisitor of Spain, is reported even by his 
 enemies to have been a pure-minded man, of best in- 
 tentions, and he was at the same time so tender- 
 hearted that he left the room as soon as the suspected 
 heretic was put on the rack. Subjectively considered, 
 he certainly was moral, and acted under the impulse
 
 xxiv THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of high motives against the better instincts of his hu- 
 manity. His fault is not one of wickedness, but of 
 belief ; and his errors are not due to the viciousness 
 of his heart, but to the errors of his religion. 
 
 We insist, therefore, on the truth that religion is 
 closely connected with morality. And how could it 
 be otherwise? For religion is the conviction we have 
 of the truth, — the conviction which comprises our 
 conception of the universe, and becomes as such the 
 determining factor of all our actions. 
 
 Religion need not be a belief, but it is always a 
 faith. Belief is opinion ; it is a taking for granted, 
 without having evidence ; but faith is a synonym for 
 conviction. Faith is the determination to be true to 
 one's ideal. It is true that many deem belief to be an 
 essential element of religion, but this is only an emer- 
 gency for those who are lacking in comprehension. 
 The belief that justice extended to enemies is the 
 proper thing to do, does not become less religious 
 when through a deeper insight into the interrelations 
 of human life it is changed into positive knowledge. 
 We would here call attention to the fact that the 
 Hebrew word for belief, "^'"^N. (amuna), means firm- 
 ness, or character (connected with the word ^^X 
 (amen), which means "it is established"); and the 
 Greek word for belief, Trt'o-Tis, means fidelity, and 
 ought to be translated by the English word "faith," 
 and not "belief." 
 
 It goes without saying that religion originates with 
 mere opinion, but it progresses more and more to a 
 clear comprehension. First we know in part and we 
 prophesy in part ; but when that which is perfect is 
 come, then that which is part shall be done away.
 
 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 
 
 The ethical problem is the burning question of to- 
 day. It is a fact that the majority of civilized people 
 demand obedience to certain ethical rules of conduct. 
 To some extent they enforce them by law, yet it is 
 generally agreed upon that the statutes would not be 
 sufficient to ensure the observance of those rules un- 
 less the members of society possessed the spirit of 
 which those laws are merely an expression; and the 
 laws of a country can only prescribe in roughest out- 
 lines the most general demands of the community. 
 The laws rest upon the ethical spirit that animates a 
 nation. The motive to do right must be a living power 
 in every citizen, and if we speak of the ethical problem 
 we demand an answer to the question, How can we 
 plant that motive in the souls of men? 
 
 The ethical problem accordingly is a practical 
 problem. It is no mere speculation for theorizers. It 
 is the living question of to-da3' which is at the bottom 
 of all questions, and we may justly say that it has been 
 the burning question of all the ages past, and will re- 
 main the chief interest of human life in all the cen- 
 turies to come.
 
 4 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Yet because the ethical problem is practical, we 
 cannot dispense with theoretical enquiries. Theories 
 and their practical applications are inseparable. Theo- 
 rizing without practical use is a Vanity Fair of mental 
 exertions. Theories, if they are correct theories, if 
 they are properly derived from, and if they agree with, 
 facts, are the most practical inventions made. The 
 savage may build his hut without a knowledge of 
 mathematics, but the study of mathematics is no mere 
 and useless theorizing for the architect who builds a 
 dome or who bridges an arm of the sea. A correct theory 
 makes a man more efficient in his work ; and indeed 
 right theories are the indispensable conditions of all 
 progress in practical life. 
 
 It will be impossible to implant in the souls of men 
 the motive of doing right without telling them what 
 is meant by "right." We cannot inculcate ethics with- 
 out laying down a principle or standard by which a 
 man may decide for himself what is right and what is 
 wrong. If we demand that he refrain from doing wrong 
 and be guided by what is right, we are bound to give 
 him a reason why. If right-doing were always ad- 
 vantageous to him, he might, as a matter of course, obey 
 the moral behest and we should need no ethics. But 
 if it sometimes conflicts with his personal interest, we 
 must give him a reason that will be stronger than his 
 egotism, we must implant the ethical motive in his 
 soul. How can we do that without enquiring into the 
 principles of ethics, the factors of moral life, without
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 
 
 understanding the origin and evolution of ethics, with- 
 out digging down to the roots from which the ethical 
 spirit grows? 
 
 I. 
 
 The ethical problem is as old as the human race. 
 Humanity has always been in search of certain rules 
 to regulate the conduct of society. These rules must 
 have had a very slow growth at first ; they developed 
 unconsciously in the era when man was still an animal 
 living in herds. Civilized society evolved from sav- 
 age life in the degree that certain rules of conduct 
 were more and more clearly recognized. It is natural 
 that those tribes prospered best in whom the ethical 
 spirit was comparatively well developed, and in the 
 process of natural selection the growing nations of 
 the world were sifted with ruthless cruelty " like as 
 corn is sifted in a sieve." Thus humanity was edu- 
 cated in the hard school of experience, to find out the 
 basic principles from which to derive the rules of con- 
 duct. 
 
 The ethics of a people at a given time, being the 
 result of their experience, is naturally the practical 
 apphcation of their conception of the world. There 
 is no action, i. e., purposive motion, without knowl- 
 edge. Knowledge transforms motion into action. Ac- 
 tion depends upon knowledge, and the sole purpose of 
 knowledge is its application to action. Knowledge 
 and ethics are correlatives, they are brothers, yet
 
 6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 knowledge is the elder, he is always a little in 
 advance of his younger brother, ethics. The evolu- 
 tion of knowledge will necessarily promote the evolu- 
 tion of ethics. 
 
 Ethics, in the widest sense of the term, means 
 regulation of action. And in this sense every knowl- 
 edge must have its ethical application. If the sav- 
 age knows that friction produces fire, this knowledge 
 finds its practical application in the ethical rule : In 
 case you want fire, produce it by friction. There is 
 no scientific discovery, be it ever so small or ever so 
 great, that cannot be formulated in the shape of an 
 ethical injunction. For instance, in order to build a 
 house, observe the laws of gravitation. Sometimes a 
 very crude knowledge suffices to perform a certain 
 work ; sometimes man, unconsciously, without a clear 
 knowledge of what he is doing, succeeds in doing 
 something that is right, but it cannot be doubted that 
 the more knowledge he has, and the clearer he under- 
 stands the science of a thing, the better will he perform 
 a special work, and the more properly will he be en- 
 abled to attend to it. 
 
 All science has its ethical application — ethical in 
 the widest sense of the term. And we ma)', in this 
 way, consider all practical instruction, and the appli- 
 cation of all human activity as ethical. Yet there is 
 a special usage of the term ethics, the science of 
 which is more difficult to understand, and this special 
 ethics is meant if we speak of ethics in general.
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 7 
 
 Ethics, in the more definite sense, represents those 
 duties which must be performed in the interest of so- 
 ciety. Very often these can be performed only by a 
 certain self-sacrifice ; and yet they must be done. 
 They have to be performed not only under the com- 
 pulsion of law from the motive of fear, but of free 
 will from the motive of love. Penal laws can serve 
 for extremities only ; they are mere safety-valves for 
 protecting society in desperate cases. They are not 
 the factors that make the community grow. The 
 members of a society must be willing to sacrifice some 
 of their individual interests, and if they are not ani- 
 mated with this spirit, our legislative apparatus can be 
 of no avail. 
 
 The ethical stimulus has been implanted into man 
 by religion. All the religions of the world are justly con- 
 sidered ethical movements. Confucius inaugurated 
 an ethical movement, the decalogue of Mount Sinai is 
 an ethical movement, Buddha is the founder of an 
 ethical movement, and Christ's Sermon on the Mount 
 is intended to replace a slavish obedience to the letter 
 of the law by the ethical spirit of religious aspiration. 
 
 What is religion? Religion is a conception of the 
 world applied to practical life. It is a theory of the 
 universe in its ethical importance. It is a philosophy 
 employed as a regulative principle for action. 
 
 If there is a difference between philosophy and re- 
 ligion it is this : The word philosophy is mostly em- 
 ployed when we speak of the world-conception of single
 
 8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 thinkers; the word Religion signifies a philosophy en- 
 dorsed by a whole society. In addition to this dis- 
 tinction we notice that religion always includes the 
 ethical application of a conception of the world, while a 
 philosophy may imply, but need not necessarily contain 
 its ethical corollaries. In a philosophy the theoretical 
 part, in a religion the practical application, is predom- 
 inant, yet there is no difference in principle \ every 
 philosophy is a religion and every religion a philosophy. 
 
 The history of all the sciences begins with the be- 
 lief in magic. The inventor who has made himself 
 useful in this or that way has accomplished something 
 extraordinary, something wonderful, something im- 
 possible ; it appears impossible to the natural abilities 
 of man. Accordingly, it is argued, he can have done it 
 only by the aid of supernatural forces. And the man 
 who made the invention is under the same impression. 
 He did not make his own ideas, but the ideas grew in 
 him as the flowers grow in spring. They came to him 
 like a revelation from above. He felt himself inspired. 
 
 And there is a great truth in this conception of in- 
 spiration — a truth which is at present little heeded. 
 All growth comes to us like a gift from on high. It 
 is true that we have created by our own efforts the 
 higher life of a civilized humanity ; yet on the other 
 hand, it is true also that all our efforts would have 
 been in vain, did nature not contain the conditions 
 for evolving that higher life. Man is a conscious being 
 and he can learn to understand his wants, he can rep-
 
 Ernies A SCIENCE. 9 
 
 resent in his consciousness the growth o{ his body 
 as well as his mind and the conditions that favor this 
 growth. He can also scan the future so as to provide 
 for emergencies and to protect himself against dan- 
 gers. Thus consciousness becomes a factor having 
 great influence upon man's life for properly directing 
 his future evolution and for preserving the health of 
 his life. Yet it was not his consciousness that made 
 man grow. Humanity is of a natural growth not other- 
 wise than is the unconscious growth of plants. 
 
 There is no science and no application of science 
 which at first was not considered as magical. How 
 could it be otherwise with the science that forms the 
 basis of ethics? Almost all the old religions are still 
 in the state of infancy ; they represent the phase of 
 astrology before it developed into astronomy, the 
 phase of alchemy before it developed into chemistry. 
 Yet like the sciences, religion also will develop into 
 a state of scientific maturity. 
 
 Religion was supposed to have come to man by 
 inspiration. And it did come to him by inspiration in 
 a certain sense, as an idea comes to a poet, as a dis- 
 covery comes to a scientist. The inspiration of re- 
 ligious prophets was not different from that of scien- 
 tists, poets, or social reformers. Yet it was considered 
 different, and up to this time the magical phase of re- 
 ligious views has with the majority of mankind not yet 
 developed into that scientific state reached by the 
 other branches of human experience. This step how-
 
 mo the ethical problem. 
 
 ever must be made, and the signs of the time indicate 
 that it will be made in the near future of humanity. 
 Indeed the ethical problem at present is " othing but 
 our desire to make this step. 
 
 The vanguard of those thinkers who are the leaders 
 of human progress feel the necessity to place religion 
 upon a scientific basis. The religion of magic, of su- 
 pernaturalism, of superstition, must develop into a re- 
 ligion of science, it must become the scientific basis of 
 ethics. Religion will remain a conception of the world 
 that serves as a regulative principle for action. Yet 
 this conception will cease to be the product of an in- 
 stinctive imagination, it will become a scientific sys- 
 tem of certain truths that have to be examined and 
 proved by the usual methods of scientific enquiry. 
 
 The religion of science will have no dogmas, the 
 truth of which is asserted on grounds of assumed 
 authority ; yet it will have truths, the authority of 
 which depends upon on their capability of proof. 
 The religion of science accordingly is not a religion 
 of sentimental toleration which endures any and every 
 opinion with equal indifference. The religion of science 
 will be the most exclusive and orthodox religion 
 that ever existed — orthodox in the proper sense of 
 the word : having the right conviction, or being in 
 possession of provable truth. And if the term is not 
 misunderstood, we may add, that the religion of 
 science will also be the most intolerant religion, for it 
 will destroy all the views that are incompatible with it.
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. ii 
 
 It will no longer suffer them to exist. However it will 
 not destroy antagonistic views by putting opponents to 
 death or persecuting them, but by convincing them of 
 their errors. 
 
 II. 
 
 The ethical problem of to-day can be formulated 
 in the question : *'Is ethics a science ; or if it is not 
 at present, can ethics be founded upon a scientific 
 basis?" This question is substantially the same as 
 the effort to conciliate Religion with Science, or to 
 evolve Religion from its state of infancy into its state 
 of manhood ; from dualism, into monism, from the 
 mysticism of vague supernaturalistic speculations to 
 the clearness of positive certainty, from authoritative 
 belief and credulity into that of knowledge. 
 
 We want new ethics but no new morality. The 
 morality of the old religions is not wrong. Their in- 
 junctions upon the whole are right. The command- 
 ments : ''Honor thy father and mother," "thou 
 shalt not steal," "thou shalt not kill," "thou 
 shalt not bear false witness," are to-day as valid as 
 they ever were. They have rather gained in mean- 
 ing, for the consciences are more sensitive to resent 
 any injury done to a neighbor since Christ taught us 
 to consider even sinful desire to be culpable as though 
 the sin itself were committed. It is not the morality 
 of the old religions we object to, but it is the argu- 
 ment upon which the old religious morality is based.
 
 12 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 You may say it matters not why a man leads a 
 moral life, so that his life be moral. And to some 
 extent it is of little consequence indeed, namely, in 
 so far as morality has become a habit of his character 
 which he could not change even though the motive 
 that impelled him to do right should disappear. 
 However it is by no means indifferent if we consider the 
 necessity of educating the growing generation whose 
 characters are plastic like clay in a potter's hand. Man 
 wants motives for his actions, and above all he wants 
 motives for those actions that appear to run counter to 
 his personal interests. Man wants strong motives for 
 those actions which he would not perform, if his 
 egotism had the sole decision. And man has a right 
 to dem.and motives for he is a thinking being and it 
 is his prerogative to be guided by reason. 
 
 The old reasons of religious ethics have become 
 untenable, and it is therefore, solely therefore, that 
 the ethical problem has become a burning question. 
 If the belief in a supernatural and personal God, as 
 taught by the churches v/ere as strong to-day, as it 
 was centuries ago, if the authority of church doctrines 
 were as firm and undisputed as it was formerly, we 
 would have no ethical problem. There would be no 
 meaning in the very phrase "the ethical problem." It 
 is this need to supply a new and tenable basis for 
 ethics which lies back of all ethical aspirations to-day. 
 
 There is no ethical problem to the dogmatic be- 
 liever, for he imagines that God in person has spoken
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 13 
 
 through the mouths of his prophets and his only be- 
 loved son, and whosoever believes and obeys God's 
 commands will, after death, receive the crown of life. 
 And yet such is the imperative demand of progress that 
 even to the thoughtful dogmatist the ethical problem 
 is brought home. He may conceive the increase of 
 unbelief among the thinkers of mankind as a sign of 
 depravity in the human race ; nevertheless this state 
 of things demands his attention likewise. If he has an 
 interest in the welfare of society, he must see the need 
 of teaching ethics to unbelievers. The dogmatist is 
 an ethical teacher, an ethical missionary also. He 
 knows that a teacher must go down to the level of his 
 disciples, and from their stand-point raise them to his 
 own. Every missionary must speak in the language 
 of those whom he wishes to convert. Thus even a 
 dogmatist, from his stand-point, can appreciate that 
 an appeal to the accounts of revelation would be use- 
 less with regard to those v/ho have ceased to believe 
 them. He himself will be obliged to appeal more to 
 natural and demonstrable arguments than to his creed, 
 and thus it will happen that the churches themselves, 
 even though they retain their denominational names, 
 will, under the pressure of facts, by the gentle in- 
 fluence of the times, change into societies for ethical 
 culture. 
 
 There is one point you ought to understand well. 
 The ethical movement will work for the progress of 
 mankind whatever you do ; for it will, under all cir-
 
 14. THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 cumstances, help to ethicalize our churches. But if you 
 intend to give permanence to your work in the ethical 
 movement, if you wish that the Societies for Ethical 
 Culture shall continue, you must not rest satisfied with 
 negations, you must do the positive work of affirmation. 
 It is not sufficient to drop the antiquated creeds of 
 supernaturalism, which furnished in former centuries 
 the motives for moral action, you must replace them 
 by new motives that can stand scientific criticism. It 
 is not sufficient to propound the ethical problem and 
 to push it to the front of human interests, so as to call 
 to it all the attention that it deserves ; you must also 
 solve it. 
 
 The work done by the leaders of the ethical 
 movement is undoubtedly a great achievement, and 
 the mere selection of the name is most appropriate. 
 The mere formulation of a problem, said David Hume, 
 is almost half of its solution. You have elicited sym- 
 pathies all over the world among the learned profes- 
 sors of ethics as much as among the liberal clergy 
 who are willing to follow the spirit of scientific prog- 
 ress. Will you now leave the task undone ? Will 
 you shrink from completing the work lest you commit 
 yourselves to a real solution of the ethical problem ? 
 I hope, and indeed I believe, that you will not. 
 Does noc Christ's word apply to you as well as it did 
 of yore to the multitude that listened to his words in 
 Galilee : " Ye are the salt of the earth, but if the salt 
 have lost its savor wherewith shall it be salted. It is
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 15 
 
 thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out and to 
 be trodden under foot of men. " If you leave the work 
 undone, if you positively refuse to do it, it is certain that 
 your societies will pass away, for, in that case, they 
 would have no reason to exist, they would be mean- 
 ingless, like the salt that has lost its savor. 
 
 Your failure to solve the ethical problem would be 
 a serious loss to the cause of progress ; yet if the 
 ethical societies would pass out of existence, the ethi- 
 cal movement would remain. Though you misunder- 
 stood your own ideals, your ideals would live in spite 
 of you. They will take root in the hearts of others 
 who possess the strength and the courage to realize 
 them. 
 
 After all, it is not impossible that the churches 
 may be roused, for there is still much power for good 
 in them. The churches have not lost the capability 
 of regeneration ; the demands of the time press them 
 very hard ; they feel no less than you the urgency of the 
 ethical problem, and why should not a spirit of reform 
 seize them as happened in the era of Luther ? The lead- 
 ers of the churches will become aware of the fact that 
 they are losing contact with their times. If they continue 
 in the old rut, their numbers will diminish and their 
 influence decrease. But, in that case, is it not most 
 probable that in the last moment of necessity the clergy 
 will understand the dilemma : Either the churches 
 have to adapt themselves to the needs of the time, or 
 they will cease to exist ? If they understand this.
 
 i6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 an ethical revival will undoubtedly animate church life 
 and with all the advantages of their organization, with 
 their historical inheritance and traditions, they will 
 evolve into that higher phase of religion which is free 
 from the superstition of magic. They will purify their 
 faith so as to shake off the illusions of supernaturalism, 
 and unequivocally take their stand on the solid ground 
 of scientific truth. 
 
 There can be no doubt, if there is any truth in the 
 lav/ of evolution, that the ethical movement will be 
 victorious in the end. Its enemies cannot suppress 
 it, neither can its friends nor its founders. It must 
 have its way. We can hinder its growth, we can re- 
 tard its progress by miscomprehending it, but we can- 
 not undo it. Yet we can also promote its progress, 
 we can enhance its growth, we can mature its harvest : 
 and in doing so we shall work for the cause of hu- 
 manity. 
 
 III. 
 
 The question now arises : How can we have a 
 scientific basis of ethics ? How is the transition from 
 the old state to the nev/ to be effected ? And which 
 philosophy shall give us the theoretical assistance of 
 method for our operation ? 
 
 Which philosophy ? There are so many ! And 
 one philosopher contradicts the other. There is 
 materialism and spiritualism, realism and idealism, 
 monism and agnosticism. Which shall we select
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 17 
 
 as a basis for ethics ? I believe the bewildering 
 number of so many different systems hindered the 
 leaders of the societies for ethical culture from en- 
 dorsing any one of them. We have so many little 
 systems of world-theories as to what the essence of 
 the world might be like, that an outsider can only re- 
 serve his judgment. I can only approve of Professor 
 Adler's proposition that an ethical movement must 
 not commit itself to any one of these thought-con- 
 structions of theorizing philosophers. 
 
 Yet if there is no philosophy of permanent value, 
 the ethical movement must contribute as much as 
 possible to create a philosophy that will be sufficient 
 for our needs. And at present it is not so much a 
 philosophical system that is needed, as clearness about 
 the principle by which to guagethe depth and the im- 
 portance of world-conceptions. 
 
 Schiller said in one of his xenions : 
 
 " Which will survive of the many philosophies ?— Surely I know notl 
 Yet Philosophy will, truly, forever remain." 
 
 There was a time when we had several astronomies. 
 Which of them survived ? Only one, that of Coper- 
 nicus. We name it after the man who first discovered 
 it ; yet we might have named it the astronomy of facts. 
 All the ingenious theories and fantastic speculations 
 had to be abandoned, when this most simple theory 
 was propounded, which rightly considered Vv^as in need 
 of no hypothesis and although it did credit to the im- 
 aginative power of its inventor, it was merely a con-
 
 1 8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 sistent and simple explanation of facts. So it will be 
 with all the philosophies. All the thought-construc- 
 tions of absolute being must go, and only the philoso- 
 phy of facts will remain. And the new ethics in order 
 to become a science must be established on facts. 
 
 Here is the line of demarcation between the new 
 ethics and the old. The old ethics is based upon 
 revelation, upon absolute ideas, upon anything, but 
 not upon facts. The new ethics is based upon facts 
 and is applied to facts. 
 
 There are perhaps many among you who would say : 
 * ' Facts are a poor capital to start with. What are facts ? 
 Are they not the realities of life, the sensory impres- 
 sions we have, the happenings and events of history 
 and of our individual experience, the natural processes 
 that take place around us ?" Certainly all these things 
 are facts, and facts are the realities of life. 
 
 Laplace searched the skies and he could not find 
 God. In the same way, you may search the facts of 
 reality and you will not find ethics. Ethics is not 
 ready made; it is not the one or the other fact among 
 all the realities of the universe. Ethics is our attitude 
 toward the facts of reality. 
 
 The objection that can be made to the proposition 
 of basing ethics upon facts can be stated as follows : 
 "The realities of life are often very sad; and they are 
 especially insufficient in the properly moral element. 
 Ethics therefore wants something greater and grander 
 than facts. Science may explain the things that are ;
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 19 
 
 science may oe satisfied with facts, but ethics deals 
 with things that ought to be ; ethics is not satisfied 
 with facts but it brings us ideals. The basis of ethics 
 and of ethical ideals must be sought in something su- 
 perior to facts, in something absolute." 
 
 It is true that ethics is not satisfied with the present 
 state of things ; ethics attempts to improve the state 
 of facts as they are. Ethics deals with ideals. Yet 
 these ideals whence do they come? Are they really 
 derived from the absolute? Do ideals come to us from 
 fairy land ? Are they really of a mysterious and a su- 
 perterrestrial origin ? If so, supernaturalism would 
 be right after all ! 
 
 What are ideals ? Ideals have a very humble 
 origin ; they are not of celestial or transcendental 
 parentage. Ideals are the children of our needs. If 
 an inventor is engaged in inventing a machine for 
 filling some need in human life, he has an ideal, for 
 an ideal is an idea to be realized. 
 
 Ideals do not come down to us from the skies, nor 
 are they mere dreams, mere poetical visions of our 
 prophets. Not at all ! Man wants something, so he 
 conceives the idea how good it would be if he had it. 
 If a man is a mere dreamer, he is pleased with his 
 imagination, and complains about the hard facts of 
 reality. However, if he is a thinker, that is, a dreamer 
 who, in addition to his imaginative faculty, possesses 
 self-discipline, will, and the ability to prune his imagina- 
 tion, and to criticize his dreams, he will study facts.
 
 20 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 And only by studying facts will he be enabled to 
 realize his ideal. Those apparent ideals which, for 
 some reason, are not adaptable to facts are no ideals, 
 but dreams. 
 
 The ethical ideal rises as all other ideals, from the 
 wants of man. Humanity is in need of a better state 
 of things, of more benevolence in our mutual inter- 
 course, of more justice in our dealings, more enthu- 
 siasm for the common good. This produces concep- 
 tions of a higher conduct than humanity at present 
 possesses, of better laws and institutions, and we are 
 constantly investigating the different plans to decide 
 whether or not they v/ould be an improvement if real- 
 ized. If ethical ideals do not agree with the laws 
 that science, after a careful examination, has derived 
 from facts, they are mere dreams, and are just as 
 worthless, perhaps also just as misleading, as is the 
 mirage of a fata morgana in the desert, or an ignis 
 fatuus in a marshy region. 
 
 The rehgions of supernaturalism teach that the 
 source of all goodness and morality is a great personal 
 being residing beyond the skies ; and he, by means of 
 magic, implants into man's bosom the ethical ideal. 
 No wonder that Laplace could not find God ! A medi- 
 cine-man, who works miracles, has no room in nature 
 even though he were omnipotent enough to let the 
 stars spin around his fingers. Yet there is a great 
 truth in the idea of God. The religion of science 
 recognizes that there is a power, an all-pervading
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 21 
 
 law in the universe, which is not personal, but super- 
 personal. And this superpersonal power not only 
 obtains in the motions of the stars and in the laws of 
 cosmic life, but also in the destinies of nations, in the 
 growth of society, and in the fates of individuals. It 
 wrecks those who do not conform to its injunctions. 
 If Laplace had sought for this God, for the God of 
 science, who is a reality of life no less than the law 
 of gravitation, he would not have failed to discover 
 him. We need not search the skies in order to 
 find this God. We need but look mto our own hearts, 
 for there he lives in our ethical aspirations and ideals. 
 He is not far from every one of us, for in him we live, 
 and move, and have our being. 
 
 The old religion of m.agic teaches that God works 
 by magic, and can in turn be worked upon by magic. 
 Hence the institutions of prayer and adoration in 
 spite of Christ's command that God is spirit, and 
 those who worship him must worship him in spirit and 
 in truth. The new worship is no adoration, but obe- 
 dience to the ethical laws, as Christ says : " Not every 
 one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into 
 the kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will of 
 my Father which is in heaven." The God of science 
 demands no creed, but deed. What is creed but the 
 belief in the letter of parables ? And is it not ex- 
 pressly and repeatedly stated that Christ's words are 
 truths symbolically expressed? ''AH these things 
 spake Jesus unto the multitude in parables ; and with-
 
 22 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 out a parable spake he not unto them." (Matt. 
 XIII, 34). 
 
 What would Christ say, if he saw the modern 
 paganism of Christianity which has retained a modi- 
 fied idolatry, instead of realizing the purely ethical 
 religion of a worship in spirit and in truth ? His 
 word that "God is spirit" is wrongly translated 
 by the phrase "God is a Spirit." This insertion of 
 the article alters the entire sense of the passage. It 
 changes God into a Ghost, into a bodiless person, 
 and gives new occasion for the continuation of pagan 
 rites and customs. 
 
 There is a tendency now along the whole line of 
 scientific enquiry to prove that every one of our 
 sciences ultimately stands on facts. Mathematics and 
 logic were formerly supposed to hang in mid-air, 
 their fundamental truths were said to be axioms that 
 need no proof because they are self-evident. Modern 
 mathematics has succeeded in proving that mathema- 
 tics is ultimately based on facts no less than any other 
 science, and the same has been proved of logic. 
 Modern Mathematics has not superseded Euclid, and 
 modern logic has not superseded Aristotle. Yet the 
 modern conception of these sciences has made an 
 amendment which will guard against the error that 
 the formal sciences are anything like an unexplain- 
 able miraculous revelation. 
 
 We are so much accustomed to respect those 
 things only, the origin of which we do not compre-
 
 ETHICS A SCIENCE. 23 
 
 hend, that it seems to us like a disappointment if we 
 are told we should be able to understand the founda- 
 tion of ethics and to search for its basis among facts. 
 Indeed those who yet believe in absolute ideas, those 
 who have not as yet succeeded in coming down to 
 facts, still stand beyond the line of demarcation that 
 separates the old view from the modern or scientific 
 view. The idea to base ethics on absolute concep- 
 tions, on mystic emotions, on vague methods of in- 
 tuition, or on incomprehensible ideals, is in principle 
 not very different from the old method of a superna- 
 tural revelation of ethics. The line of distinction is 
 sharper than any color line can be, and those who 
 have not as yet felt the need of basing ethics upon 
 facts cannot be said to be imbued with the spirit of 
 modern ethics. 
 
 Here is an ideal worthy of the noblest efforts of 
 our enthusiasm. Ideals may have, as I said before, 
 a lowly origin. This detracts not in the least from 
 their divine grandeur. On the contrary this adds to 
 their greatness. This world of ours is not a world 
 suited to the taste of the pleasure-seeker, yet it affords 
 an ample field to the man who finds his satisfaction 
 in realizing ideals. 
 
 Ideals are born of want, and the birth of ideals is 
 often accompanied by painful throes, by suffering, 
 anguish, and anxiety. Yet all the affliction man has 
 to undergo is fully compensated in the noble satis- 
 faction he enjoys in the work of realizing his ideals.
 
 24 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Be not afraid lest in this world the Ideal 
 Should disappear, or like a flower fade ; 
 For she is not mere fancy's fickle shade. 
 
 She is a glowing presence, true and real. 
 
 Still firmly an alliance hymeneal 
 Joins her to Human Progress, as a maid 
 Is wedded to a hero, whom his blade 
 
 Protects; thus faithfully he shields the Ideal. 
 
 Wondrously from this bridal union springs 
 
 The life which, breathing through the human race 
 In ardent youth shines forth from every face ; 
 It lends to the inventor fancy's wings. 
 And stirs the poet's heart, who gaily sings 
 The Ideal's beauty and the Ideal's grace.
 
 THE DATA OF ETHICS. 
 
 All knowledge is a representation of facts in sen- 
 tient beings. Those facts which form the subject- 
 matter of a special branch of knowledge are called its 
 data. For instance the data of astronomy are the mo- 
 tions of the celestial bodies, the data of botany are the 
 phenomena of plant-life. 
 
 What are the data of ethics? 
 
 The data of ethics are the motives for human action. 
 
 In order to understand the laws that regulate the 
 motives for human action, we must study the soul of 
 man, the origin and mechanism of its ideas, their re- 
 lations to the surrounding world and above all the in- 
 terconnections that obtain between man and man. 
 
 It devolves upon us to explain how man happens 
 to be a moral being. Having motives, man must have 
 aims, and he can have aims only by being able to fore- 
 cast future events and calculate the consequences of 
 his intended actions. We must further understand 
 how man can have motives of duty stronger than his 
 personal interests. The motives of duty are called 
 conscience. This will lead us to the ultimate purpose 
 of ethics : How can we make man responsible for his 
 actions and how can we educate him to obey the be-
 
 26 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 bests of his conscience, the motives of duty, in prefe- 
 rence to all egotistic desires? 
 
 Man is the only creature on earth that is an ethical 
 being, because he alone is able to think. The begin- 
 ning of all ethics is thought. Before I act, I think, 
 I can forecast the probable result of my action ; yea, 
 even more than the probable result. If I know all the 
 conditions and control them, I can with certainty fore- 
 tell the consequence. It appears wonderful that man 
 can know something before it happens, and yet it is a 
 fact ; and if it were no fact, how could we have ethics? 
 
 This is the old problem of Kant's a priori, which has 
 caused much dispute among philosophers. Mr. John 
 Stuart Mill has tried to do away with it, he put it 
 down and denounced it ; but the a priori is like a stand- 
 up, that queer wooden toy-man standing upon a 
 rounded leaden base. You may knock down the stand- 
 up as often as you please, it will spring to its feet 
 again. So the a priori h2iS been declared to be an im- 
 possibility, but here it is again. 
 
 Says Kant* : "We say of a man who undermined 
 his house, he might have known a priori that it would 
 fall ; that is, he need not have waited for the experience 
 that it did actually fall." 
 
 The a priori is the foundation of all our ethical 
 action in the widest sense of the term ethics ; it is the 
 
 * •' Critique of Pure Reason," 2d Edition, Introduction.
 
 THE DATA OF Ernies. 27 
 
 basis of all practical application of knowledge. If we 
 were not able to forecast the result of our actions, 
 there would be no ethology. 
 
 Is it not marvelous that man can know something 
 before gaining the actual experience of it ? Is this 
 not an inexplainable mystery, the influence of some 
 supernatural power ? — No. The mystery of the a priori 
 is easily explained as soon as we understand the na- 
 ture of formal laws. 
 
 If I construct a number of triangles all different in 
 shape, rectangular, obtuse, and equilateral, I shall find 
 that the sum of the angles of each of them measures 
 one hundred and eighty degrees. This is wonderful 
 indeed; but it is not miraculous. It is a necessary 
 consequence ; in all these cases like conditions pro- 
 duce hke results. And mathematics as a science is 
 engaged in showing how the conditions are the same, 
 although they may at first sight appear different. 
 
 It is true that we cannot determine beforehand how 
 some substance which we have never seen before, will 
 be affected by this or that treatment ; but we do knov/ 
 beforehand the laws that underlie 07ie quality in all the 
 things which in our experience we can possibly meet. 
 We do know beforehand the laws of form, and every- 
 thing that exists, everything that can become an ob- 
 ject of our experience, is equally subject to the laws 
 of form. If I put twice two apples into a basket, I 
 have put four apples into it. "Twice two are four " 
 is perhaps the simplest statement of a formal law, and
 
 28 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 we know beforehand that wherever the same action of 
 two being doubled takes place, the result will always 
 be the same ; it will be the product of twice two, which 
 we call four. When we know that a result will always 
 be the same, we call it necessary. 
 
 Thus we can formulate all the formal laws and we 
 can know beforehand that no experience ever will re- 
 fute them. The formal laws of numbers we call arith- 
 metic; those of spacial relations "mathematics," those 
 of thinking "logic," and the formal laws of natural 
 sciences are sometimes called "metaphysics."* 
 
 The formal laws being universal are, objectively 
 considered, the conditions of the regularity that pre- 
 vails in nature; subjectively considered, being conceived 
 as necessary, they afford us the means of comprehend- 
 ing the phenomena of nature. Comprehension is 
 nothing but the recognition of the regularity that pre- 
 vails in the facts of experience, and comprehension 
 enables us to suit our actions to special purposes, and 
 thus to determine the course of events. 
 
 Ethics, accordingly, is ultimately based upon the 
 same universal order of things that makes mathe- 
 matics, arithmetic, logic, and human reason, possible. 
 Reason is that quality of man that makes him an 
 ethical being. 
 
 ♦The word metaphysics has often been defined as the science of the mystical 
 essence which underlies the existence of reality. Metaphysical was (accord- 
 ing to a wrong etymology of the word) supposed to be that which lies behind 
 the physical. This kind of metaphysics has long since been superseded by 
 positivism. The most important law of true metaphysics, i. e., purely formal 
 natural science, is that of the conservation of matter and energy.
 
 THE DATA OF Ernies. 29 
 
 Reason has been supposed to be of supernatural 
 origin ; yet reason is no more supernatural than is the 
 ability to understand that twice two will always be the 
 product of twice two, that is four. This very ability 
 is reason, for all the complicated activities of our mind 
 in logical argumentation and ratiocination, all methods 
 of induction and deduction are the same thing over 
 again, they are formal thought or applications of formal 
 thought.* 
 
 The laws of form being the key to our understand- 
 ing the regularity of the course of nature, reason, as 
 it were, reveals to us the unity of All-existence. This 
 revelation is no revelation in the old theological sense, 
 it is a natural revelation, the origin of which we can 
 trace in the formal laws of existence. This revelation 
 is not the inexplicable act of an extra-mundane deity; 
 it is no mysticism, no supernaturalism. It is simply 
 the recognition of the universal order of things. Knowl- 
 edge being the representation of facts, this revelation 
 is nothing but the recognition of the regularity that 
 prevails among these facts, and this recognition pours 
 
 ♦Kant distinguishes between "transcendental," i. e., formal, and 
 "transcendent," i. e., that which transcends all comprehension. Everything 
 supernatural is transcendent; but those truths which Kant calls "transcen- 
 dental" are by no means "transcendent"; they are the clearest thoughts 
 possible, the laws of logic, arithmetic, mathematics. If there is anything 
 transcendent, our knowledge of it is necessarily mysticism. 
 
 Kant made a grave mistake when he called formal thought "transcen- 
 dental." For Kant's disciples confounded both words and considered trans- 
 cendental truths as transcendent. Thus the radical Kant became, in their 
 minds, a supporter of supernaturalism, and those thoughts of his which des- 
 troyed all mysticism, became a now basis of it.
 
 30 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 a flood of light over this world of ours, for while the 
 many various facts of experience at first appeared to 
 us as a bewildering chaos without rhyme or reason, 
 we now learn to consider it as a cosmos in which the 
 minutest detail is ordained by an immanent and in- 
 trinsic law. 
 
 * * 
 
 Kant has written an excellent little book in which 
 he lays the foundation for a metaphysics of ethics. 
 It is entitled Grividlegung zur Metaphysik der Sit ten. 
 In this book he enquires into the purpose of reason. 
 Is happiness the end of reason? Kant says, no! He 
 argues : 
 
 •' In the physical constitution of an organized being we take 
 it for granted that no organ will be found in it for any purpose but 
 such as is also the fittest and best adapted for that purpose. If in 
 a being possessing reason and will, the preservation, the prosperity, 
 in a word, the happiness of that being constituted the actual pur- 
 pose of nature, nature had certainly adopted an extremely unwise 
 expedient to this end, had it made the reason of that being the 
 executive agent of its purposes in this matter. For all actions that 
 it had to perform with this end in view, and the whole rule of its 
 conduct, would have been far more exactly prescribed by instinct, 
 and this end would have been far more safely attained by this 
 means than can ever take place through the instrumentality of 
 'I'eason. 
 
 " As a matter of fact we find, that the more a cultivated reason 
 occupies itself with the purpose of enjoying life and happiness, 
 the farther does the person possessing it recede from the state of 
 true contentment ; and hence there arises in the case of many, and 
 pre-eminently in the case of those most experienced in the exercise
 
 THE DATA OF ETHICS. 31 
 
 of reason, if they are only frank enough to confess it, a certain 
 degree of " misology " or hate of reason ; for after weighing every 
 advantage that they derive, I will not say from the invention of all 
 arts facilitating ordinary luxury, but even from the sciences, 
 (which after all are in their eyes a luxury of the intellect,) they 
 still discover that virtually they have burdened themselves more 
 with toil and trouble than they have gained in point of happiness, 
 and thus, in the end, they are more apt to envy than contemn the 
 commoner type of men who are more immediately subject to the 
 guidance of natural instinct alone, and who do not suffer their 
 reason to influence in any great degree their acts and omissions." 
 
 What then is the use of reason, if its purpose can- 
 not be found in producing happiness ? Reason en- 
 ables us to comprehend the regularity of the order 
 of nature and the unity of cosmic existence. Every- 
 thing that exists conforms to it. And if some com- 
 bination of things ceases to conform to the laws of 
 cosmic existence, it will ultimately meet with destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 We have learned in our previous lecture that all 
 knowledge can be formulated as an ethical prescript. 
 Thus we express the same truth ethologically as fol- 
 lows : If you wish to exist, obey reason. Reason 
 teaches us how to regulate our actions in conformity 
 with the order of natural laws. If we do regulate them 
 in conformity with the order of natural laws, they will 
 stand ; otherwise not. In the former case they will be 
 good, they will agree with the cosmical conditions of 
 existence ; in the latter case they are bad, they will 
 not agree with the cosmical conditions of existence ;
 
 32 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 therefore they will necessarily produce disorder and 
 evil. 
 
 Kant calls this attitude of man, produced under 
 the influence of reason and prompting him to conform 
 to universal laws, "the good will." This attitude of 
 the will, Kant says, ''is not the sole and whole good, 
 but it must still be considered as the highest good and 
 the condition necessary to everything else, even to all 
 desire of happiness." 
 
 The conclusion derived from these premises Kant 
 formulates in the following statement : 
 
 ' ' To know what I have to do in order that my volition be good, 
 requires on my part no far-reaching sagacity. Unexperienced in 
 respect to the course of nature, unable to be prepared for all the 
 occurrences transpiring therein, I simply ask myself : Canst thou 
 so will, that the maxim of thy conduct may become a universal 
 law? Where it can not become a universal law, there the maxim 
 of thy conduct is reprehensible, and that, too, not by reason of 
 any disadvantage consequent thereupon to thee or even others, but 
 because it is not fit to enter as a principle into a possible enact- 
 ment of universal laws." 
 
 II. 
 
 Kant's ethics has been criticized of late as "mere 
 formalism ; " yet could we not on the same ground 
 reject all the sciences because they are based upon 
 the laws of formal thought? It proves the superiority 
 of Kant's reasoning that he so clearly shows the formal 
 side of ethics. We cannot treat of grammar without 
 understanding logic ! Or if we do, our discussions
 
 THE DATA 01' ETHICS. 33 
 
 will be idle talk. Any investigation into ethics ac- 
 cordingly must be based upon clear notions of the 
 metaphysics of morals, or as we would prefer to call 
 it of "purely formal ethics." 
 
 The criticism of Kant's ethics would be justified, 
 if formal ethics were the whole of ethics. However 
 formal ethics is as little the whole of ethics as logic is 
 the whole of grammar. The principle of modern 
 ethics is to base ethics upon facts, and the formal laws 
 that regulate the interconnection of facts is one part 
 only of all the facts. Purely formal ethics, like all the 
 purely formal sciences, is empty. The contents of 
 formal ethics must be derived from the actual facts of 
 our experiences. 
 
 The application of the precept "so to will that 
 the maxim of thy conduct can become a universal 
 law," depends entirely upon the society of which an 
 individual is a member. The same formal law might 
 be applicable to the code of a band of robbers no less 
 than to the customs of peaceful citizens. How can 
 we determine whether the maxim of a certain action 
 is "fit to enter as a principle into a possible enact- 
 ment of universal laws, " otherwise than by experience ? 
 Man being a rational animal, he naturally will employ 
 his reason ; but reason can be employed to advantage 
 only if it uses the material of facts, as we find it in 
 experience. Ratiocinations of pure formalism may 
 be good mental exercises, they may be indispensable 
 for training the mind, yet if they had no practical
 
 34 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 purposes, if they were not applied, and never to be 
 applied to actual facts, they would be as sounding 
 brass or a tinkling cymbal. 
 
 The facts to be considered in ethics are the many 
 and various relations in which man stands to his sur- 
 roundings. These relations produce the many different 
 motives that prompt man's actions. The most im- 
 portant relations of all for ethical consideration are 
 those which connect the life of a single individual to 
 the fates of all his fellow beings. The relation be- 
 tween man and man constitutes that super-individual 
 soul-life which we call society. 
 
 Relations are not material things, and it is difficult 
 therefore to understand that they are actual and most 
 important realities. Relations are facts of experience 
 also. Let us for the sake of illustration imagine that 
 all the relations of a man to his surroundings are so 
 many invisible silken threads, fastened to those spots 
 of his body where the objects affect him. Every con- 
 tact with the outer world sets some of these threads in 
 vibration, thus causing a commotion among the in- 
 numerable plugs or hooks to which they are fastened. 
 This commotion is the pulsation of man's physical 
 and mental activity. The contact of his breathing 
 organs with the oxygen of the air keeps the flame of 
 his life aglow, and the constant consumption of the 
 energy with which the structures of his organism are
 
 THE DATA OF ETHICS. 35 
 
 freighted, causes the need of renewing them for a 
 continuation of the process of Hfe. 
 
 Among all the threads that connect man's body with 
 the outer world and the different parts of the body 
 among themselves, there are some that pass through 
 the sensory organs to his brain ; the end stations to 
 which they are hooked, are the different places v/here 
 a commotion produces a state of consciousness repre- 
 senting that object with which it stands in relation. 
 The hooks in man's brain are not only connected with 
 threads that pass through the sensory organs into the 
 brain, but also with others that connect the hooks 
 among themselves and connect some hooks with the 
 muscles of the body. Thus a commotion caused 
 among the cerebral hooks will set the muscles in 
 motion. 
 
 Now suppose that a consumption of energy has 
 taken place through the contact with the outer world, 
 there will result a strong pull of certain threads to the 
 brain and a state of consciousness will be produced 
 which we call hunger and thirst. 
 
 This state of consciousness acts as an irritation 
 upon man. It prompts him to action, and in so far 
 as it is the cause of some motion, we call it "motive." 
 Motive is that which moves, and the distinction we 
 make between cause and motive, is that a motive is a 
 cause which in its action is accompanied with con- 
 sciousness. The motion of an organism that is ac- 
 companied with consciousness is called "action," or
 
 3G THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 an ''act," and the attitude of passing into action is 
 called "will." 
 
 The hooks on which the innumerable threads are 
 fastened, represent man's soul. What are these hooks 
 and how did they originate ? 
 
 The world-substance cannot be dead matter ; it 
 must contain, in its simplest and most elementary 
 forms, the germs of life, so that in special combina- 
 tions, as we find them in organized animal substance, 
 the motion of atoms is accompanied with feeling.* 
 
 In consideration of the fact that the whole world in 
 all its dimensions is a most complicated network of 
 causes and effects, it will be natural that an animal 
 organism, which has been formed somewhere, will be 
 affected by innumerable impressions that show an un- 
 failing regularity. The different impressions will pro- 
 duce different forms of structure in the organism, and 
 the motions vibrating through the different structures 
 will be accompanied with different feelings. The 
 preservation of these forms is called ' ' the memory of 
 living substance," and modern investigations of physi- 
 ology teach us that all the various functions of the 
 different organs and nerve-cells are due to the un- 
 conscious memory of the living substance inherited 
 from countless ancestors. Accordingly, these hooks 
 of our soul of which we spoke, are nothing but the 
 
 * Compare the article " Is Nature Alive ? " in Fundamental Problems, 
 pp. 1 10-133.
 
 THE D.il'.l OF ETHICS. 37 
 
 effects which the threads of causal relations have pro- 
 duced by constant contact. 
 
 Innumerable sensory impressions have produced 
 in the feeling substance representations of their 
 causes in the surrounding world ; and many of these 
 representations act as stimuli, they are motives for 
 action. 
 
 * * 
 
 Ethics is an estimation of the motives for action, 
 whether we shall yield to them or suppress them, and 
 in case we have to choose among several motives of 
 which one only can be selected, ethics has to instruct 
 us as to which motive is to be preferred. But ethics 
 can be of service only if it gives us a principle ac- 
 cording to which we can form our judgment. Ethics 
 without a principle or maxim, without a standard for 
 discrimination, is no ethics. It may be enthusiasm, 
 it may be sentimentality, it may be zeal for some un- 
 known good ; it may be mysticism or romanticism, 
 but it is not ethics, for judgment as to right and 
 wrong, according to a definite conviction, is the very 
 nature of ethics. Take away that conviction, deprive 
 ethics of the principle of estimation, and ethics will 
 cease to be ethics. 
 
 Ethics by passing judgment upon man's motives 
 will under ordinary circumstances always strengthen 
 some of them and weaken others. Yet, an ethical 
 man is he whose aspiration it is to live in perfect har- 
 mony with the moral law. To him it will be impossi-
 
 38 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 ble to let any motive pass into act upon wnich the 
 verdict of "wrong" has been pronounced by the jury 
 
 of his ethical consideration. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 The most important relations of a man are the re- 
 lations that obtain between him and his fellow-beings. 
 They form the soul-Hfe of a super-individual organ- 
 ism which is called society. The importance of these 
 connections is enormous, and their overwhelming in- 
 fluence upon the emotions of every individual cannot 
 be overrated. Every individual is, by the thousands 
 of threads that connect him with wife and children, 
 with friends and fellow-citizens, tied to society. Con- 
 sider the immense power of the inherited memory of 
 sociological functions in past generations, and we shall 
 easily comprehend the strength of social motives. 
 
 Some philosophers are prone to consider egotistic 
 motives as the natural springs of action, while they 
 look upon purely altruistic motives as something ex- 
 traordinary and inexplainable. They are wrong; 
 egotistic motives are no more and no less natural than 
 altruistic and social motives. Both have developed 
 at the same time, both have differentiated from mor- 
 ally indifferent and simple reflex actions. Morally in- 
 different are those actions concerning the motives of 
 which no ethical estimation is required. The lowest 
 stages of animal development know neither egotism 
 nor altruism. The differentiation of both appears si- 
 multaneously at a later period. It is remarkable that
 
 THE DATA OF ETHICS. 39 
 
 in the mental development of a child, the ability of 
 speaking in the first person with the pronoun "I" 
 signifies a comparatively mature state of mind. 
 
 When some egotistic motive impels man to do 
 an act that is injurious to one or several of his 
 fellow beings, he experiences a pull of the social 
 threads which is sometimes very strong even in the 
 thoughtless. It often acts like a thunderstorm with 
 the irresistible force of elementary powers. And the 
 behests of conscience overruling with imperative com- 
 mand man's individual interests appear to him, and 
 indeed they are, invested with that superindividual 
 authority which conscience represents. The behests 
 of conscience confront us as an "ought" and we call 
 them our duty, obedience to which is as a rule tacitly 
 admitted. 
 
 Conscience is nothing supernatural, it is of a nat- 
 ural growth. Man being a social animal, it is all but 
 impossible that the social instinct and the motives for 
 actions in behalf of society should not have been 
 strongly developed. There are people in whom ego- 
 tistic desires possess greater strength than moral im- 
 pulses, but it is all but impossible that a man should 
 be void of all conscience. 
 
 The animal allows itself to be guided by instinct, 
 but it is the prerogative of man to regulate his actions 
 by reason. Conscience as a mere moral instinct is 
 certainly, as experience teaches in many most perplex- 
 ing situations, often the safest and best guide. Never-
 
 40 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 theless conscience as a mere instinct can by no means 
 be considered as infallible; nor must we lose sight 
 of the fact that the different behests of conscience 
 very often come in conflict among themselves. But 
 even if it were not so, the dignity of man as a rational 
 being demands that he should examine all his mo- 
 tives and also the behests of conscience. 
 
 III. 
 
 The purpose of ethics is to determine the moral 
 import of the different motives, and we ask now what 
 is the principle that should guide us in our estimation 
 concerning the worth of motives. 
 
 When we try to explain the growLh and origin of 
 man's soul, v/e must go back to the first appearance 
 of living substance. Human soul-life would be an 
 inexplainable mystery if we did not consider the con- 
 tinuity of soul-life through all the generations of man's 
 ancestors from the very beginning. The facts that 
 scientists have brought to light in studying the phases 
 of evolution require us to regard humanity as one 
 great and immortal organism. The soul-life of our 
 ancestors continues in us and at the same time must 
 we know the most important fibres of our emotional 
 and intellectual soul-life originate in the relations that 
 bind us to our fellow-beings. These considerations 
 remove the barriers that seem to obtain between the 
 individual and humanity — aye, and the whole creation 
 of cosmic existence.
 
 rilli DATA OF ETHICS. 41 
 
 We are apt to think that our soul-life is something 
 quite distinct from the outside world. The subjective 
 world of representations is so different from the ob- 
 jective world of things. Nevertheless they are one. 
 Every sensation is a subjective state, but it is such 
 only through the objective state that causes it. It is 
 no mere internal act but it is a relation between object 
 and subject — a relation in which neither subject nor 
 object is a redundant element. In the course of evo- 
 lution and in the development of human soul-life, the 
 representations of the surrounding world and of man's 
 relations become increasingly distinct. The regularity 
 that obtains in nature around him and within him is 
 more clearly recognized ; and man's power over nature 
 grows in the same measure as the human soul expands 
 in the comprehension of facts. In this sense we speak 
 of a higher evolution of the human soul. The facts 
 carefully gathered by all the sciences, by comparative 
 physiology, history, psychology, prove that the ten- 
 dency of growth of a higher evolution is intrinsic. As 
 a child grows whether he will or not, so humanity de- 
 velops, and it has often developed differently from 
 what the philosophers expected ; and there are many 
 in whom the spirit of progress was active who ''builded 
 better than they knew." Yet while the growth and 
 progress of humanity, of the soul-life of society as well 
 as of the individual soul, is of a spontaneous nature, 
 man can, to a great extent, make or mar his own fate 
 and that of his race. Man certainly cannot make the
 
 42 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 details of his physical growth, yet he can easily mar it 
 by negligence. And his mental development depends 
 entirely upon a wise choice and direction which is 
 of his own making. 
 
 We can thus promote or retard the development of 
 human soul-life : all the efforts that tend to preserve 
 and to promote it, are "good," while all the efforts 
 that tend to dwarf it, are "bad." 
 
 The task of ethics is to expand the interests of each 
 individual so that they embrace the weal and woe of 
 the whole human race in all its future generations. It 
 is not enough to take into consideration the narrow 
 span of our present life, we must regulate our motives 
 according to an ethics of eternity. We must not 
 think and feel and act as individuals who care nothing 
 for future generations ; we must think, and feel, and 
 act, as the immortal human soul, which is the soul of 
 mankind. It began with the beginning of all life upon 
 earth, it lives now in us, it glows in our thoughts and 
 hopes, and it will continue to live in future humanity. 
 
 There will be a time when this generation will have 
 passed away, when we shall be no more — and yet we 
 shall continue to live ; our work done in the interest 
 of humanity, our soul-life will continue beyond the 
 grave. 
 
 The efforts we have made in childhood and in 
 youth to expand our soul, say, for instance, in study-
 
 THE DATA OF ETHICS. 43 
 
 ing at school, continue to live in us even now. The 
 material particles that did the work at that time, have 
 long since passed away in the flux of matter, but the 
 structures in our brain (representing the physio- 
 logical basis of our memories), as they were shaped 
 through our former activity, remain, because the re- 
 newal of our brain tissues, indeed the renewal of all 
 living structures, preserves the forms once produced, 
 thus constituting a continuity of soul-life. 
 
 The continuity of soul-hfe and the preservation of 
 the forms of brain tissue which are the physiological 
 basis of thoughts and the memories of thoughts, are 
 patent to every one of us. But the continuity of soul- 
 life is a law also in the development of our whole 
 race. The souls of our ancestors and their thoughts 
 are as little lost as is the work of our school days. 
 They continue to live in us, for our souls have grown 
 from theirs, they are a reproduction, a re-formation, 
 a continuation of their soul-life. 
 
 The continuity of the soul-life of humanity is as 
 strong and demonstrable as that of the individual. The 
 ethical duty for the single moments of man's life and 
 the individual atoms of his body is based on the very 
 same principle as the ethical duty of individuals toward 
 humanity. A single motive in our soul that presses upon 
 our will to pass into act, has no right to be considered for 
 itself alone ; all the other motives have at least the same 
 right. Thus we ought to compare them and decide which 
 will contribute most to enhance human soul-life. Every
 
 44 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 motive must be weighed against all other motives of 
 the present and the future ; and those which tend to 
 lower the standard of human soul-life in ourselves or 
 in the race should never be permitted to pass into 
 action. 
 
 If all the motives of man were so many single and 
 isolated or sovereign feelings, there would be no ethics. 
 The data of ethics are not motives that are equivalent, 
 i. e., of equal value, but unequal motives ; unequal in 
 their worth, and those which either promise or actually 
 afford the greatest pleasure are by no means those 
 which deserve the highest ethical approval. 
 
 What a poor creature man would be if we could 
 deprive his soul of all those thoughts that represent 
 his connections with mankind ! The strength of a 
 tiger chiefly lies in his muscles and his teeth ; yet the 
 greatness and the strength of man lies in his relation 
 to the human race. The human soul is powerful be- 
 cause of its connections with mankind, which form 
 the superindividual element of the soul. The data of 
 ethics therefore cannot be found in the individual 
 alone as a separated being, but in the super-individual 
 
 relations of the individual ; and the social motives 
 like so many invisible threads pull in his mind power- 
 fully so that for the peace of his soul and for his own 
 satisfaction he must obey; or he will ruin himself.
 
 THE DATA Of ETHICS. 45 
 
 IV. 
 
 Having sketched as briefly as possible the condi- 
 tions of ethics that make ethics possible, that con- 
 dition its growth and its importance, I will not con- 
 clude without touching an important point concerning 
 which there is little agreement and still less clearness. 
 It is the problem of man's freedom of will. Is there 
 free will, or is free will an illusion ? 
 
 It is generally conceded that a free man only can 
 be held responsible for his action ; a slave who does 
 not act from free will, who is compelled to do this and 
 to leave that alone, cannot be held responsible. 
 
 Epictetus said : ' ' No one can deprive us of our free 
 will," and Schiller said : "Man is free e'en were he 
 born in chains." 
 
 All the sages of mankind, all the great moral 
 teachers of the world have inculcated the truth that a 
 man can be free if he wants to be, and that freedom of 
 will is possible only by observing the moral law. The 
 man who yields to his passions enslaves himself, he 
 commits actions which later on will bring consequences 
 upon him that he will have to regret ; or they will en- 
 tangle him in a net of circumstances that will be like 
 iron fetters upon his will. But he who controls his 
 passions by self-discipline, will preserve his freedom 
 of will. 
 
 This doctrine of free will has on the one hand by
 
 46 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 theologians been declared to be an inscrutable mystery, 
 and on the other hand it has been denounced by so- 
 called freethinkers as an illusion. The idea of free- 
 dom of will has been represented as if it were an ex- 
 ception in the course of natural processes. All phe- 
 nomena are determined by causes, yet the actions of 
 a free will were supposed not to be determined by 
 cause. 
 
 The cause that sets the will into motion, we call 
 motive. If free will meant a will not determined by 
 motives, it would indicate a state of disease ; for an 
 unmotived action is, properly considered, no action, 
 but a mere reflex motion, caused through pathological 
 conditions. The action of a free will of this type must 
 appear to us as the arbitrary whim of an alienated 
 person ; and people whose actions are not determined 
 by motives cannot be considered responsible, and ought 
 to be confined in an asylum. 
 
 The old theological conception of the freedom of 
 will is not only untenable, it is self-contradictory, and 
 will not stand a close examination. It is erroneously 
 defined, not as "the freedom to act as one wills," but 
 as "the freedom to will as one wills," — as if there were 
 any sense in the conception that a man can will dif- 
 ferently from what he wills! 
 
 In opposition to this false statement of a free will, 
 the adversaries of religious ethics rose and declared 
 that there is no such a thing as freedom of will. Every 
 act of ours is determined ; and therefore they declared
 
 rilE DATA OF ETHICS. 47 
 
 we are compelled to act as we do. The criminal acts 
 as he does of necessity and a moral man also acts 
 morally, of necessity ; both are, so they say, slaves of 
 their motives. Both obey the compulsion of a natural 
 law. 
 
 Strange these very same men who object so strongly 
 to the idea of free will, are the very same men who 
 clamor for freedom of thought, and generally call 
 themselves "freethinkers." If there is no freedom of 
 will, there is certainly no freedom of thought, for the 
 laws of thought are very rigid and admit of no freedom. 
 
 The mistake made by both, the old school of theo- 
 logians as well as their antagonists, is a lack of dis- 
 tinction between necessity and compulsion. Neces- 
 sity is that which is determined by law ; compulsion, 
 however, is an act of violence to force a man to do 
 something against his will. A slave that is compelled 
 to work for his master, is not free ; he would not work 
 if he were not forced to do it. A free man, let us say 
 an artist full of an idea, executes his work without any 
 compulsion, he works of his own free will. His actions 
 are determined by a motive of his own, not by a foreign 
 pressure. Therefore we call him free. 
 
 A freethinker tells me that a man's motive compels 
 him to act as he does ; accordingly, man is a slave of his 
 motive. I would have no objection to the usage of the 
 word compulsion in that sense, if it were properly un- 
 derstood. In that case the free man would be he who 
 himself compels himself to whatever actions he under-
 
 48 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 takes while the slave is compelled by other things, for 
 instance, by his master's whip. But this usage of the 
 word compulsion is contrary to custom, and we would, 
 if we changed our language in this way, produce the 
 impression in our mind as if the act which is deter- 
 mined by a motive that resides within a man's soul 
 and is a part and a characteristic feature of himself, is 
 exactly the same as that act which is the result of com- 
 pulsion. It would produce the impression as if a free 
 man were as irresponsible for his action as is a slave. 
 A free man, in that case, ought to be called a slave, 
 and a freethinker an enslaved thinker. 
 
 Freedom of thought can mean only the absence of 
 all compulsion, that prevents thought of thinking in 
 accordance with the laws of thought. Yet in the ab- 
 sence of all compulsion thought, in order to be correct, 
 has rigorously to obey the laws of thought. There is 
 no freedom of thought in the sense that we may reach 
 this or that conclusion just as we please. 
 
 There is no doubt that the actions of a man are 
 strictly determined by his motives. A will not deter- 
 mined by a motive is as nonsensical as an effect 
 not produced through a cause. And if actions could 
 be willed by a will not determined through mo- 
 tives, ethics would have no sense. What would be 
 the use of implanting moral motives into the minds of 
 men, of teaching them the laws of nature and the laws 
 of society, to which they have to conform, if their ac-
 
 THE DATA OF ETHICS. 49 
 
 tions after all would not be determined by these or 
 any other motives? 
 
 Responsibility is the consciousness of a free man, 
 that he is the author of his actions and of their conse- 
 quences. He, himself, and also others have to bear 
 the consequences of his actions, be it for good or 
 for evil. A man who knows the lav/s of nature and 
 especially also the moral law that pervades and builds 
 up society, and who has at the same time the good will 
 to conform to it, is a law unto himself. He will act 
 morally, not from compulsion but from free will ; and 
 this attitude of being a law unto himself, we call the 
 autonomy of will, derived from otvroz, self, and vofxo^, 
 law. The autonomous man alone is a free man ; he 
 alone is an ethical man ; and the autonomy of man 
 constitutes the dignity, the majesty, the divinity of 
 man. 
 
 Ethics alone can make a state of society possible 
 which consists of free men. Ethics instructs men 
 about the moral law, and by implanting the moral 
 law in their souls so as to rule the habits of their lives, 
 it makes them autonomous. If there is a millennium 
 possible upon earth, it can be realized through ethics 
 only. We shall not be able to abolish all pain, and 
 struggle, and anxiety, for life is strife, and there is no 
 growth, no progress, without disturbances, pains, and 
 anxieties. Yet we can abolish the worst evils of exist- 
 ence, which are those produced by our own ignorance 
 and narrowness. Let every man be a law unto himself
 
 50 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 and society will be better than it is now ; it will be 
 the realization of the highest ideals of mankind, of 
 justice, of order, and of freedom. 
 
 Man's freedom means not licence : 
 
 Nor action without cause : 
 Man's freedom is obeisance 
 
 Unto the soul's own laws. 
 
 For Anarchy unruly 
 
 Must leave, a slave, you still. 
 Mark ! Liberty is, truly. 
 
 Autonomy of will. 
 
 A weakling seeks for pleasures. — 
 
 Results learn to foresee ; 
 Heed Nature's laws and measures 
 
 Truth only makes you free.
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 
 
 Ethics as a science began with doubt. It was 
 doubted whether or not there is any true ethics, 
 whether or not non-egotistical motives can exist ; and 
 if they exist, whether their origin might not be of a 
 natural growth. 
 
 Prescientific ethics was mythological, as it had to 
 be. How could uneducated people understand the 
 application of abstract principles otherwise than in 
 parables. If ethics were not of such paramount im- 
 portance, it would scarcely have arisen before the dis- 
 covery of mathematics or logic. Being indispensable 
 to the welfare and progress of the human race, ethics 
 was first taught in myths and legends, which were ac- 
 cepted not in their allegorical but in their literal mean- 
 ing. Belief in their literal meaning was very soon 
 considered indispensable for all who sought partici- 
 pation in the sacred rewards promised in ethical myths. 
 It was feared, that if the letter should go, the spirit 
 would have to go also. 
 
 All myths in their literal meaning involve the mind 
 in absurdities, and so all mythological dogmas, unless 
 allegorically interpreted and understood according to 
 the purpose for which they were invented, are contrary
 
 52 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 to human reason. They convey truths which in their 
 mythological garb must appear paradoxical. The un- 
 believer objected to dogmas incompatible with reason 
 and he objected also to any ethics based upon myth- 
 ological ideas. 
 
 The development of ethics as a science has been a 
 continuous battle between the infidel doubter and the 
 pious believer ; the former generally aggressive, the 
 latter defensive; the former negative, bold, hasty, 
 radical in convictions, prone to m.ake sweeping as- 
 sertions, and ready to welcome any new discovery 
 that would seem to overthrow the old established 
 views; the latter conservative, more scholarly than 
 scientific, rather slow to understand new truths but 
 greatly appreciating the valuable gold contained in the 
 old truths. We find — how could it be otherwise ? — 
 misunderstandings on both sides. 
 
 The path of science in its victorious progress is 
 strewn with errors of heroes v/ho fought for truth. The 
 mistakes of the searchers for truth have often been 
 decried or at least ridiculed not only by their respec- 
 tive adversaries, but also by the following generations 
 who knew better than their predecessors because they 
 had reaped the fruits of their labors. Let us therefore 
 bear in mind that every scientific truth has become a 
 possession of the human mind only through an exam- 
 ination from many different points of view. The 
 defenders of those conceptions which had to be re- 
 jected did no less valuable and indispensable work
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 53 
 
 than those who were on the right track. For in the 
 search for truth every path has to be followed and 
 every possible solution must be considered. Most of 
 the errors in the development of the sciences are ne- 
 cessary errors ; they are attempts to find the truth 
 and often contain germs of the truth or represent one 
 phase of it which is distorted only by a one-sided con- 
 ception. 
 
 I. 
 
 The old dogmatic teachers of ethics, anxious to 
 establish their mythology as indispensable, used to 
 argue in this way: "All the sciences may be able 
 to prove that within each sphere of their investiga- 
 tions natural laws rule supreme. Yet the conduct of 
 man differs from natural phenomena ; if a man is 
 guided by moral motives, we must assume that a su- 
 pernatural influence is at work in his heart. If man 
 were merely a child of nature, he could follow the nat- 
 ural motives of egotism only. Since he possesses 
 motives that are altruistic and non-egotistic, this is an 
 indubitable sign that he carries v/ithin his soul a spark 
 of the supernatural, the divine. Conscience is the 
 voice of God; conscience teaches man his duty; 
 and the presence of conscience proves that man is 
 created in the image of sometliing supernatural — of 
 God, and that this supernatural being must exist." 
 
 From the standpoint of supernaturalism, the pres- 
 ence of conscience in man's soul remains unexplained 
 and is considered as inexplicable. The sense of
 
 54 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 duty is declared to be a miracle 3 the idea of what 
 is right and the meaning of the ought are treated as 
 facts not capable of analysis, which stand in contra- 
 diction to natural laws and which come to us by an act 
 of divine revelation. The idea of right, we are told, 
 is within us, and all we can do is to discover it there 
 by an introspection into the secrets of soul-life. From 
 the method recommended by this class of ethical en- 
 quirers, their conception of ethics is called intuitional- 
 ism. 
 
 In opposition to the intuitionalist, some infidel 
 philosophers denounced the idea that man could be 
 in possession of any other than natural motives ; they 
 declared it irrational, and in their zeal to defeat their 
 adversary they maintained that man followed only 
 egotistic motives. They denied the existence of purely 
 altruistic motives altogether ; and examples from real 
 life, where no egotistic motive could have influenced 
 a man, were so explained that altruistic motives ap- 
 peared as a special and refined kind of egotism. A 
 man loves hwiself in his wife, in his children, in his 
 friends, in his countrymen \ sacrifices brought for their 
 welfare, spring from mere egotism ; nothing more. It 
 not only gives him satisfaction to bring such sacrifices, 
 but he is also supposed to have brought them in order 
 to get fair returns for them. He is said to be like a 
 man who gives away money in the expectation of re- 
 ceiving it back with interest. 
 
 The religious teacher of ethics had always insisted
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 55 
 
 upon the sovereignty of the moral command ; it 
 must reign supreme over pleasures and pains. The 
 unbeliever attempting to undermine an important ar- 
 gument of the believer, maintained that ethics did 
 nothing of the kind. Ethics, if it tried, could not 
 suppress the natural desire to seek pleasure and to 
 avoid pain. The whole purpose of ethics, he de- 
 clared, is to avoid those pleasures which in the end 
 will necessarily cause pain, and to endure with pa- 
 tience those pains which are unavoidable conditions 
 for future pleasures. The good, it was maintained, is 
 the very same thing as the useful ; every thing that is 
 useful is good, and useful is that which affords more 
 pleasure than pain. From their definition of good, 
 this class of ethical enquirers adopted for their view 
 the name " Utilitarianism." 
 
 Bentham is generally looked upon as the most con- 
 sistent and classical representative of Utilitarianism, 
 and his works are a model of psychological insight 
 and keen judgment. Nevertheless, we must regard 
 his views as one phase in the history of ethics only 
 which is now recognized as one-sided. The failure of 
 Bentham's ethics is conceded even by those who are 
 his followers and disciples.* Bentham's utilitarianism 
 was an attempt to base ethics upon purely egotistic mo- 
 
 *H6ffding criticizes Bentham in his " Grundlage der humanen Ethik." 
 Bentham's error, he says, is the supposition that there is a perfect harmony 
 among the egotistic interests of all individuals, if they are but clear concern- 
 ing their own interests.
 
 56 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 lives ; modern Utilitarianism recognizes the necessity 
 of admitting non-egotistic motives. Not the happi- 
 ness of the individual is maintained to be the aim of 
 ethics, but the greatest happiness of the greatest num- 
 ber. This step, however, is inconsistent with Ben- 
 tham's principle and overthrows the whole system. It 
 is a surrender of the cardinal point of egotistic ethics. 
 The weakness of intuitionalists is their despair of 
 ever explaining the natural origin and meaning of 
 moral motives. They are so overawed by a reverent 
 admiration of the presence of super-individual mo- 
 tives, that they bow down in the dust and worship 
 the unknown power which they suppose to be the 
 originator of these motives. The weakness of the 
 Utilitarians is their denial of the possible existence of 
 super-individual motives ; they argued that all our 
 motives, being parts of our own personalit}', must be 
 egotistic. And yet the non-egotistic, the super-indi- 
 vidual motives, the impulses that urge us to obey a 
 higher law than self-interest, are indubitable facts of 
 soul-life. However, though they are super-individual, 
 they are not supernatural, as is claimed by intuition- 
 alists. The relations of man with his surroundings 
 and with his fellowmen establish so many connections 
 which, like invisible threads, powerfully pull on man's 
 mind and set the springs of his action free, in which 
 he recognizes the representation of a higher interest 
 and a greater concern than his pleasures and individ- 
 ual v/elfare.
 
 THE rilEOKlES OF ETHICS. 57 
 
 Now we may consider as correct the view of the in- 
 tuitionaHsts, if their theory is interpreted to mean that 
 ethics must be based upon the study of the human 
 soul ; there we find a moral instinct that teaches man 
 to be guided by higher motives than those of egotism. 
 At the same time we may side with their adversaries, 
 when we construe their ethics in the sense that the 
 moral motives can in so far be called egotistic, as they 
 are actual parts of our soul. Moral motives are of a 
 natural growth, and their origin can by scientific in- 
 vestigation satisfactorily be accounted for. However, 
 we must emphatically object on the one hand to the 
 mystic element that attaches to intuitionalism, and on 
 the other to the identification of pleasure with the idea 
 of moral goodness that is unwarrantably introduced by 
 Utilitarianism. 
 
 It is true that the good is always useful, but we 
 cannot invert the sentence and say the useful is al- 
 ways good. Blue is always a color, but not every color 
 is blue. Utilitarians are right in saying that every act 
 which is morally good, must be useful. Moral acts 
 are not always useful to him who does them, but 
 they are always useful either to society, to our coun- 
 try, or to humanity in general, in promoting the wel- 
 fare, the power, the nobility, the ideal of human soul- 
 life. But Utilitarians are mistaken if they make utility 
 the standard of measurement for that which must be 
 called good. 
 
 There are acts which under certain circumstances
 
 58 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 may be productive of good, if good means pleasur- 
 able to individuals. Take for instance the well- 
 known Broadway street-railway case. It is unde- 
 niable that the enterprise of running horse-cars on 
 Broadway in Nevv^ York is useful not only to the 
 company who undertook the work, but also to society. 
 Franchises, according to a law of New York, which 
 has been altered since then, must be given by twenty- 
 four aldermen. Now there were some doubts, not con- 
 cerning the usefulness of the enterprise, but whether 
 another proposal by some other company to lay the 
 tracks of the railway through another street might not 
 be preferable, and there m.ay have been still more 
 points of deliberation. Let us suppose that the Broad- 
 way scheme was preferable. But the manager was 
 pained by the loss of time caused through protracted 
 deliberation. He was a practical man, he wanted to 
 push matters and keep the majority of the aldermen 
 in good humor. He succeeded by sending envelopes 
 containing eighteen thousand dollars to thirteen alder- 
 men, and the franchise was speedily given. 
 
 Every act was useful to somebody, and the whole 
 scheme was useful to society also. It is true that 
 offering money was a degradation of the moral charac- 
 ter of the aldermen. But after all, they did not mind, and 
 their characters were not so pure as to suffer greatly. 
 In that direction no harm could be done. The only 
 thing that could bring harm was publicity. Now if 
 the useful were the standard of morality, the act of
 
 THE THEORIES OE ETHICS. 59 
 
 the manager ought to be condemned on account of his 
 carelessness, that he neglected the necessary precau- 
 tions to secure secrecy. 
 
 The first jury did not agree on the case and had to 
 be dismissed. This roused a storm of indignation and 
 the second jury was selected with great care. The 
 second jury brought in a verdict of guilty. 
 
 The conscience of the people at large condem.ned 
 the act ; and yet there were many opinions in favor of 
 the manager on the ground that though he had acted 
 from private interest, his enterprise had been for the 
 public benefit. The bribery was committed as a means 
 to a good end and it was rather unfortunate that it had 
 become known. 
 
 We do not decide here whether bribery is excus- 
 able in a state where honorable enterprises can pros- 
 per only by means of bribing. We only inquire whether 
 the utility of consequences constitutes the morality of 
 an act. And we answer this question in the negative. 
 
 Similar acts may happen which do not become 
 public. Who dares to defend them on the ground of 
 Utilitarianism, indeed no one does. Not even Utili- 
 tarians ! Utilitarians would, if they had to give their 
 opinion on such examples, explain that by useful, they 
 do not mean that only v/hich benefits the material in- 
 terests of men, but also that which promotes their in- 
 tellectual v/elfare and ennobles their characters. They 
 would fit the facts to their principle instead of trying 
 to find a principle that should be suited to all facts.
 
 6o THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 In order to suit the facts to the principle of utility, 
 they would limit the idea of usefulness to that which 
 we call moral goodness. 
 
 We have no objection to Utilitarians who use the 
 word "useful" in this narrow meaning. Yet we would 
 advise them to be careful lest the meaning of their 
 words be misunderstood. The average man is not 
 accustomed to use the word "useful" in the purified 
 and transfigured meaning which it has received at 
 the hands of some noble-hearted Utilitarians. The 
 average man calls useful that which affords him tan- 
 gible advantages of some kind ; and common parlance 
 distinguishes very well from useful acts those which 
 are good. Our language and the meaning of words are 
 only an expression of the instincts of our soul. Com- 
 mon parlance mirrors in this distinction between good 
 and useful, the voice of man's conscience which very 
 often impels him to acts that are not useful to him and 
 prevent him from doing what he naturally considers 
 as extremely useful. 
 
 II. 
 
 Bentham goes very far in the defense of the Utili- 
 tarian principle ; he maintains that the most abomin- 
 able pleasure of a criminal act could be justifiable if it 
 remained alone. It is to be condemned solely because 
 of the evil consequences of the pain incurred, the 
 chances of which are so great that in comparison to 
 them the pleasure of a crime is reduced to zero.
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 6i 
 
 It is very valuable for ethical teachers to know that 
 men of such extreme views as Bentham recognize 
 the overwhelming evils consequent upon immoral acts. 
 Bentham in his search after truth could not discovei 
 the sacred feelings of purely altruistic motives that 
 are often too deeply concealed in the human heart, and 
 therefore he denied their existence. The truth is, that 
 should the moral motives be lacking in their moral 
 purity, man would nevertheless be forced to act morally 
 from the mere egotistic interest of self-preservation. 
 But this is no reason for maintaining that moral acts 
 are always done from a conscious or unconscious self- 
 interest. 
 
 If Bentham's views were correct, our moral teachers 
 ought to be faithful to truth, and ought to appeal to the 
 egotism of mankind only and not to the higher motives 
 of super-individual duties. These higher motives would 
 be at best a self-delusion, and it would be immoral to 
 elicit artificial and unnatural feelings. Yet it cannot 
 be denied that an appeal to the higher duties of man 
 is always more successful than to the lower desires of 
 selfishness. The higher motives accordingly are live 
 presences in the soul of man which, for the reason that 
 they are not always patent, cannot be disregarded. 
 
 An ethical teacher ought to appeal to the highest 
 motives man is capable of. But information con- 
 cerning the futility of selfishness should at the same 
 time not be neglected. It is an important truth ; so 
 it ought not to be omitted. Every one of us should
 
 62 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 know that pure egotism always defeats its own ends. 
 The natural institutions of society are such as to make 
 the life of a man who seeks his own exclusive advan- 
 tage, unbearable and full of bitterness. And if the life 
 of an egotistic pleasure-seeker could be full of un- 
 mixed joy, the approach of death would teach us 
 to look out for something higher than the gratification 
 of our fleeting propensities. The effects of our life, 
 of all our actions whether good or evil, remain, long 
 after we have passed out of existence. The exam- 
 ples we set, the thoughts we have uttered live on 
 in the souls of our friends and our children. We 
 contribute in forming the souls of the following gen- 
 erations, and to the extent that we have done this our 
 soul-life will be preserved in theirs. A thoughtless 
 man is biased by the impressions of the fleeting mo- 
 ment ; the ethical man however bears in mind the im- 
 portance of his soul-life after death. 
 
 There are sometimes dark moments in our lives 
 when we do not know how to decide, and the decision 
 as to what is right and proper may be very difficult. 
 In such moments, we should soar above the narrow- 
 ness of the present life and look down upon our own 
 fate from the higher standpoint of eternity. Let us 
 in such moments imagine that we had died ; that we 
 are no more, and that our lives have long been ended. 
 While our bodies rest in the grave, our deeds, our 
 thoughts, our words continue to influence humanity. 
 The idea of eternal rest will calm our passions and
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 63 
 
 soothe our anxieties. When such peace comes over 
 our soul, then let us confess unto ourselves what we 
 wish we had done while alive. From this standpoint 
 we shall best be able to silence the tumultuous desires 
 of the moment and let our nobler self come to the 
 
 front. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Ethics is a practical science, and we must never 
 lose sight of its aim, which is to give man motives for 
 doing right. Should we now tell people that the old 
 ideas of ''right and wrong" are merely vague notions 
 of what is " useful and obnoxious " ? Should we tell 
 them that they must be guided by what they would, ac- 
 cording to their very best knowledge, consider as most 
 useful ? I believe that ethical teachers will not be in- 
 clined to throw so lightly overboard the most valuable 
 ideal of mankind, or to barter moral goodness for 
 material goodness ; for what is "the useful" but ma- 
 terial goodness ? 
 
 The Utilitarian makes moral goodness a sub- 
 division of general goodness. By goodness he under- 
 stands the quality of being adapted to some end. A 
 good apple is adapted for serving as food, a good knife 
 is adapted for cutting ; so the actions of man are de- 
 clared to be good if they are adapted to increase the 
 happiness of the greatest number. 
 
 A moral teacher will not take so easily to Utili- 
 tarianism, because it slurs over the difference between 
 moral goodness and material usefulness. He will
 
 64 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 rather point out, that there may be conflicts between 
 moral goodness and usefulness ; and if such conflicts 
 happen to take place in our soul, if a lie, according to 
 our best knowledge, promises to be more useful than 
 the truth, he will help us and advise us not to do 
 what appears as useful to our, and perhaps also to 
 other people's, material comfort and well-being, but to 
 prefer that which is useful for increasing the health 
 and nobility of our soul. 
 
 If ethics is based on facts, and applied to facts, it 
 will recognize as a basic principle the search for truth 
 and the adaptation to truth. Facts are the data of 
 reality with which we have to deal in our experience. 
 Truth is a correct representation of facts in our mind. 
 An honest search for truth is the condition of all ethics, 
 and being faithful to truth includes all the various 
 moral commands, which a system of ethics can contain. 
 
 So long as we are honest disciples of truth, we have 
 a good guide to lead us. We may go astray, we may 
 make mistakes, yet we shall never be so completely 
 lost, as to be unable to rectify our course of action. 
 With the love of truth as our source of inspiration, 
 and the desire to remain in accord with truth, we may 
 often find occasion to regret not having had more com- 
 plete knowledge, but we shall never be in the plight 
 of self-condemnation. 
 
 The principle of truthfulness is a far more definite 
 and correct basis of ethics than the principle of utility.
 
 rilE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 65 
 
 III. 
 
 Those who did not feel inclined to accept the super- 
 naturalistic theory of ethics, felt that an analysis of 
 the ethical motives ought to be the first step in the 
 foundation of ethics on a natural basis. The intention 
 was good, yet the execution was made on the hypoth- 
 esis that egotistic motives are natural, altruistic 
 motives unnatural. It was supposed that feelings 
 of pleasure are desirable, they are eagerly sought for 
 by all creatures, and feelings of pain are not desirable, 
 they are avoided by all creatures. It is a fact, how- 
 ever, that some pleasurable acts have very painful 
 consequences ; and some painful acts have pleasure- 
 able consequences. Accordingly, some philosophers 
 proposed as an explanation of moral actions the theory 
 that men are always guided by motives seeking pleasure 
 and shunning pain. Ethics, they said, is and ought 
 to be based on a calculation of what will in the end be 
 most pleasurable. 
 
 This theory is called Hedonism. It explains the 
 sacrifices that one man brings to relieve others of 
 pain on the supposition that the idea of relieving his 
 fellow-beings of pain gives him so much pleasure as 
 to fully overbalance the pains he suffers. This may, 
 occasionally, be true, although it need not be true. 
 The explanation is inadequate, for it is certain that 
 there are cases in which the pleasurable emotion that 
 accompanies such noble ideas is not the motive of
 
 66 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 the act. If a feeling of pleasure accompanies a noble 
 act of painful sacrifice, it is an unexpected enjoyment, 
 an incidental effect, but it zuas not the purpose for which 
 the act was performed. Thus the explanation explains 
 nothing. 
 
 * * 
 
 It is possible that those who believe in a future 
 life in Heaven where they expect to be rewarded for 
 their virtues exercised here upon earth, maybe guided 
 by the motive that the future joy is preferable to the 
 present pain. This motive might account for the 
 firmness of Johannes Huss ; although it seems to me, 
 that it does not sufficiently account for it. But 
 how can we explain the martyrdom of unbelievers, 
 who, like Giordano Bruno, suffer a painful death for 
 their convictions without any possible expectation of 
 pleasurable returns. Giordano Bruno could by no 
 means expect that future ages would pay homage to 
 him as a mart5'r of free thought. His death was by 
 no means a great event in his time ; it excited little or 
 no comment, and no one, with the exception of a few 
 isolated savants, had sympathy with him. It is bej'ond 
 dispute, that no consideration of pleasure or pain en- 
 tered into his mind, but simply love of truth irrespect- 
 ive of any consequence. Adolf Lasson says in the 
 introduction to Bruno's essay on "The Cause, the 
 Principle and the One " : 
 
 "Bruno had a profoundly pious heart, full of enthusiasm for 
 every thing holy. He had in all his adventures not freed himself
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 67 
 
 from his attachment to the faith of his childhood, and from the 
 reverence for the authority he had long respected. So long as his 
 religious sentiment was appealed to. he was ready to yield. Yet 
 his judges, according to the usual method of inquisitors, attempted 
 to persuade him of his errors by scientific arguments, and hoped 
 so to force him to recant. But he did not find himself refuted, 
 and he could not abjure his philosophy without renouncing truth. 
 Thus he deluded himself and his judges for some time with the 
 false hope of being able to recant ; he demanded again and again 
 new respites for deliberation. 
 
 ' ' What tortures this once so serene and self-confident man must 
 have suffered in this deep and inner struggle, deserted by all the 
 world and alone in the hands of his jailors " 
 
 ' ' The year in which Bruno was burned (Febr. gth, 1600), was a 
 jubilee year. Millions of pilgrims visited Rome, but there was 
 no one among them who had sympathy with his lamentable death. 
 The only person from whose venomous and heinous report we 
 know some particulars about the history of Giordano Bruno's 
 death, is that spiteful Scioppius, called canis grammaticus , a prot- 
 estant renegade." 
 
 * * 
 
 Hedonist philosophers, in their eagerness to lay a 
 natural basis for ethics, overlook several points of great 
 importance. Above all they overlook the fact that the 
 data of ethics are not isolated feelings, but a com- 
 plex of feelings, bearing upon the relations in which 
 man stands to the world and to his fellow beings. 
 
 Bentham speaks of pleasurable feelings as being 
 always good so long as they remain isolated and un- 
 connected with evil consequences. This betrays a 
 fundamental misunderstanding as to the nature of 
 ethics. Single and isolated feelings are the data of
 
 68 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 reflex actions, but they cannot constitute any basis of 
 ethics. The feelings we have, are different in inten- 
 sity, degree, and kind, and all together in their total- 
 ity form our life. Because they are different, we must 
 have a criterion by which to judge them. We main- 
 tain that there is a criterion which does not depend 
 upon whether they are pleasurable or painful. It is 
 this criterion of ethics which enables us to gauge their 
 moral worth. The data of ethics are motives of ac- 
 tion, and the object of ethics is to find a standard by 
 which to estimate these motives. 
 
 It is a mistake to make pleasure and pain the 
 standard of moral estimation. And indeed ethics have 
 been invented in order to counterbalance the power 
 of the many motives that allure man to immoral acts. 
 If there were no principle above the feelings of pleas- 
 ure and pain according to which we must regulate our 
 actions, we ought to say that the ideal of ethics is an 
 impossibilit}^ For ethics introduces a criterion for 
 judging about the worth of motives irrespective of the 
 feelings of pleasure and pain that may accompany 
 the intended actions of these motives. 
 
 The answer of Hedonists to these objections as a 
 rule consists in complaints of being misunderstood. 
 They maintain, that not the intensity and quantity of 
 pleasure has to be considered, but the the kind and 
 nature of the pleasure only. The nobler and higher 
 kinds of pleasure are preferable to the lower kinds. 
 Very well ! If the quality of the pleasure is that which
 
 THE THEORIES OE ETHICS. 69 
 
 makes its value, we must consider the standard with 
 which this "quahty '' is to be determined as the crite- 
 rion of ethics, but not the pleasure itself. The pleasure 
 might be exceedingly great or small, if its quality 
 be such as to range high according to the ethical 
 Standard it would outweigh the greatest quantities and 
 intensities of lower pleasures. And if the accompany- 
 ing pleasure were absent altogether, would that not 
 leave the action just as moral ? 
 
 The duty of ethics accordingly would be to de- 
 termine the nature of that higher quality of human 
 motives and make it so strong that it will overrule in 
 our hearts all fear of pain and desire for pleasure. 
 
 An anecdote is told about a little village urchin who 
 was dressed in black for attending a funeral. The boy 
 wanted to wear his red jacket and weepingly said : " If 
 I can't wear my red jacket, the whole funeral will give 
 me no pleasure." How childish is this expression, 
 and it would be barbarously rude if a man who knows 
 the seriousness of the occasion could think in 
 this way. Will Hedonists be ridiculous enough to 
 maintain that the boy ought to wear black, because 
 that color being more appropriate ought to give him 
 a higher kind of pleasure? 
 
 Any normal man would be shocked at himself, if 
 under solemn and grave circumstances, he should dis- 
 cover himself regulating his actions according to 
 the principle of gaining more or less pleasure. Nay, 
 even the consideration of a higher kind of pleasure in
 
 70 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 cases where no pleasure at all is involved, would be 
 incompatible with true morality. 
 
 Hedonism, accordingly, would be correct only if 
 we understand by pleasure that attitude of independ- 
 ence and self control which raises man above pleasures 
 and pains. 
 
 In addition to all these objections, we have to re- 
 mark that pleasure and pain are by no means simple 
 and definite feelings so that they could be employed 
 as a standard for an objective estimate of action. 
 That which gives happiness being different according 
 to age, tem^perament, hereditary character, and habits, 
 the plan to make happiness the aim of life has no 
 meaning. A pleasure to one person is very often an 
 abomination to another. One man finds his happiness 
 in natural, and another in unnatural enjoyments. One 
 man is pleased with a rational use of his energies, 
 while another delights in follies or even in vices. We 
 can educate men to find pleasure in war or in peace- 
 ful pursuits, in intoxication or in sobriety, in smoking 
 or chewing, in fishing or swimming, in playing mis- 
 chievous tricks or in performing noble deeds. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 Pleasure has erroneously been identified with 
 growth, and pain with decay. If that were so, child- 
 bearing ought to be the greatest pleasure ; and death 
 the greatest pain. But it is a fact that all growth 
 produces disturbances, and thus in m^ost cases it causes 
 pain. Teething is a growth, but it gives no pleasure
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 71 
 
 to babes. Death in itself, however, is no pain \ only 
 the resistance of man's vitality against the decay of 
 death is painful. The struggle of death being over 
 there is no pain, but a peaceful fading away of con- 
 sciousness. Death in itself is no more painful than 
 sleep. 
 
 The fact is, that pleasures consist always in the 
 satisfaction of wants, and wants are either natural or 
 artificial. If our nature has become accustomed to cer- 
 tain wants, the amount of pleasure in satisfying them 
 depends upon the intensity of the wants. Pains are either 
 wants unsatisfied or other disturbances that are per- 
 ceived by consciousness. Growth as well as decay may 
 produce disturbances, both accordingly can become 
 causes of pain. If then the greatest amount of pleasure 
 were to be considered the purpose of life, we ought 
 to educate ourselves to such wants as are noble and 
 elevating, such as widen the range of our soul-life, and 
 make man greater, kinder, and more powerful. In that 
 case, however, not the sum or the amount of pleasure 
 would have to be considered as ethical, but the kind 
 of pleasure. Before we make happiness the aim of 
 life, we must let ethics so educate us that the most 
 imperative want of our soul will be the performance 
 of our duties. 
 
 * * 
 
 Man has a natural desire for activity. This desire 
 is natural because man is a living machine freighted 
 with vital energy ; the desire to use this energy is ever
 
 72 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 present. In case man does not spend his energy in 
 useful work, his natural want for activity will compel 
 him to do something, never mind what. To a man 
 who has or who knows of no duties, the motives which 
 promise to give him pleasure will become the strongest; 
 they will direct his energies, as it were, in the line of 
 least resistance. Hence rises the so-called natural 
 desire for pleasure. But this so-called natural desire 
 for pleasure is the greatest danger for a man. And 
 wherever we investigate the methods of progress 
 we shall find that it is far from taking place in the line 
 of least resistance. On the contrary almost every pro- 
 gress leads in the line of greatest resistance. The 
 development in the line of least resistance leads to in- 
 evitable ruin. 
 
 Hence it follows that the greatest blessing for a 
 man is to have duties which coerce him to perform 
 some useful work. Rich people who, without becom- 
 ing exactly criminal, can allow themselves to let their 
 action follow the line of least resistance, are in a most 
 dangerous plight. " How hardly shall they that have 
 riches," attain a normal, not to say a strong, devel- 
 opment of their souls ! Those that are rich, that can 
 hve well, that can live for the sake of enjoying life, 
 should for the sake of their own soul-life impose upon 
 themselves heavy duties, as heavy as they can bear. 
 They should educate their children so that they feel 
 unhappy unless they have great duties to perform. 
 The moral worth of a man does not depend upon the
 
 THE THEORIES OE ETllJCS. 73 
 
 amount of pleasure he provides for himself and others, 
 
 but upon the amount and scope and weight of duty 
 
 he is able to carry. 
 
 * * 
 
 We have made a brief survey of the most important 
 
 issues between the old religious and the irreligious 
 conceptions of ethics, between the moral views of the 
 believer and those of the unbeliever. We have seen 
 that the unbeliever was right in the one main point 
 which induced him to criticise and overthrow the 
 old system of ethics. His attempts to base ethics 
 upon a natural basis are justifiable, yet the believer was 
 right upon the whole in all single points of dispute as 
 regards the substance of ethical injunctions. 
 
 It is perhaps natural that the dogmatic moralist 
 with all the traditional experience of past ages in his 
 favor should have arrived at the truth so far as the prac- 
 tical execution of ethics is concerned. All the differ- 
 ent theories which were invented to deny the properly 
 ethical spirit of super-individual motves in morality are 
 exploded. We have to recognize the fact that there are 
 motives active in the soul of man, higher, greater and 
 nobler than egoistic desires. Yet although the moral 
 motives are to be recognized as super-individual factors 
 of man's soul-life, they are by no means supernatural. 
 
 IV. 
 
 All religions are systems of ethics; and ethics by 
 the very fact that it teaches man how to regulate his
 
 74 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 conduct is a religion. Every religion comes, or pre- 
 tends to come, as a salvation. It throws light upon 
 the world around us in which we live and thus it aids 
 us in our endeavors to escape from the miseries caused 
 by our ignorance and folly. 
 
 The religion of science like all other religions comes 
 to the rescue of man. It is true that the truths of sci- 
 ence appear at first sight to be destructive. They 
 destroy the illusions of a childish faith which has 
 become dear to us. But truth, be it ever so sad, is the 
 only means that can cure the ills of life. If there is 
 any salvation it must be gained by truth and by 
 boldly facing the truth. If truth cannot help, nothing 
 can, nothing will help. A salvation by illusions is 
 like the joy of intoxication. It is neither lasting nor 
 is it wholesome, and when it is gone it will leave us 
 sadder than before. Instead of helping, it will harm. 
 
 Among all the philosophies with which I became 
 acquainted, there is one that at a certain period of my 
 life attracted me most powerfully; it is that of Arthur 
 Schopenhauer, the great pessimist. Schopenhauer 
 describes the misery of life in most vivid colors, and 
 what makes him so impressive, is that he does it 
 without exaggeration. He says : 
 
 " Having awakened to life from the night of unconsciousness, 
 the will finds itself as an individual in an endless and boundless 
 world among innumerable individuals, all striving, suffering, erring; 
 and as though passing through an ominous, uneasy dream, it hur- 
 ries back to the old unconsciousness. Until then, however, its da-
 
 rilE THEORIES OF ETJIICS. 75 
 
 sires are boundless, its claims inexhaustible, and every satisfied 
 wish begets a new one. No satisfaction possible in the world could 
 suffice to still its longings, put a final end to its cravings, and fill 
 the bottomless abyss of its heart. Consider, too, what gratifica- 
 tions of every kind man generally receives : they are usually nothing 
 more than the meagre preservation of this existence itself, daily 
 gained by incessant toil and constant care, in battle against want, 
 with death forever in the van. Everything in life indicates that 
 earthly happiness is destined to be frustrated or to be recognized 
 as an illusion. The conditions of this lie deep in the nature of 
 things. Accordingly, the life of most of us proves sad and short. 
 The comparatively happy are usually only apparently so, or are, 
 like long-lived persons, rare exceptions — left as a bait for the rest. 
 " Life proves a continued deception, in great as well as small 
 matters. If it makes a promise, it does not keep it, unless to show 
 that the coveted object was little desirable. Thus sometimes hope, 
 sometimes the fulfilment of hope, deludes us. If it gave, it was 
 but to take away. The fascination of distance presents a paradise, 
 vanishing like an optic delusion when we have allowed ourselves 
 to be enticed thither. Happiness accordingly lies always in the 
 future or in the past ; and the present is to be compared to a small 
 dark cloud which the wind drives over a sunny plain. Before it 
 and behind it all is bright, it alone casts a shadow. The present 
 therefore is forever unsatisfactory; the future uncertain ; the past 
 irrecoverable. Life with its hourly, daily, weekly, and yearly 
 small, greater, and great adversities, with its disappointed hopes 
 and mishaps foiling all calculation, bears so plainly the character 
 of something we should become disgusted with, that it is difficult 
 to comprehend how any one could have mistaken this and been 
 persuaded that life was to be thankfully enjoyed, and man was des- 
 tined to be happy. On the contrary the everlasting delusion and 
 disappointment as well as the constitution of life throughout, 
 appear as though they were intended and calculated to awaken the 
 conviction that nothing whatever is worthy of our striving, driving,
 
 76 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 and wrestling, — that all goods are naught, the world bankrupt at 
 all ends, and life a business that does not pay expenses, — so that 
 our will may turn away from it. 
 
 "The manner in which this vanity of all objects of the will 
 reveals itself, is, in the first place, time. Time is the form by 
 means of which the vanity of things appears as transitoriness ; 
 since through time all our enjoyments and pleasures come to 
 naught ; and we afterward ask in astonishment what has become 
 oi" them. Accordingly our life resembles a payment which we re- 
 ceive in copper pence, and which at last we must receipt. The 
 pence are the days, death the receipt. For at last, time proclaims 
 the sentence of nature's judgment upon the worth of all beings by 
 destroying them. 
 
 ' And justly so ; for all things from the void 
 Called forth, deserve to be destroyed. 
 T'were better, then, were naught created.'— (7<7f/A*. 
 
 ' ' Age and death, to which every life necessarily hurries, are the 
 sentence of condemnation upon the will to live, passed by nature 
 herself, which declares that this will is a striving that must frus- 
 trate itself. 'What thou hast willed,' it says, ' ends thus ; will 
 something better ! ' 
 
 " The lessons which each one learns from his lifecconsist, on 
 the whole, in this, that the objects of his wishes constantly delude, 
 shake, and fall ; consequently they bring more torment than pleas- 
 ure, until at length even the whole ground upon which they all 
 stand gives way, inasmuch as his life itself is annihilated. Thus 
 be receives the last confirmation that all his striving and willing 
 were a blunder and an error. 
 
 ' Then old age and experience, hand in hand. 
 Lead him to death, and make him understand. 
 After a search so painful and so long 
 That all his life he has been in the wrong. 
 
 ' ' Whatever may be said to the contrary, the happiest moment 
 of the happiest mortal is still the moment he falls asleep, as the
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 77 
 
 unhappiest moment of the unhappiest mortal the moment he 
 awakens. 
 
 " Lord Byron says : 
 
 ' Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen, 
 Count o'er thy days from anguish free, 
 And know, whatever thou hast been, 
 'Tis something better not to be.' " * 
 
 " It is indeed incredible how stale and empty are the fates of 
 most people, how dull and heedless are all their feelings and 
 thoughts. Their lives consist of flabby longing, and pining of 
 dreamy reeling through the seven ages to death, and this is ac- 
 companied with a number of trivial thoughts. They are like 
 clocks wound up to go and do not know why. Each time when a 
 man is born the clock is wound up again to play off the same hack- 
 neyed tune, bar for bar, measure for measure, with unimportant 
 variations."! 
 
 Yet is there not some hope that in the course of 
 evolution humanity may attain a state of perfect ad- 
 justment, so that every man can enjoy undisturbed hap- 
 piness ? Even that hope is a flattering illusion of op- 
 timistic thinkers ; it can never be fulfilled. Our wants 
 are unlimited, and happiness depends upon the satis- 
 faction of our wants. Happiness, accordingly, is rela- 
 tive, and Schopenhauer justly likens it to a fraction, 
 the denominator of which represents our desires and 
 the numerator their gratifications. Every progress 
 allows the increase of both. 
 
 Schopenhauer's pessimism is not exaggerated. His 
 dreary description of life is a faithful portrayal of the 
 facts of reality as they must appear from the standpoint 
 
 ♦ Schopenhauer, W. a. W. u. V., Vol. II, Chap. 4O. 
 t Ibid., W. a. W. u. V., Vol. I, p. 379.
 
 78 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of egotism. The man who seeks exclusively his own, will 
 be disappointed wherever he goes. His very pleasures 
 turn either into gall or the disgust of satiety. If the 
 satisfaction of desires is recognized as the supreme 
 and only purpose of life, man will in the most fortunate 
 case, if Mephistopheles gives him the opportunity of 
 unlimited enjoyment, exclaim with Faust : 
 
 " Thus in desire I hasten to enjoy, 
 And in enjoyment, pine to feel desire." 
 
 A man who, like Faust, can satisfy all his desires, 
 is truly in the hands of Satan, as Goethe in his great 
 philosophical allegory demonstrates. Only a strong 
 character, as is Faust, who yearns for a higher life can 
 overcome all the temptations. He tastes of the plea- 
 sures of life and finds them shallow. There is no sat- 
 isfaction for the longing of his soul in any one of them. 
 Yet as soon as Faust abandons the standpoint of ego- 
 tism, he finds a satisfaction which he had never ex- 
 pected. He forgets the impetuous desire for pleas- 
 ures in a great work that he undertakes for human- 
 ity. He finds that satisfaction lies not in the aim 
 solely, but in the effort to reach the aim ; not in lib- 
 erty, but in attaining and deserving liberty ; not in the 
 harmonious enjoyment of life, but in being the master 
 of one's fate, in building one's own life and making it 
 harmonious : 
 
 " Yes ! To this thought I hold with firm persistence ; 
 The last result of wisdom stamps it true : 
 He only earns his freedom and existence, 
 Who daily conquers them anew."
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 79 
 
 Faust has become too old to enjoy the fruits of his labor 
 himself, but he feels eternity breathing through his 
 soul. His work will live after him and be a blessing 
 unto thousands : 
 
 '• The traces cannot of mine earthly being 
 In aeons perish, — they are there I — 
 In proud forefeeling of such lofty bliss, 
 I now enjoy tlie highest moment, — this I " 
 
 Faust had pledged his life to Mephistopheles as 
 soon as he should enjoy a moment of satisfaction. The 
 moment is come and Faust dies. But that which 
 gave him this satisfaction was none of Satan's gifts. 
 It was none of the pleasures of egotism. It was a 
 higher kind of pleasure which has nothing in common 
 with that which is generally called pleasure. For it 
 is a satisfaction of the powerful super-individual yearn- 
 ings of the soul. And this is the only happiness that 
 man can attain. 
 
 Mr. Herbert Spencer builds his system of ethics 
 upon the supposition that " conduciveness to hap- 
 piness is the ultimate test of perfection in a man's 
 nature." He quotes Aristotle's view, that the proper 
 work of man " consists in the active exercise of the 
 mental capacities conformably to reason," and that 
 "the supreme good of man will consist in performing 
 this work with excellence or virtue ; herein he will 
 obtain happiness." Mr. Spencer blames Aristotle for 
 "seeking to define happiness in terms of virtue in- 
 stead of defining virtue in terms of happiness," and he
 
 8o THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 seriously attempts to justify the opinion, that if im- 
 moral acts caused agreeable sensations, we would not 
 call them crimes. 
 
 There is a great difference between pleasures and 
 the peace of soul that a good conscience alone can 
 give. Mr. Spencer classes both as "pleasurable sen- 
 sations" and makes them the test of ethics. The 
 happiness of which Aristotle speaks consists in the 
 satisfaction of having done one's duty, which has 
 nothing in common with any ''pleasurable sensa- 
 tion " ; for it is no sensation and has as little to do 
 with sense-activity as for instance has our satisfaction 
 at the correctness of a logical judgment. Mr. Spen- 
 cer might with the very same arguments he uses for 
 his theory of ethics, declare that the ultimate test of 
 logical truth is its ''conduciveness to happiness." 
 Those logical arguments, he might say, which cause 
 pleasurable sensations are correct, those which have 
 pain-giving effects are incorrect ; and the same holds 
 good for all the departments of human activity and 
 the truths of scientific inquiry. But who would main- 
 tain that the solution of a mathematical problem is 
 right in so far and because it gives pleasure to him 
 who has solved it ? I know of circle squarers who 
 derive a greater satisfaction from their most ridicu- 
 lous blunders than any discoverer or inventor possibly 
 can attain by most important and useful discoveries. 
 Yet a moral act, we are told, is good solely because 
 and in so far as it produces pleasurable sensations.
 
 THE TIIhy..UES OF ETHICS. 8i 
 
 Gcethe who, like Aristotle, defines happiness in 
 terms of virtue, objects most strongly against any other 
 kind of happiness. In the second part of Faust the 
 young emperor is described not as vicious, but as a 
 man desirous to enjoy himself ; and Faust pronounces 
 a very severe judgment about a tendency of finding 
 virtue in happiness instead of happiness in virtue. 
 He says : 
 
 Enjoyment makes us gross, 
 Geniessen tnacht gemein. 
 
 If pleasurable sensations were the standard ac- 
 cording to which we have to gauge the ethical worth 
 of actions, they would form the quintessence of ethics 
 and a saying like that of Goethe's would be extremely 
 immoral. Yet it is not so ! Is there any one who 
 denies that enjoyment and the hankering after enjoy- 
 ment weaken the character ? To measure the ethical 
 worth of actions by pleasurable sensations is not su- 
 perficial ; it is radically erroneous . We might just as 
 well let the judge give his decisions in court according 
 to the principle that his sentence must produce a sur- 
 plus of pleasurable feelings in all the parties concerned. 
 
 Nature has not intended man to live for the mere 
 enjoyment of life. All egotism will in the end defeat 
 itself. Man's life has a meaning only if he lives the 
 higher life of super-individual aspirations. The indi- 
 vidual must cease to consider himself as an individual ; 
 he must consider himself as a steward of the soul-life 
 of mankind.
 
 82 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Every one of us has at his birth and through his 
 education received a rich and most valuable inheri- 
 tance from his fathers, and it stands in every one's 
 power to increase the spiritual treasure of human soul- 
 life which he has received. The question, Is life worth 
 living, accordingly, depends exclusively on the pur- 
 pose to which life is devoted. Life is not worth living 
 if a man seeks his own, if he uses his rich inheritance 
 like the prodigal son and wastes his substance to get 
 as much pleasure as possible out of the treasures that 
 his fathers have gathered. However, life is worth 
 living if but the aim of life is high enough to give 
 value to the work of life. 
 
 Pessimism has taught that life from the standpoint 
 of a pleasure-seeker has no value ; if we expect a sat- 
 isfaction of our egotistic desires, life will not be worth 
 its own troubles. Life can acquire value only by the 
 use to which it is put. If our days are empty of any 
 action worthy to be done, then they are indeed spent 
 as a tale that is told, although they may be four-score 
 years or more. Our actions only can and must give 
 value to the days of our life. Yet is their strength 
 labor and sorrow ; for a life worth being lived is one 
 that is full of active aspirations for something better 
 and higher.* 
 
 * The ethics here presented I have called in former publications of mine, 
 "Meliorism." The word Meliorism has been used by some authors as a modi- 
 fied optimism, as something that is midway between optimism and pessi- 
 mism. By other authors the same term has been employed in the sense that 
 humanity though at present not in a state of happiness, will nevertheless
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 83 
 
 The ethical hfe accordingly affords indeed the only 
 salvation for man, and the old religions have been re- 
 ligions of salvation to the extent that they have helped 
 man to raise himself above his egotism. The old re- 
 ligions are not wrong ; they contain all of them this 
 all-important truth. Yet the truth is wrapped in 
 mythb ; and the time has come that we are no longer 
 satisfied with myths. The apostle says : 
 
 "When I was a child I spake as a child, I understood as a 
 child, I thought as a child, but when I became a man, I put away 
 childish things." 
 
 Mankind has passed through the phase of child- 
 hood in which it could be taught only by myths and 
 parables. As says St. Paul : 
 
 " And I, brethren, could not speak unto you as unto spiritual, 
 but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ. 
 
 " I have fed you with milk, and not with meat : for hitherto ye 
 were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able. " 
 
 We do not intend to abolish the truth of the old 
 religions, but to purify them from their mythological 
 character. We do not come to destroy, but to fulfil. 
 Therefore, the solution of the ethical problem in the 
 sense indicated, will not endanger, but will revive 
 church life. It will make all things new. 
 
 reach by and by such an existence, in which all miseries will be impossible. 
 The Meliorism here proposed fully accepts the truth of pessimism, that life 
 is not worth its own troubles if we live merely for the enjoyment of life. 
 Meliorism places the value of life in ideals that transcend the narrow limits 
 of individual existence. The greater, the stronger, the more earnest are the 
 ideals that animate the soul of a man, the more valuable will be his life and 
 the more will bis life be worth living.
 
 84 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 The ethical movement thus cannot help bringing 
 us a new religion. And the new religion of ethics will 
 not be a new creed as are the old dogmatic religions, 
 but a religion of facts, a religion of science. 
 
 The creeds of old are crumbling ; 
 
 And were their revelation 
 The only hope in living, 
 
 Life would be desolation. 
 But lo ! a new religion 
 
 Bursts from the germs decaying ; 
 A new faith in our bosoms 
 
 Is growing, light-displaying 
 
 Great truths with broader outlook 
 
 New missions have created. 
 By purified Religion 
 
 Our souls are elevated. 
 New aims, new hopes, new doctrines, 
 
 Old prophecies fulfilling ! 
 And through our hearts is rapture 
 
 Of progress warmly thrilling. 
 
 We do not combat freedom 
 
 Of art, nor that of science. 
 Nay, both with our religion 
 
 Are joined in firm alliance. 
 Though high, our aspiration 
 
 Is yet concrete and real. 
 To render life more noble 
 
 Is our sublime ideal. 
 
 Of this denomination 
 
 Are they, in life's confusion. 
 Who further human progress
 
 THE THEORIES OF ETHICS. 85 
 
 And sweep away illusion ; 
 Who have ideals dearer 
 
 Than self and self-existence, 
 And love them, although knowing 
 
 Their vast, enoraious distance. 
 
 Thinkers who muse and ponder. 
 
 Instructors theoretic ; 
 And poets whose ideas 
 
 Are radiantly prophetic; 
 The warrior, who for Freedom 
 
 Fights and for Freedom dieth ; 
 The great, whose noble fortune 
 
 With their souls' greatness vieth ; 
 
 The hand which with heart's trouble 
 
 For wife and children toileth ; 
 The man who doth his duty 
 
 E'en if his fate him foileth ; 
 And he who kindly comforts 
 
 The sick, who gladly shareth 
 His bread with his poor neighbor. 
 
 Our badge and symbol beareth.
 
 DR. CARUS ON "THE ETHICAL PROBLEM." 
 
 BY W. M. SALTER. 
 
 The capital point under discussion in this little 
 volume is the basis of ethics. Dr. Carus is mistaken 
 in saying in the Preface that it was in consequence of 
 an editorial on "The Basis of Ethics and the Ethical 
 Movement" in The Open Court, that he was invited to 
 deliver these lectures. It was at my suggestion that 
 the Board of Trustees of the Chicago Society for 
 Ethical Culture extended to him the invitation, and 
 my feeling simply was that so interesting a set of phi- 
 losophical ideas as Dr. Carus was advancing in The 
 Open Court should have a hearing viva voce, as well 
 as through the printed page. Dr. Carus accepting, 
 I announced his lectures on my own concluding Sun- 
 day, asking our members and friends to give them at- 
 tention and careful consideration. Inasmuch, how- 
 ever, as Dr. Carus has taken the occasion incidentally 
 to reinforce his earlier criticism upon the Ethical 
 Movement ; to emphasize the differences (real or sup- 
 posed) between himself and those of us who are active 
 in this movement ; and indeed to take us somewhat 
 severely to task, it becomes proper and, perhaps, nec- 
 essary that I should say something by way of reply. 
 
 First, let me endeavor to understand as nearly as 
 I can what Dr. Carus means. For our Ethical Socie- 
 ties the case is a grave one, in his judgment. There 
 is something we are to do of a more pressing nature j 
 if we do not heed the call, we shall "pass out of ex-
 
 A CRITICISM BY W. M. SALTER. 87 
 
 istence." We are not to "rest satisfied with nega- 
 tions"; we should cease a " non-committal policy " ; 
 should "speak out boldly and with no uncertain 
 voice." We are reminded of our proper place ; for, 
 says Dr. Cams with something of a prophet's impres- 
 siveness, "There is one point you ought to under- 
 stand well : The ethical movement will work for the 
 progress of mankind whatever you do." Indeed he 
 gives us such a sense of our insignificance that we are 
 led to feel that more for our own sake than for the 
 cause of progress we should apply ourselves to the all- 
 important task ; since the cause of progress will be 
 served in any case. 
 
 This task is to answer the question, What is the 
 basis of ethics ? Assuming that the ethical movement 
 was started because dogmatic religion no longer serves 
 as such a basis, he asks, What new basis do we offer? 
 I confess to having had some difficulty in finding out 
 just what the author means by "basis" in this rela- 
 tion. Speaking generally, it is declared to be "the 
 philosophical foundation upon which ethics rests," and 
 so "the reason why man should regulate his actions 
 in a certain way"; it is "a philosophical view back" 
 of ethics. We get light from a concrete illustration, 
 namely, the old religion which once served as a basis, 
 the ' reason why ' being found in ' the will of God.' 
 Every religion is really, according to Dr. Carus, "a 
 conception of the world applied to practical life"; it 
 differs from philosophy simply in that such a world- 
 conception is treated practically and is endorsed by a 
 whole society (instead of single thinkers). The basis 
 of ethics thus turns out to be a certain conception of 
 the world or "theory of the universe"; it corresponds 
 to what is called philosophy or theology ; indeed, our
 
 88 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 author makes the broad statement: "The ethical 
 stimulus has been implanted into man by religion,"* 
 and he adds with sufficient vigor, "any ethics with- 
 out a philosophical view back of it is no ethics, but 
 ethical sentimentality." 
 
 What "basis of ethics" does Dr. Carus himself 
 present ? For it is not mere criticism that he offers ; 
 indeed, the criticism of the Ethical Societies is but in- 
 cidental, and the author's evident intention is to pre- 
 sent a positive solution of "the ethical problem," i. e., 
 to point out the true basis of ethics. " Religion," he 
 declares, "will remain a conception of the world that 
 serves as a regulative principle of action. Yet this con- 
 ception will cease to be the product of an instinctive 
 imagination, it will become a scientific system of cer- 
 tain truths that have to be examined and proved by 
 the usual methods of scientific enquiry" (the italics 
 are mine). What then is the scientific world-concep- 
 tion, the true basis of ethics ? I confess to having 
 been completely taken aback, when as I read on I dis- 
 covered that Dr. Carus declined to answer the ques- 
 tion, contenting himself with vaguely saying that the 
 true philosophy will be one which is in accordance 
 with facts, which seems equivalent to saying that the 
 scientific system will be a scientific system. The dif- 
 ferent philosophies are mentioned, viz., "materialism 
 and spiritualism, realism and idealism, monism and 
 agnosticism," and the author actually approves of 
 Professor Adler's proposition that an ethical move- 
 ment should not commit itself to any of them. Does 
 
 *How much foundation such a statement has as matter of history is tol- 
 erably well known to students of Sociology and Primitive Culture. I would 
 commend to every interested reader the article on "Ethics and Religion," by 
 the learned Professor C. H. Toy, of Harvard University, in the Popular Science 
 Monthly April (or May), 1890.
 
 A CRITICISM i:V W. .)/. SAI/n-.R. 89 
 
 any reader wonder that I am at a loss to know why Dr. 
 Carus should have taken the attitude to our societies 
 which he has, almost twitting us on our lack of cour- 
 age, suggesting tliat our ethics is but "ethical senti- 
 mentality," and saying that if the ethical societies do 
 not increase as they ought to, it is because they have 
 no definite opinion, because they lack a foundation, 
 trying to be broad and becoming vague (x. xi)? What 
 I had at least hoped for was an exposition of the way 
 in which the monistic world-conception would serve 
 as a basis of ethics ; for to me personally at any rate 
 and, I think, to many more this would have been of 
 considerable interest. But monism is classed along with 
 agnosticism, and materialism as one of the "thought- 
 constructions of theorizing philosophers," (16. 17); 
 so that after all the high notes, the vigorous charging 
 and counter-charging, we are left with the barren 
 dictum, "The new ethics is based upon facts, and is 
 applied to facts." Taking this into account I am 
 not at all sure that I know what Dr. Carus means by 
 a "basis of ethics," and as it is not wise to criticise till 
 one knows what he is criticising, I will forbear criti- 
 cism. I will not say that the author is not clear as to 
 what he means, but generally speaking the remark of 
 The Ethical Record which he quotes seems to have 
 foesh illustration : " We think there is some lack of 
 clearness as to what a basis of ethics means." 
 
 There are, however, two distinct questions : What 
 is the true v/orld-conception, upon which every spe- 
 cial science may, in a broad and rather loose sense, be 
 said to be based ; and secondly, what is the ultimate 
 principle in ethics itself ? The second question might 
 be more distinctly stated as follows : Not what is the 
 basis of oXSxic^, in the sense of " a philosophical view
 
 go THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 back " of it (a theology or philosophy), but what is 
 the basic principle hi ethics ? Ethics, in the popular 
 sense, being a system of rules for conduct, it is neces- 
 sary, if it is to be treated scientifically, that there 
 sihould be some supreme rule, by their agreement or 
 disagreement* with which all lesser rules should be 
 judged. Now the most charitable construction I can 
 put on Dr. Carus's method of proceedure is that he has 
 confused these two questions ; and indeed, in the last 
 two chapters of the book he more or less leaves the 
 realm of world-conceptions and devotes himself to the 
 humbler question of the standard (or what I have 
 called the supreme rule) of right action. Yet in the 
 treatment of this second question, I am sorry to say 
 that I find the author's thought more or less confused 
 and inconsistent. Ethics, it is repeatedly insisted, 
 must be based on facts ; yet in one clear-sighted pas- 
 sage he says, ''Ethics is 02ir attitude toward the facts 
 of reality" (the italics are mine). The latter remark 
 seems to imply that the same facts may be looked at 
 from different attitudes \ yet if so, how are the facts 
 themselves to decide which attitude we shall take ? It 
 is true, as Dr. Carus happily says, that "all knowledge 
 can be formulated as an ethical prescript." For ex- 
 ample, the knowledge that friction produces fire finds 
 its practical application in the ethical rule : In case 
 you want fire, produce it by friction. But the facts 
 in the case do not in the slightest determine whether 
 we shall produce fire ; we may contemplate the 
 
 *This rule, it is needless to say, would itself be interpreted or "based " in 
 terms of the world-conception or theory of the universe which one holds, just 
 as the first principles of the other sciences would be ; the theist would inter- 
 pret them in one way, the monist in another, etc.; but the first principles of 
 all special sciences qua special sciences are peculiar to themselves; otherwise 
 taken, they would be identical, i. e., be the ultimate principles or principle 
 of the universe itself.
 
 A CRITICISM BY W. M. SALTER. 91 
 
 facts with purely speculative curiosity and do noth- 
 ing, or we may have an aversion to fire and so do 
 nothing, or we may wisli fire and then we shall pro- 
 duce it by the method indicated. It is evident that 
 not all the knowledge of all the facts of the universe 
 would by itself lead to moral action, or indeed to ac- 
 tion of any kind ; so that it would be more accurate, 
 and so more clarifying to the mind, to say that ethics 
 should face, regard, or know the facts of the universe 
 rather than to say that it should be based upon them. 
 Evidently the root-question in ethics is, what should 
 we wish ? Once knowing what we wish, the know- 
 ledge of the facts and the laws of nature is valuable 
 to us ; and once knowing what we should wish, ac- 
 quaintance with such facts and laws becomes ethically 
 valuable and we have a standard for our entire con- 
 duct. It is at this point that I find Dr. Carus's views 
 radically insufficient ; indeed, his ethics seems a some- 
 thing "in the air." "//"," he says, "you wish to ex- 
 ist, obey reason, "(italics are my own). But the very 
 question is, not what or whether we wish, but what we 
 should wish ? To say, "If you wish fire, produce it 
 by friction," does not say whether we shall so produce 
 it ; to tell us, "In order to build a house, observe the 
 laws of gravitation," does not call us to observe the 
 laws of gravitation ; to say, "If you wish to exist, 
 obey reason," puts upon us no obligation to obey rea- 
 son. It is true most persons do wish to live and in 
 consistency therewith we may well say that they should 
 act in such and such a manner ; but if any one says, 
 I do not care to live, moral obligation, according to 
 this view, ceases to have any application to him. If 
 any one says, I do not care about my health, the laws 
 of health are meaningless to him ; if another says, I
 
 92 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 do not care about my family, the v/hole of family- 
 ethics loses its validity for him. It has long been 
 plain to me that resting ethics on our matter-of-fact 
 wishes or instincts is not establishing ethics, but un- 
 dermining it and leaving it a something " in the air." 
 There must be a rational consideration and rational 
 settlement of the question, What of our desires or 
 wishes or instincts have a right to rule in us? before 
 there can be any such thing as a scientific ethics. 
 Notwithstanding, however, this lack of thorough- 
 ness in Dr. Cams' s treatment of the question, his dis- 
 cussion of some of the different standards of right and 
 wrong is interesting. He defends the naturalness of 
 altruistic and social motives, against those who hold 
 that only egotistic motives are natural to man. He 
 goes too far, it appears to me, in identifying ethics 
 with the social duties, there being as much rational 
 foundation for an '' ought " in relation to one's self as 
 in relation to others. He conducts an excellent po- 
 lemic against those who would find in pleasure or 
 happiness the end of all action, though he surely does 
 an injustice to Utilitarianism in saying that ''it slurs 
 over the difference between moral goodness and ma- 
 terial usefulness." The standard of good and bad 
 which he appears to reach (after sundry physiological 
 and psychological observations) is " the development 
 of human soul-life"; whatever tends to preserve and 
 prom.ote this is good, v/hile all efforts to the contrary 
 are bad. By "soul-life" is meant the soul-life of the 
 whole race, including all its future generations. But 
 is not this rather vague ? Is not the standard an un- 
 certain one? "Soul-life," v/e are told, is made up of 
 representations of the surrounding world and of man's 
 relations thereto, and includes an increasing power
 
 A CRITICISM BY W. M. SALTER. 
 
 93 
 
 over nature along with an increasing knowledge. But 
 do we not require to know what type of soul-life we 
 shall seek to further and promote? Persons of large 
 knowledge and ample power over nature may be 
 of one kind or another : they may be modest or 
 vain, friendly or unfriendly, truthful or false, chaste 
 or licentious, public-spirited or selfish. In follov/- 
 ing the injunction to preserve and promote soul-life, 
 should we not have our minds directed to the sort 
 of soul-life that is truly desirable ? Dr. Carus does, 
 indeed, speak vaguely of *' the standard of human 
 soul-life," and elsewhere uses the expression "health 
 and nobility of our soul," but without indicating what 
 he means. The point is of importance because, as 
 the author in substance says, the effects of all our ac- 
 tions whether good or evil remain, long after we have 
 passed out of existence, because the examples we set 
 and the thoughts we utter, whether good or bad, live 
 on in the souls of our friends and our children, and the 
 motive for living for eternity, of which the author 
 makes impressive use, would seem to appeal as much 
 to the bad man who wishes to perpetuate his badness, 
 as to the good man who wishes to promote soul-life of 
 a different type. I do not say that these difficulties 
 are insuperable, and simply record my impression of 
 the author's failure to deal with them. 
 
 In still another sense of the word "basis," Dr. 
 Carus proposes the principle of truthfulness as a basis 
 of ethics. In fact, so much "Zweideutigkeit " in the 
 use of terms, I think I have rarely seen in any other 
 ostensibl}' scientific treatise. It is difficult for me to 
 understand further how Dr. Cams could proceed so 
 carelessly in treating of ethical "theories." Intui- 
 tionalism is identified with supernaturalism, and Paley
 
 94 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 on the strength of his theology is called an intuition- 
 alist, while he was in fact one of the founders of Utili- 
 tarianism. Hedonism is treated separately from Utili- 
 tarianism, although every form of Utilitarianism has 
 been hedonistic, modern utilitarianism being simply 
 universalistic hedonism. 
 
 I have spoken of two distinct questions, which Dr. 
 Carus seems to confuse ; there is a third which he 
 fails to distinguish from the others, and in the treat- 
 ment of which I am glad for his sake to say that he 
 falls into a happy inconsistency. This relates to the 
 jnotive for regulating our conduct according to the 
 standard which has been supposably discovered. It 
 is one thing to know what is the true world-theor}', 
 another to know what is the standard of right, another 
 to know the true motive for regarding that standard. 
 The position which I have always taken (and I think 
 all the other ethical lecturers have taken), is that when 
 we once really know what right is, there is no other 
 course for us but to obey it, simple reverence for the 
 right being the only true, the only moral motive. We 
 have to most carefully study what the right is, but 
 once knowing it our only attitude is (i. e., should be) 
 obedience. To ask why we should do the right is 
 meaningless, it is to go out of the moral region alto- 
 gether. Now when Dr. Carus proposes the question, 
 "Why must I feel bound by any 'right' or moral 
 law," when he says that if we demand of a man "that 
 he refrain from doing wrong and be guided by what is 
 right, we are bound to give him a reason why," he 
 seems to join with those who are not satisfied with the 
 moral motive, and after reading those remarks in the 
 opening pages of his volume, I observed with particu- 
 lar closeness the subsequent course of his argument
 
 A CRITICISM BY W. M. SALTER. 95 
 
 to see what "reason " or "why" he would give. Yet 
 he had already casually spoken of the "motive to do 
 right"; and what was my surprise and gratification 
 to find him later on speaking distinctly of the "aspir- 
 ation to live in perfect harmony with the moral law," 
 (p. 37); of the "moral motives in the moral purity," (p. 
 61); and boldly saying that "an ethical teacher ought 
 to appeal to the highest motives man is capable of," 
 (p, 61.) In fact, Dr. Carus gives no "reason why" in 
 the sense of a motive beyond the moral motive ; and 
 is well aware that so to do would be not to explain, 
 but to degrade morality. Yet if so, what necessity 
 was there for him to take such an attitude of antagon- 
 ism to us? We too are trying, in the measure of our 
 ability, to plant (or better, to develop) the moral mo- 
 tive in the souls of men. Dr. Carus said, addressing 
 the Chicago Ethical Society, "You may say it matters 
 not why a man leads a moral life, so that his life be 
 moral." This is a grotesque description of our posi- 
 tion. The motive of right conduct is what makes it 
 moral ; if that has been said once, it has been said a 
 hundred times on the Chicago platform. 
 
 To conclude then this, I fear, already too long 
 article : It is true that the ethical movement has not 
 committed itself to a particular world-theory ; it leaves 
 its members and lecturers free to adopt whatever theory 
 most approves itself to their reason; instead of setting 
 up a standard of philosophical orthodoxy as Dr. Carus 
 seems to propose (though he fails at the critical mo- 
 ment), it believes that philosophical systems should 
 have a free field and no favor and that that one should 
 survive whose claims prove the strongest in the strug- 
 gle for existence — and all within the fold of an ethical 
 fellowship, held together by community of moral aim.
 
 96 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Dr. Carus, I am sorry to see, has not outgrown the 
 sectarian principle of the churches and would appar- 
 ently give us another sect as ''exclusive" and "in- 
 tolerant" as any in the past, though (Gottlob !) it will 
 slay with the sword of the spirit and not with the arm 
 of flesh. Secondly, it is not true that the ethical lec- 
 turers have not furnished a "basis of ethics" in the 
 sense of a standard of right and wrong ; each of them 
 has done so and estimated all particular duties by their 
 relation thereto ; and although on some points of spec- 
 ulative significance all m.ay not be agreed, they are 
 sufficiently so for practical sympathy and co-opera- 
 tion — certain great duties being recognized by all 
 alike. Our highest aim is to make men autonomous 
 in their moral conduct, as indeed Dr. Carus thinks we 
 should, (p. 49,) apparently forgetting his earlier chal- 
 lenge that if we no longer believe in the supernatural 
 God, we should give account of " that God " who gives 
 us authority to preach (xii). What is more, any of 
 us may believe in the "Supernatural God," if so it 
 seems reasonable for him to do ; the movement is by 
 no means committed to Anti-Supernaturalism, as he 
 seems to think, whatever were the motives of some of 
 those active in the beginning, and it has quite another 
 reason for being than that which Dr. Carus ascribes to 
 it.* Thirdly, as to the much abused "basis" in still 
 another possible meaning, namely, of a motive for the 
 regulation of one's life, v/e have from the beginning 
 recognized the same "basis" which Dr. Carus sug- 
 gests, viz., the motive to do right, the aspiration to 
 live in perfect harmony with the moral law. 
 
 ♦That reason is stated in the concluding chapter of my Ethical Religion : 
 and still more simply and clearly and convincingly in the first two chapters 
 of Dr. Stanton Coit's just published Die Ethische Bewcgung in der Religion. 
 (Leipsic : O. R. Reislaad).
 
 MR. SALTER OX "THE ETHICAL PROBLEM." 
 
 BY DR. PAUL CARUS. 
 
 Mr. Salter thinks that I have not properly under- 
 stood the position of the leaders of the ethical move- 
 ment. But Mr. Salter's reply is good evidence that 
 I did not misunderstand them. He says: "It is 710 1 
 true that the ethical lecturers have not furnished a 
 basis of ethics in the sense of a standard of right and 
 wrong ;" and yet he takes pains to explain that by this 
 basis of ethics he understands certain ethical rules, 
 and especially the supreme ethical rule, but not the 
 reason of his ethical rules which finds expression in 
 a philosophical or religious view back of ethics. The 
 latter alone can properly be called a basis of ethics, 
 and all the ethical teachers agree that that which we 
 call the basis of ethics is not needed. They look upon 
 it as of mere speculative significance. 
 
 Mr. Salter fails to see the indispensability of a 
 philosophical or religious view back of ethics ; he 
 fails to see that it alone can give character to ethics, 
 it alone can change the instinctive moralit}^ of our 
 conscience into truly rational and self-conscious 
 ethics. 
 
 Conscience and the moral law are not so absolute 
 as Mr. Salter in his book declares them to be. Re- 
 ligion and ethics have developed : the facts of an er- 
 ring conscience as well as of the religious superstitions 
 prove that both have grown from experience. Both 
 religion and ethics have developed together ; they are 
 twins.
 
 98 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 When saying religion and ethics have grown 
 from experience, I mean that the stern facts of life 
 have taught us what desires should be suppressed 
 and what wishes should rule supreme. The facts of 
 life themselves have taught us our attitude toward 
 our surroundings ; they have taught us the moral laws. 
 
 It appears that the "moral law" has a different 
 meaning with Mr. Salter than with me. The moral 
 law, whenever I use the word, is simply a formulation 
 of the lessons taught us by experience. Moral laws 
 are — like the laws of hygiene — statements of those 
 conditions which will keep our sentiments and motives 
 in perfect health. 
 
 Mr. Salter knows no ' reason why ' for his moral law, 
 and he imagines that to give a reason why ''would be 
 not to explain but to degrade morality."* In this way 
 ethics is, in Mr. Salter's mind, inseparably intertwined 
 with mysticism. 
 
 Our intention is indeed to explain morality, and 
 here arises our conflict with the policy pursued by the 
 ethical lecturers. We consider scientific enquiry into 
 the reason why of ethics, not as a degradation, but as 
 a duty. The ethical lecturers do not acknowledge the 
 
 * Mr. Salter writes in a marginal note on the proof of this article : 
 
 "You must be aware that I use this language in another connection : viz,, 
 in speaking of the tnotive for right-doing." 
 
 I am accustomed to distinguish between motive and reason. (See Funda- 
 mental Problems, p. 80, lines 24 — 25.) Motive is the cause that effects an 
 action. A cause in the domain of human action is called motive, for it is that 
 which makes the will move. I distinguish between motive and reason, but I 
 cannot think of a motive without a reason. A motive is a cause that consists 
 of an idea, the idea acting as an irritant or stimulus upon a man, thus pro- 
 voking him to action. The contents of this idea is called reason. 
 
 1 maintain that the motive to do this or that must have a content. This 
 content is its reason. The rule ' ' do that which is right " (or the intention " I 
 wish to do that which is right ") is without practical value, unless I know what 
 is right. In order to know what is right I must ascertain it, and I can do so 
 only by enquiring after the reason why it is riglit. Thus the 'reason why' is 
 inevitable whatever standpoint we take.
 
 IN REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 99 
 
 ' reason why ' presented by orthodox theology. They are 
 therefore bound to give a new reason why. If they re- 
 fuse to do so, their whole movement is founded on sand. 
 
 It is an old experience which perhaps most of us 
 who have sought for light and endeavored to under- 
 stand our own ideals and aspirations have felt, that 
 every enthusiasm, above all religious enthusiasm, re- 
 gards science and all close scrutiny with suspicion. 
 The relentless dissections of exact analysis appear as 
 a sacrilege. 
 
 The reader will feel in Mr. Salter's reply the un- 
 easiness caused by our procedure. He invites us to 
 present our opinion,* but he resents a clear statement 
 of our differences. t This statement of our differences 
 may have been emphatic, but I feel confident that it 
 
 * Mr. Hegeler in a letter of May Sth, 1890, wrote : " In the last number of 
 The Open Court that reached me, I find Dr. Carus has defined our position 
 towards Ingersoll and his followers, and also that towards the Societies for 
 Ethical Culture. I believe the article was written by him already some time 
 ago, and the publication was delayed by our hesitancy to open what I will 
 call civilized war upon you. I have told the Doctor already, — a long while 
 ago, — that it was our duty to do this." 
 
 So, also, in a letter of June 4th, Mr. Hegeler wrote : " We ought to clear 
 our differences of opinion for the general good. You are an influential public 
 teacher, and I certainly spend a large amount of money for the same object — 
 and avoidance of waste and also the reduction of mental as well as physical 
 struggle or war to the smallest possible limit (but not the avoidance of the 
 struggle) belongs in my opinion to the essence of Ethics. The energy thereby 
 saved we have to use for a 'building up.' " 
 
 To this Mr. Salter replied, on June Sth : "I agree with you entirely that 
 we should endeavor to clear up our differences .... Nothing but preoccupa- 
 tion and lack of time have prevented me heretofore from explaining myself at 
 length to you. Indeed, I hoped that when my book came out, giving my views 
 at such length, I should have the benefit of criticism from you and Dr. Carus. 
 I, by no means, count my present views as final, as indeed I say in my preface. 
 And I wish to learn and assimilate all of positive truth, which you give in 
 The Open Court— and I have already gained help from it. So please criticise 
 me in public or in correspondence — and, at least in the summer, I will agree 
 to answer to the best of my ability, and I will always attentively read and 
 consider." — [Published 7vith Afr. Suiter's per miss ton.] 
 
 t Mr. Salter says in a marginal note : " I did not invite you to criticize the 
 movement in your public lectures; still you had a perfect right to do so, and 
 I am not sorry."
 
 loo THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 was not made so as to be offensive, for I have at the 
 same time not concealed my respect — nay, my admira- 
 tion for the efforts, the seriousness, and the noble 
 ideals of the ethical societies. 
 
 Mr. Salter is embarrassed by our criticism, be- 
 cause he neither feels the need of a basis of ethics, 
 nor does he feel urged to have a scientific explanation 
 of it. Ethics regarded as unexplainable, appears to 
 him greater, nobler, and holier than if it were ex- 
 plained. Yet we can assure Mr. Salter that morality 
 will not be degraded by any explanation. On the con- 
 trary, it will rise in its purest and holiest dignity. 
 
 Mr. Salter considers the demands of the conscience 
 as an ultimate fact; it is to him "the unmovable rock" 
 upon which he bases the ethical movement. He asserts 
 the independence of morality from religion as well as 
 science ; he attempts to make morality absolute. If a 
 gardener, in this way, makes the tree independent of 
 its roots, he becomes a wood cutter ; he will deprive 
 the tree of the conditions of its life. 
 
 If Mr. Salter would ask himself how he had come 
 into the possession of the ethical stimulus, he would 
 soon be urged to travel the same path with us. 
 
 The ethics of mysticism is only the prophesy of 
 ethics based on science. It is the bud's promise of a 
 fruit. It is like astrology which will mature into 
 astronomy. The astrologer has set his heart on the 
 mystic element of his profession ; it alone possesses 
 in his mind the charm of beauty, and he watches with 
 great grief how the bud loses that beauty v^^hile it 
 ripens into a fruit. 
 
 Before proceeding to the main subject of our con- 
 troversy, which refers to the question of the dispensa- 
 bility or indispensability of a basis for ethics, I shall
 
 /X RF.PLY TO MR. SALTER. loi 
 
 briefly dispose of a few side issues of less concern. In 
 so far as they are side issues I might pass them over 
 in silence. But it appears that they presuppose prin- 
 ciples which are of great ethical significance. 
 
 'JIIF. KIHICAI. IMPORT OF CRITICISMS. 
 
 As to the occasion of the three lectures, I am told 
 that my article, " The Basis of Ethics and the Ethical 
 Movement," was not the cause which suggested to the 
 speaker and the Board of Trustees of the Society for 
 Ethical Culture at Chicago, the idea of extending the 
 invitation to me. The invitation was tendered with- 
 out any special motive, and would have been tendered 
 even if that article had never been written.* I con- 
 fess that I was under the impression that the society 
 wanted me to explain our views with special reference 
 to their own position. It is a principle of The Open 
 Court to solicit criticism, and we expect that the same 
 principle animates every one who is eager to find out 
 the truth. We believe that the truth can be estab- 
 lished only by a square fight, where ideas are pitted 
 against ideas in fair and honest controversy. We do 
 not want to intrude upon the world with our private 
 and personal pet theories. We want to bring out the 
 truth. If our views are wrong, we want to be refuted, 
 and if we are refuted, we shall give up those ideas 
 which we have recognized as errors. 
 
 Mr. Salter says, "the ethical movement believes 
 that philosophical systems should have a free field and 
 that i/iat one should survive whose claims prove the 
 strongest in the struggle for existence, and all within 
 the fold of an ethical fellowship held together by a 
 
 ♦In the present edition of The Ethical Problem the words, "In conse- 
 quence of this article " (p. ii, ist ed.) have been replaced by the clause "soon 
 after the publication of this article" (see p. is, present edition).
 
 102 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 community of moral aim." Very well then, we act 
 accordingly : we propose a certain view and struggle 
 for it. Yet we do not enter the lists vainly or merely 
 for the sake of controversy. We do not struggle for 
 something which is indifferent, for we maintain that it 
 is the most importa7it question with which the members 
 of the ethical societies can concern themselves. 
 
 There is, at present, a fashionable tendency to con- 
 sider every struggle, whatever be its nature, as bad. 
 War, competition, emulation, criticism, are considered 
 as more or less barbaric forms of one and the same 
 principle — the principle of strife ; and this principle of 
 strife is denounced as the source of all evil. The 
 abolition of all strife, it is expected, will usher in the 
 beginning of a millennium. Whatever may be true 
 in this view, we see no other possibility of arriving at 
 truth than by struggling for it, and the struggle for 
 truth appears to us as a duty. 
 
 The weapon in the struggle for truth is criticism. 
 If we believe we are in possession of truth, let us expose 
 our opinion to the criticism of those competent to crit- 
 icise. If we differ in opinion, let us compare our 
 opinions and investigate as to which opinion is nearest 
 the truth. The invitation to speak before the Ethical 
 Society, was made with the special understanding that 
 we were to propose our view on the ethical problem ; 
 and it would not have been proper to ignore the posi- 
 tion of the Ethical Societies entirely. I should be 
 sorry to ''have taken an occasion, incidentally, to re- 
 inforce an earlier criticism " — if that criticism was not 
 welcome. Having stated a difference of opinion, it 
 seemed to me, that a further explanation, a justifi- 
 cation was demanded. Could I have acted other- 
 wise since, after all, criticism and counter criti-
 
 IN REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 103 
 
 cism are the sole means of arriving at truth ? And 
 then, our struggle for truth is not a personal fight 
 between our private views in which you or I sliould 
 hope to come out victorious. Our struggle for truth 
 is rather a co-operation, in which every one of us con- 
 tributes his share of insight and tries to free himself 
 from the errors that might be mixed up with a par- 
 tially correct conception of truth. 
 
 Mr. Salter is mistaken, when he speaks of "an atti- 
 tude of antagonism " towards the ethical societies on 
 our part. We do not intend to antagonize the ethical 
 societies ; on the contrary, we intend to promote their 
 welfare ; and we therefore call attention to that which 
 we consider as their most urgent and indispensa- 
 ble duty. It is their duty to build their house upon 
 a rock, so that it will withstand the rain and the 
 winds. Our antagonism, if our attitude is to be charac- 
 terized by that name, is an antagonism arising from 
 a common interest, from a religious zeal for the same 
 great cause, from a desire that the ethical societies 
 shall not neglect the one thing that is needed, that 
 they shall have been founded to stay for good, to 
 prosper, to increase, and to conquer. 
 
 INTUITIONALISM AND SUPERNATURALISM. 
 
 Mr. Salter blames me for " carelessness in treating 
 of ethical theories ; " he says, that I identify Intuition- 
 alism with Supernaturalism. Mr. Salter adds : 
 
 " And Paley on the strength of his theology is called an intu- 
 itionalist, while he was, in fact, one of the founders of utilitari- 
 anism." 
 
 Undoubtedly Paley was one of the founders of 
 utilitarianism. His theory is characterized in his own 
 words as follows :
 
 I04 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 " God Almighty wills and wishes the happiness of his creat- 
 ures." 
 
 Paley is a utilitarian with reference to the purpose 
 and aim of ethics. He is generally characterized as 
 "a theological utihtarian"; nevertheless I do not hes- 
 itate to class him among the intuitionalists, " on the 
 strength of his theology" as Mr. Salter rightly re- 
 marks. * Professor Sidgwick (in the Encyclopaedia 
 Britannica, vol. viii, p. 606) describes Paley's viev/s in 
 the following words : 
 
 " To be obliged is to be ' urged by a violent motive resulting 
 from the command of another '; in the case of moral obligation the 
 command proceeds from God, and the motive lies in the expecta- 
 tion of being rewarded and punished after this life." 
 
 Intuitionalism if it means anything means that the 
 moral command comes to us in some unaccountable 
 way mysteriously and directly from some sphere beyond. 
 I confess myself guilty of identifying "intuitional- 
 ism with supernaturalism." Everybody who main- 
 tains that the basic view of intuitionalism is true, is 
 in my opinion to be classed as an intuitionalist. If 
 the sense of duty, the moral ought, the idea of right 
 or wrong of conscience or whatever we call it, is an 
 unanalysable fact, if our knowledge of it comes to us 
 not through experience, but through some mystical 
 process concerning which philosophy and science can 
 give no information, we are confronted with a dualistic 
 theory. We have in that case to deal with a world- 
 
 * Whether Paley is represented as an intuitionalist or in the usual way as 
 " a theological utilitarian," does not in the least affect the subject of our con- 
 troversy. I selected his name, because his works are still read and better 
 known than those of other theological teachers of ethics. I confess openly 
 that I should not have mentioned him as one of "the representative authors 
 of intuitionalism," and have therefore in the present edition of The Ethical 
 Pi-obloti, suppressed his name by omittinf? the passage in which it occurs. I 
 do not, however, cease to count Paley among intuitionalists.
 
 IN KEri. y TO MR. SAL TER. 
 
 105 
 
 conception recognizing the existence of certain facts, 
 which are of a totally different character from all the 
 other facts. Whatever name we may be pleased to 
 give such a conception, it is and will remain super- 
 naturalism or at least extra-naturalism. 
 
 I look upon intuitionalism in ethics and upon its 
 philosophical correlative supernaturalism, as a kind of 
 scientific color line. Any one who attempts a concilia- 
 tion between supernaturalism and naturalism is a su- 
 pernaturalist, and every one who attempts a concilia- 
 tion between intuitionalism and other ethical views, 
 is an intuitionalist. 
 
 Are not all intuitionalists at the same time utili- 
 tarians, in so far as they expect that in the end the 
 good will be rewarded and the bad will be punished ? 
 We can reconcile intuitionalism with utilitarianism, if 
 utilitarianism means that in the end the good will be 
 rewarded and the bad will be punished. But we can- 
 not reconcile intuitionalism with any theory that con- 
 siders conscience as being of a natural growth, so that 
 it can be analysed and scientifically explained. 
 
 Utilitarianism is that theory which explains the 
 good in terms of the useful, and thus misleads people 
 to identify the useful and the good. If utilitarianism 
 means that the consequences of good deeds are some- 
 hov/ always useful, (perhaps not useful to ourselves, but 
 useful to somebody, and though perhaps not useful in 
 the present, yet useful in the future,) I shall not hesitate 
 to range myself among the utilitarians, however strongly 
 I protest against any identification of the useful and 
 the good, against making the usefulness of a deed the 
 test of its moral goodness, and still more against de- 
 fining the good in terms of pleasure.
 
 io6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 UTILITARIANISM AND HEDONISM. 
 
 As a further carelessness in treating of ethical theo- 
 ries, Mr. Salter mentions the distinction made be- 
 tween utilitarianism and hedonism. Mr. Salter says: 
 
 " Hedonism is treated separately from utilitarianism although 
 every form of utilitarianism has been hedonistic, modern utilitar- 
 ianism being simply universalistic hedonism." 
 
 I have deliberately treated hedonism and utili- 
 tarianism as separate theories, because I consider it 
 necessary to make a distinction between them. Hedon- 
 ism proposes the pleasurable, and utilitariariism the 
 useful as the ultimate test of ethics. These two prop- 
 ositions are in my opinion by no means congruent. 
 Most utilitarians, it is true, (I hesitate to say ''all" 
 utilitarians,) define the useful as that which affords 
 the greatest amount of pleasure. I see, nevertheless, 
 sufficient difference between the useful and the pleas- 
 urable. The term useful comprehends many things 
 or processes which cause much pain and produce little 
 pleasure. 
 
 While we uncompromisingly reject hedonism, we 
 see a possibility of reconciliation with utilitarianism, 
 provided the utilitarians drop for good the principle 
 of hedonism, and exclude from the term useful all those 
 transient advantages (generally considered as useful) 
 which occasionally come to man in consequence of 
 bad actions — for instance wealth gained by fraudulent 
 means. In short there can be no objection to utilitar- 
 ianism if we limit the term useful strictly to that kind 
 of usefulness which is the inevitable consequence of 
 good actions, provided we agree concerning a further 
 definition of good. Consider, however, that the main 
 motive perhaps of all immoral actions is the presumed 
 usefulness, and so far as the acting individual is con-
 
 /.V REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 107 
 
 cerned, not nnfrequently the actual usefulness of the 
 consequences attending immoral actions, and you will 
 confess that it is one of the most important duties of 
 ethics to set us on our guard against the temptations of 
 an imagined utility, and to inform us that what appears 
 useful is not always useful, that what is useful now, 
 may become very obnoxious in the future, and that what 
 is useful to one individual may be detrimental to others. 
 There are many phases of the useful which ethics can- 
 not and does not recommend, and we must have a 
 criterion for that kind of usefulness which is desirable. 
 This criterion alone is the standard of moral good- 
 ness ; and the character of every ethics depends upon 
 what is to be considered as this criterion. 
 
 It is characteristic of almost all utilitarian systems 
 (if they enter into the subject at all) that this crite- 
 rion is nothing that transcends the usual conception 
 of utility. The criterion of utilitarianism is usually 
 defined as the greatest happiness for the greatest num- 
 ber. Wherever a conflict arises between two or more 
 things that are useful, utilitarians propose to give 
 preference to the greater amount of usefulness : the 
 quantity of usefulness has to decide, not the quality. 
 
 Quantity or intensity of happiness, and quantity of 
 usefulness, can as little constitute moral goodness as a 
 majority vote can in moral questions decide as to what 
 is right or wrong. If, however, the quality of different 
 kinds of utility were to be considered as the determin- 
 ing factor of goodness, the useful as such would cease 
 to be the ultimate criterion of ethics, and that quality 
 would have to be considered as the ultimate test of 
 goodness which makes this or that act ethically pre- 
 ferable. 
 
 So long as this quality, which gives to one kind of
 
 io8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 acts with useful consequences the value we call moral 
 goodness, is not singled out as the characteristically 
 moral feature, I shall continue to maintain that utili- 
 tarianism, and most so hedonistic utilitarianism., slurs 
 over the difference between moral goodness and ma- 
 terial usefulness. 
 
 MONISM AND THE ETHICAL MOVEMENT. 
 
 Mr. Salter says : 
 
 ' ' What I had at least hoped for, was an exposition of the way 
 in which the monistic world-conception would serve as a basis of 
 ethics, for to me personally at any rate, and I think, to many more, 
 this would have been of considerable interest ; but monism is 
 classed along with agnosticism and materialism as one of the 
 thought-constructions of theorizing philosophers." 
 
 My lectures on the ethical problem were intended 
 to discuss the principle of ethics and its dependence 
 upon a conception of the world. They were not in- 
 tended as an exposition of the ethics of positivism or 
 of monism. It is not an exhaustive w'ork on ethics, 
 but a modest pamphlet ventilating the problem of eth- 
 ics. Nevertheless, the solution of the ethical problem 
 is sufficiently indicated so that the reader can form a 
 clear conception as to the basis, the construction, the 
 plan and the scope of that system of ethics which we 
 defend. But Mr. Salter should not be astonished to 
 find monism classed along with agnosticism and ma- 
 terialism among the world-conceptions of theorizing 
 philosophers. Are there not many philosophies pre- 
 tending to be monistic ? Shall we accept whatever 
 goes by the name of monism ? Or is it advisable to 
 warn against all philosophies except our own ? Our 
 own viev/ is certainly not exempt from criticism. It has 
 to be classed, and I have purposely classed it among 
 the theories to be criticised. It must be considered
 
 fX REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 109 
 
 as a mere theory, until its character as being a state- 
 ment of systematized facts is proved. 
 
 A distinction must be made between i) the posi- 
 tive and monistic philosophy that is growing now in the 
 minds of men, and 2) the monism and positivism which 
 we represent. There are a great number of philos- 
 ophers and scientists who work in the same line as our- 
 selves, and many truths are, with more or less lucidity, 
 pronounced independently by different scholars, some- 
 times in terms which seem to contradict one another. 
 I am sure that if we did not contribute to the growth 
 of this monistic world-conception, it would neverthe- 
 less develop. We do not create it ; it is not an inven- 
 tion of ours to which we have any patent right. All 
 we can do is to hasten its development to mature its 
 growth, to concentrate the many different aspirations 
 that tend to the same aim. 
 
 Should the special work we are doing in exhibiting 
 our monistic view of the universe happen to be radi- 
 cally wrong, it will pass away. The constructive work 
 we have been doing will in that case be transient, and 
 its usefulness will be confined to having served as a 
 stimulus to thought. 
 
 The monistic philosophy that is growing in man- 
 kind is an ideal. Our special and individual view is 
 an attempt to work out the realization of the ideal. 
 But the fact that we consider our view as an attempt 
 to realize the ideal philosophy of the future, does not 
 raise our special representation and elaboration of it 
 above criticism. 
 
 A similar discrimination must be made between 
 the ethical movement and the ethical societies. There 
 is an ethical movement preparing itself among man- 
 kind, and the ethical societies are one important
 
 no THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 symptom of this movement, but they are not the 
 sole symptom. The ethical movement is percep- 
 tible also in the churches ; it is perceptible in the 
 Secular Unions and in the political life of our nation. 
 The ethical societies, it seems to me, might become 
 and they ought to become the centre of the ethical 
 movement ; and they would become its centre, if they 
 understood the signs of the times. 
 
 The ethical movement and the nev/ philosophy of 
 positive monism are closely allied with each other. 
 Indeed, I consider them as the two main character- 
 istic features of the spiritual life of the future. Posi- 
 tive monism in order to be complete, must be practic- 
 ally applied, it must become a religion. It becomes 
 a religion by bringing about an ethical movement 
 which bases morality on the facts of life, so that the 
 ethics of supernaturalism are replaced by natural 
 ethics. 
 
 The ethical movement cannot refuse to go hand 
 in hand v/ith the philosophy of the times. It need not 
 commit itself to this or that particular representation 
 of monism, but it must upon the whole recognize the 
 basic principles of the coming religion of positive mo- 
 nism ; for if it does not, the movement will be of no 
 avail, and can be of no use to future generations to 
 whom the old and antiquated views have passed away. 
 
 Our desire is to make the leaders of the ethical 
 society understand that this is the vital problem of the 
 day. And here we come to the main point of our con- 
 troversy; viz., the question whether we can have ethics 
 without having a basis of ethics.
 
 JN REPLY TO MR. SALTER. m 
 
 THE BASIS OF ETHICS AND THE LEADING PRINCIPLE 
 
 IN ETHICS. 
 
 Mr. Salter says that I confound two questions : 
 
 " [First,] whatis the true world-conception, upon which every 
 special science may, in a broad and rather loose sense, be said to 
 be based ; and secondly, what is the ultimate principle in ethics 
 itself ? The second question might be more distinctly stated as 
 follows : Not what is the basis <y^ ethics, in the sense of "a philo- 
 sophical view back " of it (a theology or philosophy), but what is 
 the basic principle in ethics ? Ethics, in the popular sense, being 
 a system of rules for conduct, it is necessary, if it is to be treated 
 scientifically, that there should be some supreme rule, by their 
 agreement or disagreement with which all lesser rules should be 
 judged." 
 
 It appears to me that I do not confound these two 
 questions; yet I am confident that I see their intimate 
 connection. Our proposition is that the leading* prin- 
 ciple in ethics must be derived from the philosophical 
 view back of it. The world-conception a man has, can 
 alone give character to the principle in his ethics. 
 Without any world-conception we can have no ethics 
 (i. e., ethics in the highest sense of the word). We 
 may act morally like dreamers or somnambulists, but 
 our ethics would in that case be a mere moral instinct 
 without any rational insight into its raison d'etre. 
 
 If there is any difference between morality and 
 ethics, it is this, that morality is the habit of acting in 
 a certain way which, according to our view of the world 
 we live in, is considered as good ; while ethics (the 
 science of morality) is the conscious recognition of the 
 reasons which make an action good or bad. A bear 
 that sacrifices her life in the defense of her cubs acts 
 morally according to our view ; but her action is mainly 
 
 *The word "leading" appears to ine preferable to "basic" in this con- 
 nection.
 
 112 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 the result of impulse. The morality of animals appears 
 almost as a blind reflex action when compared to the 
 conscious self-sacrifice of an ethical man v/ho acts de- 
 liberately, knowing the reason why. 
 
 If I rightly understand Mr. Salter's proposition, 
 the Societies for Ethical Culture should according to 
 my terminology be called '■ ' Societies for Moral culture. " 
 
 Mr. Salter indeed emphasises this idea in the chap- 
 ter of his Ethical Religio7i to which he calls my atten- 
 tion. Ke says : 
 
 ' ' The basis of our movement is not a theory of morality, but 
 morality itself. " (p. 302.) 
 
 Is not Mr. Salter's meaning this? " Practical m.o- 
 rality must be the object (and not the basis) of the eth- 
 ical movement. Theories have no value unless they 
 are made practical by application." If this is Mr. 
 Salter's theory we agree with him, but we should add : 
 "No practical work can efficiently be done without 
 a theory. The result of the work will greatly de- 
 pend upon having the right theory." 
 
 In another passage Mr. Salter says : 
 
 " We do not propound new views of the Universe. We wish 
 rather a nev/ sense of duty." (p. 292) 
 
 Are not Christian and Jewish preachers constantly 
 at work to make our sense of dut}^ more sensitive ? If 
 that is Mr. Salter's meaning, he does the same work 
 that all honest clergym.en are doing. David cried for 
 the renewal of a right spirit within him (Psalm li, 10), 
 and Ezekiel described his work with the words : 
 
 " A new heart also will I give you and a new spirit will I put 
 within you. (3G, 26.) 
 
 For preaching "a new sense of duty" in tlie sense 
 of an unceasing moral progress and of a constant re-
 
 IN REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 113 
 
 newal of moral purposes, there would have been no 
 need of leaving the churches. Yet if by a new sense 
 of duty is meant an entirely new morality, different in 
 kind from the old morality, how can it be proposed 
 unless the basis of ethics be radically changed at the 
 same time, or at least differently applied ? In no case 
 can we ignore it. 
 
 I do not doubt but that humanity has made a great 
 moral progress, I do not doubt but that the average 
 morality among our grandchildren will be higher than 
 is the average morality of the present age, but I am 
 also firmly confident that we shall have to preach 
 the same morality over again to later generations. 
 The substance of our morality will not be changed. 
 That which must be changed is our conception of mo- 
 rality, in so far as it is to be based not upon a supernat- 
 ural authority, but upon the authority of natural laws. 
 We have to free ourselves from the ethics of supernat- 
 uralism, we must overcome the mysticism of the in- 
 tuitionalists' view ; we must be led out into clearness. 
 If we understand morality, its natural conditions, its 
 growth and purpose, we shall the better be prepared 
 to obey the moral commands. 
 
 The most important moral rules are not to be altered. 
 So far as I can see, some of them will be altered as little 
 as our arithmetical tables can be changed. Our sense 
 of duty may become more enlightened and more sensi- 
 tive, but its contents will remain about the same. If 
 we read the properly moral injunctions of Confucius, 
 or of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, or of the Hebrew 
 propliets, are they not, aside from a few odd expres- 
 sions due to the speech of their time or to awkward 
 translation, quite as modern as the sermons of a lec- 
 turer of the societies for ethical culture ? There is
 
 114 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 the same earnestness, the same impressiveness, the 
 personal tone of fatherly instruction, the appeal to the 
 noblest motives of the understanding and the heart. 
 
 How is it, that these old books have remained so 
 modern ? Because the subject of their exhortations 
 is ever new, and the same things have to be repeated 
 again to every generation. 
 
 Mr. Salter says that the ethical movement is not 
 devoted to antisupernaturalism. Supernaturalists not 
 only believe in a supernatural deity, they also base 
 their ethics on the revelation of a transcendent God. 
 Every attempt at humanizing ethics must from the 
 standpoint of supernaturalism be considered as a 
 superstitious presumption, and 1 have strong doubts 
 whether any serious believer in supernaturalism will 
 ever join an ethical society. One kind of supernatural- 
 ism only can be imagined to be compatible with the 
 views propounded by the ethical lecturers, viz., that 
 in which the idea of God has no practical meaning. 
 He alone, to whom his belief in supernaturalism is 
 ethically indifferent, will agree with Mr. Salter that the 
 ethical societies are not devoted to antisupernatural- 
 ism. 
 
 Mr. Salter looks upon supernaturalism, and indeed 
 upon any other basis of ethics not as a real basis, but 
 as a mere interpretation of ethics. He speaks of first 
 principles in ethics, but how does he come into their 
 possession, unless he derives them, if not consciously, 
 then unconsciously, from his conception of the world? 
 The leading principle of ethics must always be the ex- 
 pression of a conceptiot of the world. This is the 
 point Mr. Salter does not recognize. If he recognized 
 it, he would not so repeatedly complain about a lack 
 of clearness as to what a basis of ethics means.
 
 IN REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 115 
 
 FACTS, HOW THEY TEACH. 
 
 It has been emphasized in the three lectures on 
 The Etliical Problem that ethics must be based on 
 facts. With reference to this principle Mr. Salter 
 says : 
 
 " What then is the scientific world-conception, the true basis 
 of ethics ? I confess to having been completely taken aback, when 
 as I read on I discovered that Dr. Cams declined to answer the 
 question, contenting himself with vaguely saying that the true phi- 
 losophy will be one which is in accordance with facts, which seems 
 equivalent to saying that the scientific system will be a scientific 
 system." 
 
 The principle that the new ethics must be based on 
 facts, is certainly so obvious that it must appear as a 
 self-evident redundant truism. So all the most complex 
 arithmetical theories may be shown to be mere equa- 
 tions, they are tautologies which will appear to every 
 one who understands them, just as self-evident as 
 the equation i-|-ir=2. And yet it is sometimes quite 
 difficult to analyze and understand such a simple prop- 
 osition as that ethics must be based on facts. 
 
 Although Mr. Salter considers the proposition .that 
 "the scientific world-conception, the true basis of 
 ethics," must be based on facts as sufficiently obvious 
 as to be tautological, he makes objection to it as 
 being something in the air. He says : 
 
 " It has long been plain to me that resting ethics on our mat- 
 ter-of-fact wishes or instincts is not establishing ethics, but under- 
 mining it and leaving it a something " in the air." 
 
 Does Mr. Salter mean that ' ' basing ethics on facts " 
 denotes an exact imitation of the facts we experience ? 
 Does he think, that if we witness a murder, we are 
 thereby invited to commit a murder also?
 
 ii6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 I said (as Mr. Salter declares "in one clear-sighted 
 passage") that 
 
 " Ethics is not ready made, it is not the one or the other fact 
 among all the realities of the universe. Ethics is our attitude to- 
 ward the facts of reality. (The Ethical Problem, p. i8.) 
 
 With reference to this statement Mr. Salter says : 
 
 " The latter remark seems to imply that the same facts may 
 be looked at from different attitudes ; if so how are the facts them- 
 selves to decide which attitude we shall take ? " 
 
 Certainly we can take different attitudes toward 
 facts. But the proper attitude toward facts can be 
 learned from the facts alone. Facts teach us for in- 
 stance the laws of health. Mr. Salter suggests that 
 any one might say, "■ I do not care about my health." 
 But in that case the laws of health are not (as Mr. 
 Salter declares,) meaningless to him. He will soon 
 find out the meaning of the laws of health. Facts will 
 teach him to care for his health, and if he does not, 
 nature will soon deprive him of health and life. 
 
 I happen to know a sad case of my own experience. 
 A strong and healthy young man, a jovial companion 
 and of social habits, defied the laws of health, and 
 could do so for some time on account of his strength 
 and youth. I plainly remember that he once said to 
 me almost in the same words in which Mr. Salter 
 puts it : "I do not care about the lav/s of health, nor 
 do I care for a long life. It is not pleasant to grow 
 so very old. I would rather live so as to please myself, 
 even though my life be shorter by ten years." A 
 year elapsed and he fell sick never to recover again. 
 His parents buried him in the bloom of his life. 
 
 Facts are not mute ; they teach us. Our knowl- 
 edge of facts is called experience, and from knowledge 
 of facts alone the principles of action can be derived.
 
 IX REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 117 
 
 Mr. Salter is far from basing ethics upon the soHd 
 
 ground of facts. He combines with ethics the idea 
 
 that it must be something absohite. In his lecture, 
 
 "Is There Anything Absolute About Morality?" he 
 
 says : 
 
 " If by morality is meant only the actual conduct of men, we 
 have plainly to negative our question, and say there is nothing ab- 
 solute about morality, since the conduct of men has been after any 
 but a fixed, unvarying type." (pp. 83, 84.) 
 
 Mr. Salter finds the absolute of morality in con- 
 science. The commands of conscience, Mr. Salter 
 declares, are absolute. But have there not been erring 
 consciences which prove that conscience is anything 
 but an absolute authority? Mr. Salter evades the dif- 
 ficulty by declaring that the inquisitors and other men 
 who committed crimes in perfect faith that they were 
 doing a good work, had no conscience at all. Concern- 
 ing the barbarous treatment of the Canaanites, he 
 goes so far as to maintain : 
 
 " I doubt if Moses, or one of the heroes of the Israelitish 
 legend ever seriously asked himself, What is right ?" (p. 91.) 
 
 In a certain sense there is something absolute in 
 ethics, although we should not call it " absolute." We 
 should prefer to say, there is something objective in 
 ethics ; and the objective element in ethics makes it 
 possible for ethics to become a science and for moral- 
 ity to be based on science i. e., a systematized state- 
 ment of facts. 
 
 THE MORAL L.\W AND iMGRAL RULES. 
 
 For the sake of clearness let us distinguish be- 
 tween the moral law and moral rules. By the moral 
 law we understand a law of nature which is as rigid 
 and objective as are all other laws of nature. By
 
 ii8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 moral rules we understand the formulation of certain 
 commands, based upon a more or less comprehensive 
 knowledge of the moral law. 
 
 The moral law operates in nature with the same 
 unfailing exactness as does, for instance, the law of 
 gravitation. If a stone is without support, it falls to 
 the ground whether we wish it to fall or not. If the 
 members of a society infringe upon the moral law, 
 they will reap the evils consequent thereupon. The 
 course of events follows with the same necessity in the 
 one case as in the other, in the realms of inorganic as 
 well as of organized nature. 
 
 Organized nature develops feeling, and feeling de- 
 velops mind. The acts of beings endowed with mind 
 take place with the same necessity in a given situa- 
 tion, as does the fall of a stone under certain circum- 
 stances. But it must not be forgotten that, aside from 
 the intensity of impulsive force in the different inclina- 
 tions for this or that course of action, the intelligence 
 of beings endowed with mind has become the main 
 factor in the determination of their acts. A cannon 
 ball, shot under exactly the same circumstances, will 
 take exactly the same course, and a man of a certain 
 character will be guided by the same motives in ex- 
 actly the same way. But we must bear in mind, that 
 if the same man happens to come a second time into 
 the same situation, he is no longer the same man. 
 The former experience has modified his character, be 
 it ever so little. He has profited by that experience 
 either for a repetition or an avoidance of the act. And 
 the more he has profited by experience, the freer he 
 will become, i. e., the less will he be dependent upon 
 the situation, and the more decisive will be his intelli- 
 gence in determining his will.
 
 /;\' REPLY TO MR. SALTER 119 
 
 The method of intelligent action is that of formu- 
 lating knowledge of natural laws in the shape of com- 
 mands. All knowledge is a description or systematized 
 formulation of natural facts ; and all intelligent action 
 is an application of knowledge. If we pursue certain 
 purposes, how can we, for our own use as well as for 
 the education of others, state our knowledge better 
 than in the shape of rules ? The rules of architecture 
 help us in the construction of a house. But these 
 rules of architecture are nothing but the knowledge 
 of building materials and of the methods of combin- 
 ing them to provide people with dwellings. The 
 rules of morality help us in building up our lives, so 
 that our individual existence is not antagonistic to the 
 growth of society ; but it furthers the development of 
 humanity in the sphere of our activity, and will after 
 our death continue to be a blessing unto mankind. 
 But the rules of morality are based upon the moral 
 law not otherwise than the rules of architecture are 
 derived from our knowledge of natural facts. The 
 rules we set up, may be right or wrong, they can show 
 a greater or smaller comprehension of the nature of 
 things, at any rate they are ultimately based upon the 
 facts of nature, and alone by an investigation of the 
 facts of nature can we become assured of their truth. 
 
 THE GROWTH OF CONSCIENCE, 
 
 Mr. Salter in declaring that ethics cannot be 
 based on facts, does not sufficiently appreciate the 
 truth that experience actually teaches man. Man is 
 educated in the severe school of natural facts, ruled 
 by the unalterable law of cause and effect. Man's 
 whole existence and also his moral existence, his con- 
 science is a product of this education.
 
 I20 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Is conscience truly beyond the pale of science ? 
 If it were, we should have to accept the mysticism 
 of its existence. Let us see how man's conscience 
 originates. 
 
 A child observes the behavior of his parents, he 
 listens to their instruction. He imbibes almost un- 
 consciously with his first impressions the ethical na- 
 ture of his mother. He notices the disdain of his 
 father, for instance, when somebody told him a lie, 
 he witnesses the contempt with which the liar was 
 alluded to or thought of. All these many experiences 
 are implanted into the soil of an inherited disposition 
 which has come down from ancestors, swayed by the 
 same motives and acting in a similar way. 
 
 Whenever a temptation arises to tell a lie, all the 
 memories of former experiences that are of a similar 
 nature will be more or less dimly awakened. Not the 
 moral injunctions of his parents and teachers alone 
 will be awakened, but also the evil examples of his bad 
 comrades. There is perhaps one among them who lied 
 and he succeeded with his lie : he extricated himself 
 by a lie out of an awkv/ard situation. Such instances 
 are dangerous, for they corrupt the souls of the weak. 
 Yet there is most likely also another instance of some 
 one who heaped shame upon himself; the lie was found 
 out and his plight was changed from bad to worse. In 
 addition to these reminiscences other considerations 
 awaken, such as : Even if the lie be not found out, I 
 should in the future have to class myself among liars ! 
 
 Conscience is by no means a simple and unanalyz- 
 able fact ; it is not at all one single voice. Conscience 
 is the combined experience of innumerable lessons, 
 taught us by our teachers' injunctions and by ob- 
 servation of surrounding events.
 
 IN REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 121 
 
 Conscience is as little a faculty, having a special 
 seat or organ in the brain as is for instance memory, 
 imagination, or will, or any other abstract concept 
 designating a special attitude, phase, or quality of the 
 mind. The term "conscience" is an abstraction 
 which covers a special group of psychical activities. 
 Conscience in any other sense is a ghost, and to be- 
 lieve in it is a superstition. It does not appear that 
 Mr. Salter adopts the ghost-idea of conscience, but it 
 seems to me that he fails to see what conscience ac- 
 tually is. By conscience we understand the sum-total 
 of all those impulses which serve for the regulation of 
 human action. But there is no conscience that de- 
 mon-like lives as a mysterious being somewhere in the 
 abodes of the soul. 
 
 If man's life consisted of single and isolated mo- 
 ments, he would have no choice but to obey the im- 
 pulse cf the moment. Since his life consists of mo- 
 ments that are coherent forming all together a unity, 
 and since before obeying an impulse that prompts to 
 action, man can and will have to take into considera- 
 tion other impulses, a choice is offered and he will 
 naturally choose to follow that impulse which prom- 
 ises the greatest amount of pleasure. This is the be- 
 ginning of rational action. Man's life, however, is 
 not only a complex unity of many coherent moments, 
 it is also interwoven with the lives of his fellow- 
 beings. His actions affect others ; and in whatever 
 way he affects others, they will again affect him. 
 The principles of his conduct are brought home to 
 him. He may try to evade the consequences of his 
 actions. Exceptionally he may apparently succeed, 
 but not in the long run. He can as little escape the 
 consequences of his actions as he can annul any law
 
 122 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of nature. His life is intimately bound up with the 
 lives of all his fellow beings ; and sooner or later the 
 truth will dawn upon him that his life is only the part 
 of a greater whole. He will die, but the greater whole 
 will contiue, and the worth of his life will have to be 
 judged in the end by that which remains of his actions 
 after death. He will hear the men praised whose 
 lives were a blessing to mankind, he will see their 
 deeds continue working good and perhaps preserving 
 their individual memory. He will learn to detest the 
 man who leaves an inheritance of curses. The ex- 
 amples of the one as well as the other are most im- 
 pressive and will contribute much in forming the con- 
 science of man's soul. 
 
 Conscience does not well up from a mysterious 
 source, but it grows from natural conditions, and for 
 that reason it is not at all infallible. The conscience 
 of a man well instructed and surrounded by noble 
 examples, is different from the conscience of the un- 
 educated. The conscience of a savage is often grossly 
 mistaken. The most shameful acts are performed 
 often against all natural inclinations not for the sake 
 of gaining some personal advantage but solely because 
 they are erroneously considered as "right." 
 
 In a certain sense it is proper to proclaim that man 
 should obey the behests of his conscience; but con- 
 science is not one special voice in man. It cannot be 
 compared to a person, although figuratively we may 
 call it the God in us, the prophetic soul, or the judge 
 of our actions. It is not rounded off as are individual 
 beings \ but consists of many thoughts, the mean- 
 while accusing or excusing one another (Rom 2, 15). 
 
 One most essential part of man's conscience must 
 be the sincere desire to criticize the different proposi-
 
 IN REPLY TO MR. SALTER. 123 
 
 tions of conscience. Conscience must not be blind, 
 but its principle feature must be that of examination. 
 And exact examination is not possible without knowl- 
 edge. Thus it is an essential principle of a well di- 
 rected conscience to aspire for more knowledge, for 
 more light, so as to be able to judge the better. A 
 healthy conscience is constantly growing. 
 
 It cannot be denied, that upon the whole the voices 
 of conscience, i. e., those impulses which lift man 
 above the transient advantages and the petty egotism 
 of his limited individual interests, naturally tend to 
 preserve his soul ; they find approbation by his fellow 
 men and let him partake of the superindividual life of 
 humanity. According to natural law the immoral 
 element of humanity is constantly discarded as unfit 
 to survive. However, the moral aspirations that tend 
 to bring man into harmony with the conditions of his 
 existence especially with the social relations of man- 
 kind, preserve his soul, and must in this way very 
 soon acquire a greater strength than the lower desires 
 of his animal nature. 
 
 The impulses of m.an's animal nature, hunger, 
 thirst, acquisitiveness of all kinds, i. e., the impulses 
 arising from the wants of his individual existence, ap- 
 pear to originate within himself, they are considered 
 as expressions of his individual existence. But the 
 superindividual voices of his conscience seem to come 
 to him from the outside of his surroundings. They 
 teach him to restrain the animal impulses and to set 
 himself in accord with those conditions which are more 
 comprehensive and more lasting than his individual 
 existence. They bring him in union with that greater 
 whole of which his individual existence is but a small 
 part and a transient phase.
 
 124 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 In this way the many promptings to action in the 
 soul of man are mainly divided into two classes : the 
 first we call egotistic motives; they urge man to follow 
 his natural appetites ; and the second we will call the 
 superindividual aspirations ; they keep man's natural 
 appetites in check and teach man regard for the 
 greater whole to which he belongs. The former ap- 
 pear to him as expressions of his individual will and 
 the latter as manifestations of an outside power higher, 
 nobler, and stronger than himself. The latter alone 
 form that which is generally called conscience. Con- 
 science, accordingly, is justly considered as invested 
 with authority and its promptings appear naturally in 
 the shape of commands. 
 
 The recognition of this authority for the purpose 
 of regulating conduct in accordance v/ith its laws, is 
 the beginning of all ethics ; and thus it is this authority 
 which represents the basis of ethics. 
 
 The authority which finds expression in man's 
 conscience, however, is by no means beyond the scope 
 of science. We can investigate it and we must in- 
 vestigate it. The more we understand its origin, the 
 better we shall be able to judge of its importance and 
 the less we shall be liable to be guided astray by an 
 erring conscience.
 
 SCIENCE AND ETHICS. 
 
 To BASE ethics on facts, to derive the rules of our 
 attitude toward facts from experience, to shape our 
 ideals, not from the airy stuff of something beyond 
 the ken of science, but in accordance with laws de- 
 rived from reality, this is (as I said in my first lecture) 
 the line of demarcation between the old and the new 
 ethics. Mr. Salter by rejecting science places him- 
 self upon the antiquated ground of intuitionalism. I 
 know that he rejects the old fashioned supernatural- 
 ism, but indeed his view (if expressed with consist- 
 ency) ought to appear as supernaturalism. He says : 
 
 " Conscience is not knowledge, — for knowledge is of what is, 
 and conscience is the thought of what ought to be." 
 
 And in other passages (p. 304) : 
 
 "These moral laws of our being are so close and constitu- 
 tional to us that the very existence of virtue is bound up with a 
 recognition of them." 
 
 "Who can give a reason for the supreme rule ? Indeed, no 
 serious man wants a reason. The supreme command appeals 
 immediately to the human mind ; it is an assertion of the human 
 mind." 
 
 " Amiel, ' the sweet-souled Genevan mystic,' says : ' It is not 
 history which teaches righteousness to the conscience ; it is con- 
 science which teaches righteousness to history. The actual is 
 corrupting ; it is we who rectify it by loyalty to the ideal.' " 
 
 Might these expressions not occur in any work of 
 an intuitionalist ? Is not in this way, by considering
 
 126 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 conscience as something that lies beyond the pale of 
 science, beyond the knowable realm of natural facts, 
 mysticism introduced as an essential element of moral- 
 ity? And indeed, Mr. Salter does not approve of it 
 that ''morality is thought to be without mystery." 
 There is a dualism lurking in Mr. Salter's ethics, as 
 if the moral order were something radically different 
 from the order of this world : 
 
 " Though it [morality] warns us and commands us, it does so 
 in that supreme act in which we warn and command ourselves ; 
 it is the utterance of the God in us, of the ' prophetic soul ' in 
 which we all share, and signifies that we are part and parcel of 
 another order of things than that which we can see and handle, 
 and are rooted in somewhat firmer than the earth, and more an- 
 cient, more venerable than the heavens." 
 
 There is no objection to defining morality in poet- 
 ical terms as "the utterance of God" (i. e. , the im- 
 manent God) or as the "prophetic soul," but it is not 
 another order of the world. Morality is based upon, 
 it is creating a better state of things by conforming to 
 the order of this very same world in which we live. 
 
 The moral law is not considered by Mr. Salter as 
 the highest natural law, higher than other natural 
 laws ; but it is said to be above or outside of nature. 
 Mr. Salter says : 
 
 "The moral sentiment dwarfs Nature, it goes out to that 
 which is beyond Nature." 
 
 In consistency with his view that the moral senti- 
 ment goes out to that which is bej^ond nature, Mr. 
 Salter rejects science as a basis of ethics. He says : 
 
 " Agnosticism is no more than a confession of the limitations 
 of our knowledge. But what we do not know is hardly a basis 
 for action. . . . Nor is science, teaching us positively what we do 
 know, a sufficient guide for us. I will yield to none in my admi- 
 ration and wonder before the world which science has revealed to
 
 SCIENCE AND ETHICS. 127 
 
 us. How has space widened and time grown infinite, and how 
 does one law seem to hold in its grasp the mighty movements of 
 systems and the least tear that trickles down a child's face ! It is 
 a ?/M/verse, majestic, solemn, in the midst of which we live, and it 
 would seem to suggest to us great and solemn thoughts as to what 
 our own lives should be. 
 
 "But when I turn from Nature to consider human life and 
 the order of human society, my reverence in one way lessens 
 rather than grows deeper. The science that reports faithfully, 
 philosophically the varied facts of our human existence is not al- 
 together a pleasant page to read. History, which is one branch 
 of the science of man, tells of animalism, of brutal selfishness, 
 of towering wrongs, of slow-returning justice, often of a blind in- 
 furiated justice, that punishes the innocent and leaves the guilty 
 free. And observation — statistics, which is nothing else than sci- 
 entific observation — reveals almost as many things that ought 
 not to be as things which should be. Statistics of crime are just 
 as much science as would be statistics of peace and order, — sta- 
 tistics of prostitution as truly scientific as those of family purity, 
 of poverty as truly as those of comfort and competence. 
 
 " What science teaches must invariably be accepted as fact, 
 but it may none the less provoke moral repulsion and rebellion. 
 We may say to some of the facts, ' You have no right to be !' Yes, 
 the very end of our scientific observation may sometimes be to 
 render such observation in the future impossible, — that is, to de- 
 stroy the facts. Plainly, then, science is not ultimate. It tells us 
 simply what is ; it tells us nothing of what ought to be. What 
 ought to be, — that is reported to us by a higher faculty than that 
 of scientific observation ; it is an assertion, a demand of the con- 
 science. 
 
 ' ' Here, then, is to my mind the true basis of our movement, — 
 not the old religions ; not religion itself, in the popular under- 
 standing of that term ; not agnosticism, though as matter of fact 
 some of us may be agnostics ; not science, though the facts of 
 science, every one of them, should have our recognition. It is 
 something deeper and more ancient, I might say, than any of 
 these : it is the rock of conscience, the eternal laws that announce 
 themselves in man's moral nature. . . . Conscience, in a word, 
 ushers us into an ideal realm."
 
 128 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 The ideal realm is nothing that stands in contra- 
 diction to the facts of life. Ideals which do not con- 
 form to the laws of nature derived from facts, are 
 mere dreams.* Ideals must be based on science, in 
 order to be realizable ; and ideals that are unrealiz- 
 able, impossibilities, are mirages, but not ideals. 
 
 Mr. Salter has a v/rong and too limited conception 
 of science ; he takes science to mean knowledge, viz., 
 a mere understanding, of facts, but he excludes from 
 his definition "our judgment upon facts." He says : 
 
 " In tbe strict sense of the word, science — the science of man 
 as truly as any other — knows nothing of right and wrong, but only 
 of what is ; of facts, and the law of their connection. To the 
 pure understanding, virtue and vice do not exist. These notions 
 arise in virtue of our judgment upon facts ; and the organ of that 
 judgment is other than that by which we learn of and explain the 
 facts themselves : men call it Conscience." 
 
 The sole purpose of science is the application of 
 science. As Mr. Salter rightly says: "For man is 
 not only to know, but to do and to achieve." We 
 study nature, and science exists for doing and achiev- 
 ing. In order to do and to achieve we must know. 
 Knowledge is the basis of any achievement, not only 
 in practical business for manufacturing, invention etc., 
 but also for moral life. There is no conscience without 
 knowledge, there is no Gewisseti without Wissen. Con- 
 science is not a faculty that exists prior to knowledge 
 of facts, but it develops from a comprehension of 
 facts, from a knov/ledge of the consequences of human 
 action. Mr. Salter says (p. 37) : 
 
 "It is strange, when we bear in mind the ideal nature of 
 morality, to hear that morality must be based upon facts. Mor- 
 ality is not really a question of facts, but of the right of facts to 
 be, of their correspondence with a standard of the mind. . . . 
 
 * See above, pp. ig and 23.
 
 SCIENCE AND ETHICS. 129 
 
 Base morality on facts ? Which facts ? There are innumerable 
 facts, an induction from which would only give us immorality. 
 The good facts, then ? But plainly, this is moving in a circle. In 
 truth, there is nothing; on which to base morality. We do not so 
 much find it, as demand it in the world. 
 
 Can anyone derive from evils and the consequences 
 of evils, rules of iniquity ? The facts tliat ought not be, 
 speak loud, very loud ; they speak with no uncertain 
 voice, and morality is preached mainly on account of 
 such facts as, like the innocent Abel's blood, cry 
 out to heaven ! Suppose that a murderer has no 
 conscience to guide him, will not the results of his 
 crime teach him a most impressive lesson ? The re- 
 sults of his crime will set him thinking, so that he 
 will ask himself : Was it right to slay my brother ? The 
 evils of immorality and the consequences of these 
 evils are a most powerful stimulus for asking the ques- 
 tion what is right and what is wrong ? Man has to 
 face the facts of life and has to find out the right way 
 of salvation by experience. His experience appears 
 first as a dim instinct, often erring and sometimes 
 hitting upon the right thing. Yet there is no other 
 guide, no supernatural revelation, no intuitional fac- 
 ulty (in the sense of intuitionalism), no direct com- 
 mands that might 'appeal immediately to the human 
 mind.' 
 
 Mr. Salter may not call himself an intuitionalist, 
 but he takes the standpoint of intuitionalism. He 
 does not call his world-conception supernaturalism ; 
 but it is supernaturalism. While the Unitarians, 
 following Theodore Parker, are seriously at work to 
 "rationalize religion," while many Jewish rabbis rec- 
 ognize the truth of monism and therewith ackowledge 
 the immanence of God, the leaders of the ethical so-
 
 I30 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 cieties remain upon the dualistic standpoint of extra- 
 naturalism. 
 
 It is true the leaders of the ethical societies have 
 dropped the old fashioned terminology of super- 
 naturalism. Yet their ethics is as supernatural as the 
 old conception of an extramundane deity. The idea 
 of God is replaced by the ethical command, but the 
 latter has remained as mysterious and transcendent, 
 extramundane and extranatural as was the Jehovah of 
 old-fashioned dogmatism.
 
 THE AUTHORITY OF THE MORAL LAW. 
 
 Conscience is not so much an authority itself, as 
 it is representative of an authority. It represents the 
 authority of the moral law in the world, which is no less 
 a reality than all the other natural laws. Mr. Salter 
 in a most enthusiastic lecture on the higher law con- 
 taining much that is true, asks the question : 
 
 " Whence comes the authority of this law that is within and 
 over us ? " 
 
 Mr. Salter continues : 
 
 "The ordinary answers seem to me here entirely to fail .... 
 the last answer as to the sources of the authority of the higher law 
 fails as truly as the first. In fact there is no answer ; there are 
 no sources for that supreme authority." 
 
 The Israelites conceived the authority of the moral 
 
 law, the power that makes for righteousness, under 
 
 the allegory of a powerful ruler of nature, as a great, 
 
 personal being, as a legislator who had revealed his 
 
 wise orders to Moses. And through the mouth of 
 
 Moses, the God of the Old Testament is said to have 
 
 characterized himself in the following words : 
 
 "I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of 
 the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation 
 of them that hate me ; and showing mercy unto thousands of them 
 that love me, and keep my commandments." 
 
 That God is jealous means he is intolerant. He 
 enforces his will and suffers no one to live who at- 
 tempts permanently to resist his will.
 
 132 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 The God of Science is just as jealous, just as in- 
 tolerant as the God of the Old Testament. The laws 
 of nature are firm, unalterable, irrefragable, and omni- 
 potent. The will of God is described to be "stead- 
 fast forever," and his dominion over the world* is 
 proclaimed to be eternal. It is only by obedience 
 to the immutable laws of nature that we can live. The 
 Psalmist says : 
 
 "Unless thy law had been my delights, I should then have 
 perished in mine affliction." (119, 92.) 
 
 Who can doubt that nature enforces her laws rigor- 
 ously, that she ruthlessly punishes him who does not 
 regard them, but that, on the other hand, (to use the 
 poetical phrase of the Bible,) she is "plenteous in 
 mercy " to him who loves her, who studies her secrets 
 and obeys her commandments ? Certainly, the laws 
 of nature are not deities, and the moral order of the 
 world is not a person. But they are, nevertheless, ob- 
 jective realities just the same. 
 
 We have ceased to believe in Demeter, but we 
 have not ceased tilling the ground. And if we ask, 
 Who is it that taught man to till the ground ? we 
 do not hesitate to answer, "It is experience; the facts 
 of life have taught man to sow and to harvest the 
 fruits of the earth." The mj^th of Demeter is not 
 wrong, it is simply an allegory ; and the myth of a 
 personal God having spoken to Moses out of a fiery 
 bush contains great truths, but we must bear in mind 
 that the truths contained in the Mosaic religion are 
 v/rapped in poetry. And science can just as much 
 explain ethics and the moral law, and the authority 
 of moral obligations, as it can derive the rules of 
 agriculture from the facts of nature. 
 
 * Daniel 6, 26.
 
 THE AUTHORITY OF THE MORAL LAW. 133 
 
 It is true as Mr. Salter says, "Science teaches us 
 that which is, but Ethics that which ought to be." 
 But that which ought to be, must be based upon that 
 which is ; else it will not stand. 
 
 What is the ought ? The ought is that into which 
 the is has the tendency to change. It is the is to be. 
 
 A Unitarian friend of mine compares in this re- 
 spect ethics to obstetrics. Ethics cannot at individual 
 pleasure create ideals of morality, all it can do is to 
 find out the tendency of life and to assist in bringing 
 the is to be to birth. The authority upon which ethics 
 is based, he says, is not a person, but we can repre- 
 sent it as a person. We can symbolize its activity as if 
 it consisted of personal actions, and that is the method 
 by which the various religions teach ethics. 
 
 In fine, the authority according to which moral 
 ideals must be shaped, is not subjective, but objec- 
 tive. It is not to be sought for in the realms of abso- 
 lute principles, but must be modeled in conformity 
 with existing facts and with the eternal laws that 
 science abstracts from existing facts. 
 
 Ethical ideals that are not based on facts, are like 
 the mirage in the desert. The mirage may be more 
 beautiful than the oasis, but he goes astray who ven- 
 tures to follow it. 
 
 THE THREE PHASES OF ETHICAL DEVELOPMENT, 
 
 There are three phases or periods in the ethical 
 development of mankind. Like all phases of evolution 
 they are not sharply divided ; one passes over into the 
 next gradually. Their development is nevertheless 
 sufficiently marked to be noticeable. 
 
 The first period begins with the dawn of civilized
 
 134 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 life and culminates in the establishment of authorita- 
 tive dogmatism. The transition to the second period 
 is marked by the breakdown of this authoritative dog- 
 matism. The second period is the substitution of the 
 individual conscience in the place of dogmatism. It 
 culminates in the recognition of the sovereignty of the 
 moral ought, and of the freedom of conscience. The 
 transition to the third period is the result of the con- 
 flicts produced by the arbitrary nature of the vari- 
 ous conceptions of duty. 
 
 If man's conscience is to be considered as the ul- 
 timate court of appeal we can have no objective 
 standard of right and wrong. That which is wrong 
 according to my conscience, may be right according 
 to the conscience of others. How shall we decide? 
 It is obvious that we want an objective standard of 
 morality. Without an objective standard of morality 
 we shall sink into moral anarchy, where the will of 
 the individual is the sole test of what is right or wrong. 
 
 Accordingly ethics is in need of an authority to 
 decide the conflict between two consciences or the 
 conflict between two different commands in the con- 
 science of one and the same man. 
 
 Must we return to the old dogmatism of the first 
 period? We shall not; for we have outgrown mythol- 
 ogy, and shall never return to the creeds of the old 
 religions. But we need not think of returning to the 
 old views, we can progress to a higher view. We have 
 now better means than our ancestors had for recog- 
 nizing the authority upon which the moral ought rests. 
 Our knowledge of nature and of the laws of nature 
 has grown sufficiently for us to be able to account for 
 the necessity as well as the natural growth of morality. 
 The authority upon which the moral commands are
 
 THE AUTHORITY OF THE MORAL LAW. 135 
 
 based can be scientifically investigated and explained 
 no less than the other facts of nature. 
 
 The first period is represented by the Mosaic law, by 
 Roman Christianity, and similar institutions of author- 
 itative dogmatism. The second period is represented 
 by certain phases and ideals of the Reformation, the 
 overthrow of Roman authority, and the recognition of 
 the liberty of conscience. The third period is the re- 
 ligion of the future, which is near at hand. It is the 
 basing of ethics upon the firm ground of facts. It 
 is the recognition of an authority the nature of which 
 can be explained by science. It is the establishment 
 of the religion of science. 
 
 This religion of science is not only the fulfilment 
 of the old religions; it is also the realization of that 
 ideal which has been called natural religion. If the 
 societies for ethical culture had been founded to rep- 
 resent this view, they would grow like the mustard 
 seed ; the seed would soon be the greatest among 
 herbs and become a tree so that the birds of the air 
 would come and lodge in the branches thereof. 
 
 Mr. Salter does not approve of what he calls "set- 
 ting up a standard of philosophical orthodoxy." He 
 says : 
 
 " Dr. Carus, I am sorry to see, has not outgrown the secta- 
 rian principle of the churches, and would apparently give us 
 another sect as ' exclusive ' and ' intolerant ' as any of the past, 
 though (Gottlob) it will slay with the sword of the spirit and not 
 with the arm of flesh." 
 
 It lies in the nature of ethics to establish an au- 
 thority, and every authority is in a certain sense ex- 
 clusive and intolerant. An ethical teacher, in my 
 mind, cannot help being "exclusive" and "intolerant," 
 if "intolerant" means the confidence that there is
 
 136 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 but one truth. Or shall any kind of ethics have the 
 same right? Can anybody violate a law if only his 
 conscience impels him to ignore that law? and can 
 truth be tolerant of error ? or can we have different 
 kinds of truth which, although contradictory among 
 themselves, may be of equal value? 
 
 The ideal of tolerance (as the word is commonly 
 used) means that we use no other weapons in the de- 
 fense of our opinion than the sword of the spirit, but it 
 does not mean that any and every error has the same 
 right as dem.onstrable truths. 
 
 It v/ould be intolerant to make a certain belief the 
 condition for being admitted to a religious society ; 
 but it is not intolerant for anybody, neither for so- 
 cieties nor for individuals, to have a definite and out- 
 spoken opinion. Nor would the leaders of the Ethical 
 Societies commit themselves to intolerance and ex- 
 clusiveness by declaring what they understand by 
 ethics. We maintain that they cannot properly teach 
 ethics without knowing what ethics means. In order 
 to knov/ what ethics means, they must define the idea 
 of moral goodness, and they cannot define the idea of 
 moral goodness without proposing a basis of ethics. 
 If that is intolerant sectarianism, they have in our 
 opinion to become intolerant sectarians. But definite- 
 ness of opinion is neither intolerance nor sectarian- 
 ism, so long as an opinion remains exposed to scien- 
 tific criticism, so long as in the struggle for truth its 
 upholders slay only with the sword of the spirit and not 
 with the arm of flesh. To have no opinion and to de- 
 clare that officially the Societies for Ethical Culture 
 do not intend to have an opinion, is not tolerance, but 
 indefiniteness. 
 
 Conventionalism may be a sufficient raison d'etre
 
 THE AUTIIORirV OF THE MORAL LAW. 137 
 
 for formalities, ceremonies, and customs ; but it is not 
 a sufficient basis for ethics. And a reformatory move- 
 ment such as the Societies for Ethical Culture aspire 
 to inaugurate, cannot take deep root if it is planted 
 on the stony ground of conventionalism. 
 
 The intolerance of the first period is an intolerance 
 of assumed authority, but the intolerance of the re- 
 ligion of science — if intolerance it can be called — is 
 the sovereignty of demonstrable truth. Truth is one 
 from eternity to eternity, and there is no other truth 
 beside that one and sole and immutable truth. Truth 
 is that Deity which suffers no equal. Like Jehovah 
 in the Decalogue, Truth pronounces as its first com- 
 mandment : 
 
 " Thou shall have no other gods before me."
 
 CONCLUDING REMARKS OF THE DISCUSSION. 
 
 REJOINDER BY MR. W. M. SALTER. 
 
 Nothing but extreme pre-occupation has hindered my noticing 
 earlier Dr. Carus's replies to my comments on his book { The Ethical 
 Problem). I do not doubt his sincerity in wishing to come to an 
 understanding, and with this desire in my own mind I offer the fol- 
 lowing remarks. 
 
 Dr. Carus says that the Ethical teachers agree that what h« 
 calls the basis of ethics is not needed. Now all that we are agreed 
 about is that such a basis is not to be laid down as a necessary part 
 of the Ethical movement — as something to which all members of 
 the movement pledge themselves. But any individual in the move- 
 ment can hold to such a basis, can feel the need of it and even 
 maintain that without it there can be no rational ethics. This 
 opinion may be held ; the only requirement is that there shall be 
 tolerance of other opinions. If one does not feel that he can be- 
 long to a society with others who think differently (whether as to 
 the specific basis or as to the need of a basis in general) he of course 
 leaves the society — or does not join it in the first place. For ex- 
 ample, I myself believe that a true world-conception is of great 
 importance, though I could not call it " a basis of ethics," as Dr. 
 Carus does ; I am in search of such a conception, and what 
 elements of it I have already gained, those who hear me know ; 
 but I can respect others who are following different lines from my 
 own and am glad to call them my brothers in an ethical fellowship. 
 
 Dr. Carus says that the Ethical lecturers do not acknowledge 
 the ' reason why,' presented by orthodox theology. By this ' reason 
 why ' he means the will of God. But any of us might regard what- 
 ever is right as the will of God, if he chose to. The opinion of 
 any member to this effect we should have no right to challenge.
 
 CONCLUDING REMARKS OF DISCUSSION. 139 
 
 Basing the right on the will of God is, however, another matter ; 
 and I think Dr. Cams is unjust to orthodox theology in assuming 
 that it does so. Many are the theologians who regard God's will 
 as identical with what is right ; the few are those who regard God's 
 will as the author of it. Can Dr. Carus instance another theologian 
 of repute, besides Dymond, who did so ? There may, of course, 
 be others, but I do not happen to know of them. But even so ex- 
 treme an opinion we should not have the right to exclude, so long 
 as it did not injuriously influence actual conduct.* 
 
 Hence my own controversy with Dr. Carus will be hereafter 
 purely in my personal capacity. It would be thoughtlessness and ar- 
 rogance for me to allow all the windings, questionings, hesitancies, 
 affirmations of my own mind in a controversy like the present one 
 to be regarded as representative of the Ethical movement. In 
 speaking of the aim and nature of the Ethical fellowship, I do 
 speak for the movement and am answerable to it ; but in discuss- 
 ing questions of Ethical philosophy I speak solely for myself and 
 am answerable to no one. 
 
 Dr. Carus says that I know no 'reason why' for my moral 
 law (as he is pleased to term it), and that I imagine that to give a 
 reason why "would be not to explain but to degrade morality." 
 With all wish to be charitable, I cannot acquit Dr. Carus of a mis- 
 use of my language in this connection. A ' reason why ' in the 
 sense of an ultimate standard of right and wrong I have expressly 
 admitted to be necessary. But after the standard has been found 
 and, by the use of it, the right in a concrete case determined, the 
 question is sometimes asked, why should we do the right, which is 
 equivalent to asking why should our will be regulated by any 
 ' ought ' whatever ? My answer was that we should do the right 
 out of reverence for the right and it appears to me that Dr.Carus's 
 language implied the same view. ' Reason why ' is ambiguous ; 
 
 * Dr. Carus thinks that our societies should be called " Societies for Moral 
 Culture." I have sometimes thought that I should myself prefer such a 
 designation, simply because it sounds less technical. But Dr. Carus's dis- 
 tinction between morals and ethics appears to me arbitrary; no unthinking, 
 conventional, or merely reflex action can properly be called moral. Again, 
 Dr. Carus sees no need for our leaving the churches, in case it is duty simply 
 that we are concerned for, since the churches also are concerned for the same 
 thing. But is not Dr. Carus aware that almost no Christian church would re- 
 ceive a person to membership on the strength of a moral aim and purpose 
 alone, that besides this, requirement is maae of a confession in some theolog- 
 ical creed ?
 
 I40 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 it may refer to standard and it may refer to motive. A motive is 
 always, in one sense, a reason, but in a very different sense from 
 that in which a standard is a reason. A motive is a feeling, a de- 
 sire ; a standard is an object of thought. Now there is what I call 
 a properly moral motive — the desire to do what is right or to live 
 in harmony with one's reason or to obey one's highest thought ; 
 these are but different expressions for the same feeling. In its full- 
 ness the moral motive is beautifully expressed by George Eliot, in 
 her description of Dorothea {mMiddlemarck): "She yearned toward 
 the perfect right, that it might make a throne within her and rule 
 her errant will." Asking for another motive beyond the moral 
 motive practically means, what shall I gain by right action, what 
 selfish advantage shall I have from it ? — but action under such 
 motives is not moral action at all, and appealing to such motives 
 (i. e., furnishing such reasons) is not explaining morality, but de- 
 grading it. Hence Dr. Carus's language as to my ' mysticism ' is 
 wide of the mark. He thinks that like other enthusiasts, I regard 
 *' science and all close scrutiny with suspicion," and that " the re- 
 lentless dissections of an exact analysis appear as a sacrilege." I 
 am actually amused at these words ; for it is just the absence of 
 close scrutiny into his ideas and exact analysis of them that I 
 thought I observed in Dr. Carus. The clear distinction of things 
 that differ, the avoidance of vague and ambiguous language are 
 surely the first (or at least an indispensable) step towards the 
 scientific understanding of any subject. 
 
 This inexactness still appears in Dr. Carus's use of the term 
 ' ' Intuitionalism. " ' ' This view, " he says, " if it means anything, 
 means that the moral command comes to us in some unaccountable 
 way, mysteriously and directly from some sphere beyond." Not so. 
 Intuitionalism, as used by Professor Sidgwick (to whom Dr. Carus 
 refers and than whom there is no better authority) does not refer to 
 the source of the moral command at all, but to the immediate way 
 in which we are supposed to know that certain things are duties. 
 The obligation, to tell the truth, for example, is regarded by In- 
 tuitionalists as a matter of direct perception, not as an inference 
 or deduction from some other obligation. Intuitionalism is not 
 necessarily theological or supernaturalistic ; and on the other hand 
 utilitarianism even egoistic utilitarianism may be supernaturalistic, 
 as it was in the hands of Paley . Yes, the evolutionary theory of Dr. 
 Carus, if we give this name to the view that progress, and not 
 happiness, is the supreme end, is just as capable of being ultimately
 
 CONCLUDING REMARKS OF DISCUSSION. 141 
 
 iaterpreted in a theological or supernaturalistic manner ; the rule, 
 work for progress, for the development of human-soul life, may 
 be interpreted as a Divine command as readily as any other rule. 
 In fact, almost all the Ethical theories may be " intuitionalist " in 
 Dr. Carus's vague use of the term. 
 
 As to the distinction between Utilitarianism and Hedonism, I 
 acknowledge that Dr. Carus has the right to make it, if etymology 
 and not scientific usage are to determine such matters. The use- 
 ful and the pleasant are certainly two distinct conceptions. Utili- 
 tarianism has always said that the useful was determined by its re- 
 lation to the pleasant ; but abstractly speaking.anything is useful, 
 which serves an end, whatever that end may be. I have not called 
 myself a Utilitarian, but I have been accustomed to say that I 
 sympathized with Utilitarianism so far as it opposed the claim of 
 Intuitionalists to settle special duties by means of ready-made in- 
 tuitions ; but not in so far as it made happiness or pleasure(whether 
 individual or general) the final end. Practically, as I think Mr. 
 Hegeler was aware, I regard progress as a better standard than 
 happiness. Whether it be an ultimate standard is another ques- 
 tion, and I think it can hardly be that, since progress (if it be more 
 than mere movement) implies some idea of a goal in the direction 
 of which progress takes place. Utilitarianism, however, as every 
 moral theory worthy of the name, distinguishes between moral 
 goodness and material usefulness. Only a theory which sunk ethics 
 to the level of mechanics would fail to do this. Bentham himself 
 says : " Beneficence apart from benevolence is no virtue ; it is not 
 amoral quality — it belongs to a stock or stone, as well as to a hu- 
 man being." 
 
 Failure to think out the implications of what he says seems to 
 me to mark Dr. Carus's assertion that the stern facts of life teach 
 us what desires should be suppressed and what wishes should rule 
 supreme. I do not question the value of such experience as a 
 teacher — but all on one condition, namely, that we wish to live, 
 and more than that, that we wish others to live. Apart from such 
 a wish, immorality is as consistent with the " stern facts of life" 
 as morality. The fundamental problem of ethics is deeper than Dr. 
 Carus imagines; and it is because he does not seem to me to go to the 
 roots of things, that his ethics appear to be " something in the air." 
 So far as I can see, it is a purely hypothetical or conditional morality 
 that he gives us ; if, for example, we wish for health, he says in 
 substance we must regard the conditions of health — and aside
 
 i42 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 from such a wish obligation has no meaning. The facts are, of 
 course, the same whether we so wish or not ; I do not question that 
 many a "jovial companion" has been " buried in the bloom of 
 life." The real question is, was there any obligation upon such an 
 one to care for his life — not did he feel it or even could he be made 
 to feel it, but did it (the obligation) exist ? 
 
 Dr. Carus does not make a careful statement of my views as 
 to the absoluteness of morality. I do not say that conscience is 
 absolute. It appears to me necessary to distinguish between con- 
 science and the moral law, just as we do between science and the 
 facts and laws of which science takes cognizance. I fully admit 
 the " facts of an erring conscience" to which Dr. Carus alludes. 
 So physical science has varied and often erred in the past ; but 
 we do not therefore conclude that there have been no unvarying 
 physical laws. Why is it not possible to allow that conscience is 
 a development and by no means infallible, and yet hold that there 
 is an unvarying objective moral law ? The real absolute of moral- 
 ity is in the objective principles, not in conscience or the subjec- 
 tive sense of them. This I have brought out in the very lecture 
 from which Dr. Carus quotes, and which perhaps he had not time 
 to read to the end (vide pp. 94 to 10 r of Ethical Religion). Yet by 
 the moral law I have in mind something quite different from a 
 mere formulation of natural sequences (though I agree with Dr. 
 Carus in holding them to be necessary and unvarying) ; I mean a 
 commandment, a rule, an imperative — and the special moral rules 
 are so«many applications of the fundamental rule to the various 
 special departments and situations of life. I have recently given 
 my views on the important distinction between physical law and 
 moral law in The Neiv /deal (Boston), June and October. 
 
 Dr. Carus recognizes the distinction between the leading 
 principle m ethics and the philosophical view (J^f/^ ^ethics. He 
 however holds that such a leading principle must be derived from 
 the philosophical view. This, so far as the words go, is perfectly 
 clear and consistent. But before I can be sure of what they mean, 
 I feel that I need an illustration of how the derivation takes place. 
 It was because I thought that Dr. Carus would give us such an 
 illustration that I took up " The Ethical Problem " with such in- 
 terest. I have already recorded my disappointment ; since not 
 only did he not derive his ethics from his " monism," but he 
 classed monism as one of the many "thought-constructions of 
 theorizing philosophers," to which it was not wise for an ethical
 
 CONCLUDING REMARKS OF DISCUSSION. 143 
 
 movement to commit itself. If then, as Dr. Carus says, " without 
 a world-conception we can have no ethics," it is difficult to avoid 
 the conclusion that he has not given us any ethics himself. Will 
 be not try to show in what way the principle of " truthfulness" 
 or that of " the development of human soul-life " is to be derived 
 from Monism — that is, in what way different from that in which 
 it could be derived from Theism or from Materialism ? 
 
 As to the "ethical stimulus" in my own case, I have not the 
 slightest doubt, and acknowledge it reverently, that whatever I have 
 of it is largely due to the influences of home and of the religious 
 faith in which I was nurtured. But that faith did not include the 
 view that God was the author of right and wrong ; and so when 
 my theistic confidence was disturbed, the foundations of morality 
 were not shaken. The Divine will was one with whatever was 
 right, according to my early teaching — and such a view made it 
 perhaps easier to do the right, just as it is often easier for a child 
 to do some task, if the parent askes it ; but duty was not made to 
 rest on the Divine will. At bottom the faith in which I was brought 
 up was an ethical faith (just as prophetic Judaism was an ethical 
 faith). I mean that it was a view of the universe dominated by 
 ethical elements. Apart from the idea of a just, righteous and 
 loving God, this view would have had little ethical value and im- 
 parted little ethical stimulus. It was justice, righteousness, love 
 that had my central reverence, that have it still. 
 
 II. 
 ANSWER TO MR. SALTER BY DR. P, CARUS. 
 
 The basic difference between Mr. Salter's and our own posi- 
 tion will be pointed out in the Concluding Remarks to our dis- 
 cussion. I refrain here from answering Mr. Salter's reply in a 
 detailed exposition. Mr. Salter repeats his objections, and in or- 
 der to be explicit we should have to repeat the arguments set 
 forth in former articles. We shall confine ourselves to a few con- 
 cise remarks on six points: 
 
 i) We not only believe that 'a basis of ethics is needed,' but 
 also that it has to be laid down as a necessary part of any ethical 
 movement, that is started for preaching morals. No system of 
 morals can exist without a basis. And who will preach morals with- 
 out a clear and a systematic conception of ethics ? 
 
 2) Mr. Salter distinguishes between two theological concep- 
 tions the one " basing the right on the will of God ", the other re-
 
 144 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 garding " God's will as identical with what is right." The distinc- 
 tion appears to us irrelevant, and has no connection with our 
 present discussion. 
 
 3) Mr. Salter accuses me of a misuse of his language where I 
 refer to his speaking of ' the reason why ' of the moral law. 
 After a careful consideration of the case, I find that the misrepre- 
 sentation of Mr. Salter's view is entirely due to a lack of clearness 
 on his part. The passage in question runs as follows : 
 
 " In fact, Dr, Carus gives no ' reason why ' in the sense of a motive be- 
 yond the moral motive ; and is well aware that to do so would be not to ex- 
 plain but to degrade morality." 
 
 I interpreted this sentence in the light of another passage of 
 Mr. Salter's: 
 
 " Who can give a reason for the supreme rule ? Indeed, no serious man 
 wants a reason." 
 
 Mr. Salter in his present article explains the passage under 
 consideration in the following way : 
 
 " A ' reason why ' in the sense of an ultimate standard of right and wrong I 
 have expressly admitted to be necessary. But after the standard has been 
 formed — the question is sometimes asked, Why should we do the right ?" 
 etc. 
 
 What Mr. Salter understands by this second Why, which rises 
 
 after the first Why has been settled, he explains in this way : 
 
 " Asking for another motive beyond the moral motive practically means : 
 What shall I gain by right action, what selfish advantage shall I have from it?" 
 
 We admit that to ask the question " What selfish advantage 
 shall I have from ethics ? " would not be to explain but to degrade 
 morality. But v;e must confess that this idea never occurred to 
 us. Thus in the passage under consideration, we had no idea 
 that Mr. Salter could understand by ' reason why ' an exclusively 
 egoistic motive. If he meant that, he should have said so. With 
 all due appreciation of Mr. Salter's charitableness, we do not feel 
 the need of it, because we are confident that if there was any mis- 
 use of language, it was not made by us, and we are not to blame 
 for it. 
 
 Aside from the question of priority in the misuse of language, 
 the objection we have to make against Mr. Salter still holds 
 good, in so far as Mr. Salter maintains in other passages, especially 
 in his book, that there is no reason for the supreme rule in ethics. 
 He actually and repeatedly declines to derive the moral ought from 
 the facts of experience, and thus he imagines that that something 
 from which morality grows lies outside the pale of science.
 
 CONCLUDmC REMARKS OF DISCUSSION. 145 
 
 We maintain that no standard is ultimate. Every standard 
 of tight and wrong has to be derived from the facts of reality. 
 We investigate the laws of nature, of social development, of a 
 healthy evolution of the soul, and our standard of morality is 
 nothing more or less than conformity to these laws. 
 
 If the question is asked of a moral teacher, "Why should we 
 do the right," this in our mind can mean only, "Why should we 
 obey those rules which you lay down as right ?" 
 
 Mr. Salter says : " We should do the right out of reverence 
 for the right." Of course, we must have reverence for that which 
 we should do. That which we should do, must be regarded as 
 the highest we can think of. What we wish to do, must not be 
 suffered to be taken into consideration where it conflicts with that 
 which we should do. But considering the fact that v/e call that 
 which we should do " the right ", the prescript " to do the right 
 out of reverence for the right" appears from our standpoint, as 
 tautological. 
 
 4) I do not at all deny that the Intuitionalist considers conscience 
 as " a matter of direct perception"; yet at the same time I main- 
 tain that the Intuitionalist considers the moral sense, the ought, 
 duty, conscience, or whatever it may be called, as " a fundamental 
 notion, ultimate and unanalyzable ". This is the very expression 
 of Professor Sidgwick. Science, it is supposed, cannot analyze 
 conscience, it cannot explain its origin, and thus its existence 
 must remain a mystery to us. See Professor Sidgwick's latest 
 article on the subject, "Some Fundamental Ethical Controver- 
 sies "in Mind, October, 1889. 
 
 5) I read Mr. Salter's article " Obligation and the Sense of Ob- 
 ligation " in The Neiv Ideal, where he compares duty with the phys- 
 ical law. Mr. Salter fails to make a distinction between the ob- 
 jective moral law in Nature, on the one hand, which is a physical 
 law as much as gravitation, and duty on the other hand ; the latter 
 being the subjective formulation of our obligation to conform to 
 the moral law. Mr. Salter says : 
 
 " Duty is like gravitation in that it is objective and yet unlike it, in that 
 it (duty.i is an ideal, rule, or command, and not a necessarily acting force." 
 
 The question arises, What is objective and what is subjective 
 in duty. Mr. Salter says : 
 
 " The sense of obligation is just what appears to me to need to be clearly 
 distinguished from the reality of obligation itself."* 
 
 * The italics are Mr. Salter's own.
 
 146 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 This " reality of obligation itself " is an unclear idea ; yet I 
 find that it appears in Mr. Salter's book under different names 
 again and again. So long as Mr. Salter feels satisfied with this 
 idea, he will naturally think that the cause of all our differences lies 
 in a failure on my part to think out, as he says, the implications of 
 my assertion that ethics must be based on facts. Mr. Salter's 
 "reality of obligation itself" is a something that is not found 
 among and cannot be derived from facts.* 
 
 6) Mr. Salter again expresses his disappointment at my treat- 
 ment of the Ethical Problem. He says : 
 
 " Not only did he not derive his ethics from his ' Monism ' but he classed 
 Monism as one of the many ' thought-constructions of theorizing philosoph- 
 ers to which it was not wise for an ethical movement to commit itself."t 
 
 I have purposely avoided the terms "Positivism as well as 
 Monism " because it is not these particular " isms" we fight for, 
 but the ideas that generally go by these names. The word Mo- 
 nism can help nothing. It is not from a name that we expect sal- 
 vation. 
 
 It would be ridiculous to demand that our presentation of 
 Monism or of Positivism should be adopted either by the Ethical 
 Societies or by any one without critical examination. Accordingly 
 we class monism among those systems that have to be examined. 
 But we demand that certain truths be recognized which considered 
 as philosophical principles are generally known as positivism and 
 monism. Positive ethics I have briefly characterized as "the 
 principle of truthfulness." Truth is agreement with facts. We 
 must base our conduct unswervingly upon a correct conception of 
 facts. This implies on the one hand that we should shirk no effort, 
 trouble, or struggle to comprehend truth, and on the other hand 
 that we should never attempt to belie either ourselves or others. 
 The ethics of Monism urges us to heed the most important truth 
 in the realm of facts, namely, the oneness of all-existence. The ethics 
 of Monism teaches us to consider man as a part of the whole uni- 
 verse. The moral man aspires to conform to the All and to the 
 laws of the All ; he longs to be one with the power in which we 
 live and move and have our being. In obedience to this impulse 
 man's soul grows ; it becomes more and more a microcosm within 
 the macrocosm. 
 
 * For a further explanation see the end of the Concluding Remarks to our 
 discussion. 
 
 t My answer to this objection is given in the article : " The Moral Law 
 and Moral Rules," p. 117 supra.
 
 CONCLUDING REMARKS OF DISCUSSION. 147 
 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 Making a call of late on Mr. W. M. Salter, I enjoyed with 
 him a conversation, in which we tried to understand one another, 
 in order to arrive, if not at an agreement, yet at a clear statement 
 of our differences. Mr. Salter complained of my presentation of 
 the case, that I did not make distinctions which were necessary to 
 properly comprehend his position and that of the societies for 
 Ethical Culture. He did not object to "a basis of ethics." Whereupon 
 I said that the leaders of the Ethical Societies are perfectly right in 
 not wanting to pledge their members to any religious or philosophical 
 belief, yet they must themselves have a ground to stand on ; they 
 cannot preach ethics without a basis of ethics, for every ethical 
 rule is the expression of a world-conception. By implication then, 
 an ethical movement after all rests on a philosophical basis. 
 
 On my saying that the ethics of a spiritualist, of a materialist, 
 of a believer in theism, of an Agnostic, of a Christian, a Jew, a Mo- 
 hammedan and a Buddhist, actually differ, and that they must 
 differ, Mr. Salter replied that " it was true, they might differ, but it 
 was very possible that ivi Grossen inid Ganzen they might agree. 
 
 We take exception to this. Even the different denominations 
 of the same religion, for instance Protestants and Catholics, have 
 different ethics. I do not deny that certain ethical rules are re- 
 garded as binding by all the religious teachers of the world ; there 
 is a "common conscience," (to use Prof. Adler's term,) developing 
 in mankind, but is not this common conscience, so far as it is not 
 a mere incidental concurrence, the expression of a common world- 
 conception ? A common world-conception (viz., a positivism or a 
 systematized statement of the facts, founded upon scientific inves- 
 tigation) is preparing itself in humanity and together with it we 
 can observe the evolution of the ethics of positivism, viz., of ethics 
 in agreement with facts, an ethics that can be analyzed and com- 
 prehended by science. 
 
 But this kind of ethics (positive ethics) is found insufficient 
 by Mr. Salter. He maintains that the ethical problem lies deeper 
 than scientific inquiry can reach. " Granted that the knowledge 
 of facts is the basis of ethics," he said, " there is a basis below 
 this basis. In studying facts, we are influenced by a purpose ; 
 we have some end in view, and we study facts and conditions in 
 order that we may know how we shall attain that end. The deeper 
 question is, then, What is the true end ? And the bottom obliga-
 
 14S THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 tion is to regard and seek this end, when it is once rationally de- 
 termined. What are our matter-of-fact wishes is a secondary 
 matter." 
 
 Before answering the question as to this so-called deeper ob- 
 ligation I would ask and answer another question. What is 
 meant by " obligation ? " Obligation is simply a statement of ours ; 
 it is the formulation of facts for special practical purposes, very 
 appropriately put in the shape of a prescript. The obligation 
 formulated with reference to the facts of our existence, and the con- 
 ditions of our existence, is already the bottom obligation ; there is 
 not a second bottom beneath it. 
 
 In that case Mr. Salter says, "your ethical commands are hy- 
 pothetical ; they are conditioned by the wish to be in harmony 
 with society; the wish to be in conformity with the conditions 
 of nature ; the wish for life." 
 
 Certainly, the ethical rules are in this sense conditioned ; for 
 all we can say about the ethical ought is to state the facts as they 
 are : the man who does not care for being a useful member of so- 
 ciety, or who does not care for his physical, mental and moral 
 health, who does not care for going to the wall and whose actions 
 are expressions of this indifference, he will do harm to his fellow- 
 beings and he will be doomed to perdition. His soul so far as it is 
 possible will be blotted out, and his life will become a curse to 
 humanity. These are the facts and the moral ought is a state- 
 ment of such and kindred facts for pastoral purposes, or as a help 
 for self-education. 
 
 Here, it appears, lies the ultimate divergency between Mr. Sal- 
 ter's view and our view. Mr. Salter finds, or believes he finds, an 
 obligation of absolute authority beyond facts and beyond the realm 
 of science. We cannot see that an obligation outside of the pro- 
 vince of positive facts, the obligation of an absolute authority has 
 any meaning. 
 
 This ethical view will naturally appear to him who holds it, 
 deeper than positivism and broader than monism. To the monist 
 however it must appear dualistic, to the positivist metaphysical, 
 to the man of natural science, supernatural. The former stand- 
 point recognizes a profundity where the latter finds a vagary.
 
 THE OUGHT AND THE MUST. 
 
 EY JOHN MADDOCK. 
 
 Dr. Carus, in his book on the ethical problem, truth- 
 fully states that "ethics must have a basis to rest 
 upon." What is true of everything else in the uni- 
 verse is true of ethics — there is a foundation for ethics. 
 As there is but one basis for all things from the stand- 
 point of monism, moral fruit has the same basis as 
 material fruit. If the tree is good, its fruit is good. 
 But the basis of the fruit is not the tree; neither is the 
 basis of morals the man. The basis of both is that 
 subtle power which resides in every atom, in every 
 form. Both are rooted in the "All." Morals are not 
 acquired, they are evolved ; and to affirm to this truth 
 is to establish the doctrine of Monism upon a scienti- 
 fic basis. 
 
 The conflicting ideas which are expressed upon the 
 ethical subject are caused by not reasoning from the 
 right premise. Philosophers have reasoned from the 
 tree instead of the root. All things in nature are the 
 results of certain combinations. Material fruit is the 
 result of the combined influences of the rain, the earth, 
 the sun, and the specific nature of the tree. All these 
 have their roots in natural law. Moral fruit is the re- 
 sult of the combined influences of the Church, the 
 State, and the intelligence and power of the individual ; 
 and all these have their roots in natural law — in the
 
 150 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 "All," they all proceed from one. There are different 
 influences exerted in and upon men, but they are 
 maintained by the same power, so that no man can 
 boast of his morality any more than the vine can boast 
 of its grapes. "Ought" is not the word from the 
 standpoint of evolution and monism ; whatever de- 
 gree of moral quality is in a man, he must express it 
 according to the combination of organism and environ- 
 ment. 
 
 There is no alternative ; the laws of nature make 
 no mistakes. With the basis of fire and gunpowder we 
 have nothing to do, but we can play a part in the 
 combination of an explosion when some circumstance 
 demands it. So of ethics ; we have nothing to do 
 with the basis, but we become a part of the combina- 
 tion for moral evolution when we are consigned by 
 natural law to our specific places. We do not bear 
 the root, but the root bears us. The hands of the 
 clock do not move the works, but the works move the 
 hands. From the standpoint of evolution and mon- 
 ism, we stand in the same relation to the "All," as 
 the hands do to the works of a clock. 
 
 Monism and evolution must not be confounded by 
 separating man from the universe, and giving him 
 self-determining power. This may do for religion, but 
 it will not do for science. By religion man has been 
 condemned ; by science he is justified. Ethical so- 
 cieties are not possible [except] when a number of 
 persons desire to organize for the purpose of creating 
 an environment in which they will enjoy themselves 
 the most, and influence one another to "live justly and 
 walk uprightly." The best people, therefore, will be 
 found there. Instead of artificial morality — the pro- 
 duct of the whip and threat of religion — there will be
 
 THE OUGHT AND THE MUST. 151 
 
 real, natural morality according to the principles of 
 science. 
 
 The basis of an ethical society is a number of good 
 people, and the basis of good people is the powerful 
 "All" which reigns in all things. As a safe cannot be 
 unlocked until the right combination is found, so ethi- 
 cal societies will not be in a flourishing condition until 
 the natural combination is complete. There must be 
 affirmation ; due credit must be given to the power in 
 the universal "All." Scientifiic affirmation must take 
 the place of the superstitious.
 
 THE OUGHT AND THE MUST. 
 
 Science knows of no arbitrariness in nature ; science 
 meets with dire necessity everywhere. Indeed, science 
 is possible only in so far as the laws of nature are ir- 
 refragable and immutable. 
 
 The scientist who makes the facts of human moral- 
 ity the object of his investigation, can make no excep- 
 tion. He also must recognize the rigidity of law in 
 the actions of man, and if he does not, he is no scien- 
 tist. 
 
 Suppose there were no law in human action, but 
 arbitrary irregularity, so that the same motives affect- 
 ing the sam.e character under exactly the same cir- 
 cumstances need not result (as from the standpoint of 
 science we must assume that they do) in a definite 
 action, or the inhibition of an action, but might pro- 
 duce results entirely undeterminable even to an om- 
 niscient spectator who knew every secret spring, every 
 cog and wheel in the soul-mechanism of man : Sup- 
 pose there existed any freedom of will in the sense of 
 such an arbitrariness (a view which is generally called 
 indeterminism) : in that case, there would be no 
 science of morality ; ethics as a science would be an 
 impossibility. But if science is true and if monism, 
 the unitary conception of the world is true, man's ac- 
 tivity can form no exception in the great household of 
 nature. Man also must be considered as a part of 
 nature, and man's activity, his moral actions no less
 
 THE OUGHT AND THE MUST. 153 
 
 than his immoral actions, as strictly determined by 
 law. 
 
 Mr. Maddock (taking his standpoint on the ground 
 of science, which is strict determinism,) is perfectly 
 justified in declaring that ''we do not bear the root, 
 but the root bears us. The hands of the clock do not 
 move the works, but the works the hands." 
 
 Accepting the principle of determinism as correct, 
 must we at the same time accept Mr. Maddock' s con- 
 clusion that ^' ought is not the word • . . ; whatever 
 degree of moral quality is in a man, he ifiiist express 
 it according to the combination of organism and en- 
 vironment." 
 
 Nature's laws are rigid. The crystal forms itself, 
 if no disturbing influences interfere, with minutely ex- 
 act regularity. And furthermore, every disturbing in- 
 fluence alters the formation of the crystal in exact 
 agreement with law. This is no exception to the law, 
 it is a confirmation of it. The evolution of feeling 
 beings is also regulated by law. The development of 
 the soul of mankind shows the same necessity of natural 
 law as does the formation of a crystal, and every dis- 
 turbing influence affects the growth of humanity with 
 precisely the same regularity as in the lower domains 
 of natural processes. Man has become a rational being 
 of necessity — of the very same unavoidable necessity 
 by which, for instance, the shape of the fixed stars 
 and their planets becomes spheroidal. 
 
 Having become a rational being man can compre- 
 hend his situation, he can understand the laws of na- 
 ture, and with the help of his knowledge of the laws 
 of nature, he can forecast the result of processes that 
 take place around him. The knowledge man acquires 
 thus becomes the most important factor of his ex-
 
 154 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 istence ; and the great advantages which accrue to man 
 from making a more and more extensive use of knowl- 
 edge, become a stimulus to develop strongly the ten- 
 dency of obeying the rational advice which we can de- 
 rive from experience. It is knowledge which discloses 
 to man that in his individual existence he is only a 
 part of a greater whole, and that he individually can 
 live and prosper only when the community to which he 
 belongs is in a state of health. The life of human so- 
 ciety carries and nourishes the life of the individual ; 
 the part derives its existence from the whole, as the 
 single cells of our body are sustained so long as the 
 whole organism is vigorous and healthy. Knowledge 
 accordingly creates the ought, and the ought is nothing 
 that supersedes or stands in contradiction to the must; 
 it is a comprehension of the must, and this compre- 
 hension finds expression in the ethical command of an 
 ought. The formulation of the ought accordingly is in 
 the course of nature the necessary result of comprehen- 
 sion becoming a factor in the further development of 
 man. 
 
 The must of nature is not suspended by the ought ; 
 yet it is utilised. The curse only that under unfavor- 
 able conditions attaches to the must, is taken away. 
 Man as a rational being, learns to avoid the disturbing 
 influences in the formation of his soul, and human so- 
 ciety can attain to a higher perfection. The ought of 
 ethics accordingly must be based upon the must of 
 science. A careful investigation of the is will give us in- 
 formation about the is to be. The ethical teacher on the 
 ground of his comprehension of the is to be, formulates 
 the stimulus working in the right and desirable direc- 
 tion in the moral command of the ought, and raises his 
 warning voice to call attention to the evil consequences
 
 THE OUGHT AND THE MUST. 155 
 
 of any disturbing influences that may unfavorably af- 
 fect the pure formation of the is to be. 
 
 It is in this sense that we declare, <' Ethics must 
 be based* on facts and must be applied to facts." The 
 ought can be stated only on the ground of a careful 
 consideration of the must. The ought stands not in 
 contradiction to the ?nust, but it expresses the must as 
 the is to be in its purity, if the disturbing influences 
 are avoided. 
 
 The preaching of the ought has become a factor in 
 the development of mankind, and the better we un- 
 derstand its nature the more effective will the factor 
 of ethical aspirations be. 
 
 Man's morals are not acquired, as Mr. Maddock 
 says, they are evolved. It is true, that " from the 
 standpoint of evolution and monism, we stand in the 
 same relation to the All, as the hands do to the works 
 of a clock." Yet the simile is insufficient in one re- 
 spect. The hands produce no reaction upon the works ; 
 they cannot regulate its movement. With reference 
 to this ability, man must be compared to the regula- 
 tor ; for man, although evolved in nature as a part of 
 nature, does react upon the natural conditions under 
 which he has been evolved. He modifies, not the or- 
 der of nature, not the laws of nature, but the state of 
 nature by which he is surrounded. 
 
 The moral ought is the regulator in the mechan- 
 ism of the human soul ; and our ethical institutions, 
 our schools and churches form the regulator in the 
 clockwork of society. 
 
 The moral ought does as little demohsh or over- 
 
 * Mr. Maddock says : "The basis of an ethical society is a number of good 
 people." We prefer to call a number of good people, viz., people whose in- 
 ention is that of being good, the elements of an ethical society.
 
 156 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 come the principle of determinism as the regulator in 
 a clock anihilates the irrefragability of mechanical 
 laws. 
 
 Ethics demands obedience to the moral law, but 
 this obedience is no servitude ; it is rather a liber- 
 ation from the evils of immoral action. If in an im- 
 pulse of anthropomorphism so natural to man, he rep- 
 resents the must of natural law as a stern ruler and 
 an inexorable master, he will symbolize his ethical 
 impulse in the idea of a Savior and a Redeemer who 
 leads him out of the house of bondage into a state 
 of freedom. 
 
 Freedom in the sense of arbitrary action undeter- 
 mined by law has no sense. If freedom means any- 
 thing, it means the victory of the rational stimulus 
 over the irrational impulses, so that the curse of the 
 must is changed into a blessing. The law, being com- 
 prehended, becomes a part of ourselves, and the man 
 in whom the ought of ethics has become the supreme 
 rule of action, which controls all his motives ; the 
 moral man alone is the truly free man. Being in har- 
 mony with the law, he ceases to be the slave of ne- 
 cessity. Ethics is manumission, and the ethical man 
 feels himself not a serf but a child of nature, as Paul 
 says in his letter to the Galatians : 
 
 "We are not the children of the bond woman, but of the 
 free."
 
 LEADING PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS. 
 
 BY F. M. HOLLAND. 
 
 The declaration of the editor of Tlie Open Court, (see 
 supra p. Ill,) that "The leading principle of ethics 
 must always be the expression of a conception of the 
 world," is so true and important, that I wish to indi- 
 cate what sort of a conception is needed for this great 
 purpose. And I am particularly glad to take up the 
 subject in a paper whose editor holds with me, that 
 the true test, which is to enable us to tell what is right 
 or wrong, must be sought in the idea of usefulness, 
 rather than in that of pleasure. 
 
 It has seemed to me for many years that Utili- 
 tarians, while doing much to place moral laws upon a 
 firm scientific basis, above all vagaries of individual 
 caprice and vicissitudes of sectarian dogma, have at- 
 tributed far too much ethical value to man's desire for 
 pleasure and happiness. The tramp would say, "I 
 am much more happy than if I were hard at work ; 
 and I make no one less happy, for people like to be 
 generous." The lazy and licentious savages on the 
 Sandwich Islands seemed perfectly happy. Who of 
 us would follow all the ways to make ourselves hap- 
 pier, which our neighbors would recommend ? The 
 cannibal's happiness is not like the missionary's ; 
 neither is the book-worm's like the prize-fighter's; nor 
 the school-boy's like his grand-mother's ; nor the art
 
 158 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 critic's like the trapper's ; nor the rake's like the phil- 
 anthropist's. Human ideas of happiness differ so 
 widely, that it is as hard to bring them together into 
 one theory as to make a rope out of sand. 
 
 * * 
 
 The Utilitarians are right, however, in looking for 
 the leading moral principle in the relations of man to 
 man. Whatever duties the individual has towards 
 himself and towards the lower animals, are included 
 in those moral laws which originate in his relations to 
 other human beings. This is proved by such facts as 
 that, "moral" and ''ethical" are derived from the 
 Greek and Latin words for "customary." The same 
 is the case with the word translated "just" and 
 "righteous" in the New Testament ; "justice" comes 
 from the Sanskrit verb "yu" to "bind," and "right" 
 from the Aryan verb "rag," or "rak," to "make 
 straight"; "virtuous" originally meant "manly," 
 "honest," "honorable," and "wicked" "like a witch". 
 Morality got not only its name, but its power from 
 the fact that men have insisted on its observance from 
 the beginning, as the necessary condition of social ex- 
 istence. 
 
 Men and women cannot exist except in society ; 
 and society cannot exist without some observance of 
 moral laws. Any community would go to pieces, if 
 the members did not respect each others' rights, re- 
 lieve each others' necessities, and abstain from pro- 
 voking each others' passions. Thus justice, benevo- 
 lence, and self-control are conditions of social exist- 
 ence ; and thus they become primary virtues, which 
 all men and women desire to have practiced towards 
 them, and which they know they ought to practice 
 themselves. As Leslie Stephens says, {Science of Ethics,
 
 LEADING PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS. 159 
 
 chapter viii, sec. 39,) "The moral law being, in brief, 
 conformity to the conditions of social welfare, con- 
 science is the name of the intrinsic motives to such 
 conformity." I might add that both the strength and 
 the disinterestedness of conscience may be readily ac- 
 counted for, when we consider how long these condi- 
 tions of social existence have been observed, and how 
 earnestly their observance has been insisted upon by 
 
 priests, heads of families, and other rulers. 
 
 * 
 * * 
 
 What I wish particularly to point out, however, is 
 that the idea of social existence, while having the ad- 
 vantage of being more definite than that of happiness, 
 labors with it under the disadvantage of insufficiency. 
 It is correct as far as it goes ; but it does not go far 
 enough to furnish all the highest moral ideas. The 
 suppression of tramps and drunkards has not been 
 found absolutely necessary for the preservation of so- 
 cial existence, even in the United States ; and the na- 
 tives of the Sandwich Islands might have kept up their 
 filthy habits for thousands of years, without dying out. 
 It is easier to point out this difficulty than to remove 
 it , but I hope I shall be able at least to suggest a 
 method of solution. 
 
 These natives, and other savages, are actually dy- 
 ing out ; and the reason is that they cannot stand 
 competition with races which are more faithful to what 
 I would call conditions of social progress. I mean, in 
 the first place, such advanced forms of justice, benev- 
 olence, and self-control as go beyond the mere re- 
 quirements of social existence, and improve perpetual- 
 ly under the stimulus of competition. Thus, civilized 
 nations recognize sobriety and veracity as necessary 
 parts of self-control and justice ; and benevolence has
 
 t6o THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 but recently been so far enlarged as to include human- 
 ity to lower animals. Not even agnostics doubt, aa 
 
 Paul did, whether men have duties towards oxen. 
 
 * 
 
 * * 
 
 In the second place, I mean some moral ideas 
 which are of later origin than the three primitive ones, 
 but almost as old as human history. Here I would place 
 chastity, patriotism, and physical culture, qualities 
 which have done much to make one community more 
 fit to survive than another, ever since competition be- 
 gan. The advantage of having little children cared 
 for carefully is so great as to cause all nations that 
 have risen above barbarism to insist on matrimonial 
 fidelity ', and the tendency of unchastity to weaken 
 virtue and encourage vice has been fully recognized 
 by Christianity. This religion did not pay so much 
 respect as its predecessors to patriotism or physical 
 culture, but modern thought insists that care for health 
 and love of country are as necessary for individual per- 
 fection as for social progress. 
 
 * 
 
 * * 
 
 The third and highest group of virtues is peculiar- 
 ly modern, except in so far as two of its members, 
 mental culture and love of personal liberty, were ex- 
 alted in pagan Athens to a place which they lost after 
 the establishment of Christianity. All that can be said 
 of their value, in promoting chastity, patriotism, phy- 
 sical culture, self-control, justice, and benevolence, is 
 equally true of another great virtue, whose importance 
 has been sadly ignored by teachers of religion and 
 morality. Study of the tendency of indolence and ex- 
 travagance to produce crime, and of the aid given by 
 industry, economy, foresight, and enterprise to the 
 development of qualities universally acknowledged to
 
 LEADING PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS. i6i 
 
 be highly virtuous, justifies my giving thriftiness 
 a place among our most sacred duties. All other 
 virtues have become easier and commoner, as life has 
 been made more comfortable than ever before, espec- 
 ially for the poor. These latter now enjoy comforts 
 and luxuries which were, until recently, beyond their 
 reach; and this gain is due, partly to other men's in- 
 creasing thriftiness, and partly to the help given them 
 by practical philanthropists. Philanthropy differs 
 from benevolence in requiring the assistance of men- 
 tal culture. Love of liberty, thrift, mental culture, and 
 philanthropy characterize our most advanced civiliza- 
 tion, and guarantee future progress. And by progress 
 I mean movement from the primitive condition of 
 mankind toward our present civilization and thence 
 onward in the same direction.
 
 A TEST OF CONDUCT. 
 
 BY F. M. HOLLAND. 
 
 In a previous article I tried to show that a practi- 
 cable and accurate test, to show what is right or wrong, 
 may be found in the conditions of social existence and 
 progress. In other words, I hold that actions which 
 tend to help mankind to exist and advance are morally 
 right, that those which tend to destroy the existence 
 of our race, or even to check its progress, are morally 
 wrong, and that those which have no tendency either 
 way, are neither right nor wrong. Motives, of course, 
 are virtuous or vicious, according as they are meant 
 to produce actions by which social progress is pro- 
 moted or checked ; no action which does not proceed 
 from virtuous motives can be right ; but an act which 
 is so prompted may be morally wrong, as is the case 
 with persecution, not to mention other conscientious 
 errors which will soon be pointed out. 
 
 Calling this test practicable does not mean that it 
 ought to be substituted for conscience as a daily guide. 
 When conscience bids us be generous, chaste, or 
 honest, it is morally safer, as a rule, for us to obey 
 promptly and disinterestedly, than for us to sit down 
 to calculate the probability that this particular action 
 will prove conducive or detrimental to social progress.
 
 A TEST OF CONDUCT 163 
 
 And so, when I want to know what time it is, I usually 
 prefer looking at my watch, to making the journey 
 necessary to consult a clock regulated by the Cam- 
 bridge Observatory. When I happen to pass such a 
 clock, however, I am very glad to see whether my 
 watch differs from it ; and I always know which is in 
 the wrong. So if we feel any doubt whether we ought 
 to feed a tramp, or help wreck a liquor saloon, or re- 
 sist force with force, or take a vow of celibacy, we 
 cannot be sure that we are acting virtuously, unless 
 we choose some guide less subject to be perverted by 
 passion and prejudice, than conscience. 
 
 The test I propose does not justify the encourage- 
 ment of mendicancy by thoughtless charity, or the 
 wanton disturbance of the public peace. It permits 
 both nations and individuals to defend themselves ; 
 but it condemns wars of conquest, as likely not only 
 to retard the general progress, but to curse the con- 
 querors with retaliation from abroad and despotism at 
 home. 
 
 Thus this test shows its accuracy by censuring 
 nothing universally acknowledged to be virtuous, and 
 sanctioning nothing generally considered vicious. What 
 I claim most confidently for it, is its capacity to furnish 
 a full code of duties. As I repeat the list already 
 given, I will try to arrange them in the order justified 
 by their fitness to promote social progress. And first, 
 should come a virtue which has been insisted upon by 
 all rulers and teachers from the very beginning, which 
 is still required peremptorily of all the members of so- 
 ciety, and which has also the peculiar merit of not 
 being liable to excess. All this is true of no virtue but 
 justice. 
 
 The only danger about recognizing the rights of
 
 i64 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Others is that of faihng to do so i\x\\y. If I give my 
 neighbor more than his due, I act unjustly towards 
 myself or some other member of society. Whatever 
 is just is obligatory ; and whatever is not just is un- 
 just. 
 
 In the same way, when we enlarge the definition 
 of justice so far as to include veracity, we find not only 
 that whatever is not true is under condemnation be- 
 cause it is false, but also that, when I tell my neigh- 
 bor all he is entitled to hear, and nothing more, I 
 comply fully with the requirements of social progress, 
 as well as with those of the law of justice. 
 
 It may be noticed that I agree more closely with 
 ancient than modern moralists, in placing justice above 
 benevolence ; but I am inclined to think that this last 
 virtue is so liable to be carried to excess that it ought 
 to stand lower than justice, though among other du- 
 ties which are constantly obligatory on all the mem- 
 bers of society, within the limits marked out by the 
 conditions of social progress. 
 
 Thriftiness is so liable to be carried to excess, that it 
 has been regarded with little favor by Christian moral- 
 ists ; and its cultivation ought to be kept in strict and 
 constant subordination to that of justice. It must, how- 
 ever, be remembered that one of the most uniform 
 characteristics of criminals is incapacity for success 
 in business or even for steady work, and also that 
 thrifty nations have been highly virtuous in all other 
 respects, as well as very successful in making progress. 
 The states in our own Union which have a peculiarly 
 industrious, frugal, and enterprising population can 
 show the largest amount of benevolence, patriotism, 
 and scholarship, as well as the smallest taint of law- 
 lessness, dishonesty, drunkenness unchastity, and
 
 A TEST OF CONDUCT. 165 
 
 Other gross vice. An honest and thrifty nation, family, 
 or individual, is so much more likely than a thriftless 
 one to be virtuous, and not vicious, that I should 
 place thriftiness second in the scale of duties ; while 
 the danger of excess will be sufficiently guarded against 
 by keeping justice high above it, and giving the next 
 below to benevolence, a virtue absolutely necessary to 
 social progress, if only to provide adequate care for 
 young or temporarily disabled members of society. 
 
 This reason also makes the maintenance of the 
 family tie so important, that we may give the fourth 
 place to chastity, which has the farther advantage of 
 greatly promoting the culture of all other good quali- 
 ties. This last is also true of the kindred virtue, self- 
 control, especially when we define it as including tem- 
 porance. 
 
 Having thus filled five places, we must certainly 
 give the next one to physical culture. Utter neglect 
 of this duty would soon make it impossible to practise 
 any other; and it is hardly necessary to say that 
 healthy people are generally much more thrifty, be- 
 nevolent, honest, patriotic, intelligent, fond of liberty, 
 and capable of self-control than invalids are. The 
 care now given by civilized governments to make all 
 the surroundings of daily life healthy, for the poor as 
 well as the rich, ensures not only rapid progress in 
 civilization, but steady moral improvement. 
 
 Then last come duties which are not required of all 
 the members of societ}^ but are highly obligatory on 
 those men and women who are capable of performing 
 them. Here, in order of relative importance, may be 
 placed love of liberty, mental culture, patriotism, and 
 philanthropy. All four are very liable to be carried to 
 excess ; and their manifestation should be carefully re-
 
 i66 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 stricted by the claims of higher duties, especially jus- 
 tice. 
 
 First among these four, I put love of liberty, be- 
 cause lack of this virtue was the main cause of the 
 decay of classic civilization. The capacity of vigorous 
 rulers to promote social progress, and the liability of 
 anarchy to check it, are so great as often to cause the 
 establishment of despotism ; but this has always been 
 found, sooner or later, to be incompatible with further 
 progress. The most highly advanced communities 
 need most to have their influential members love liberty 
 with a zeal ever on the watch against oppression. 
 
 Mental culture seems to be somev/hat less impor- 
 tant, and not so necessary as physical culture, self-con- 
 trol, and other qualities which must always be added 
 in order to make it permanently useful, and which 
 have proved extremely beneficial where it has been 
 utterly lacking. I cannot insist too strongly on the 
 fact that the life and strength of society lies mainly in 
 its thrifty, honest, and healthy members. All its mem- 
 bers ought to do their utmost to belong in this class ; 
 but all cannot be scholars, patriots, or philanthropists. 
 
 Patriotism is much more generally obligatory at 
 election times in this country than during the rest of 
 the year ; and there are many countries which scarcely 
 permit its manifestation in time of peace, as well as 
 some rulers who give it no opportunity of legitimate 
 exercise, except in insurrection. Those of our own 
 citizens who are constantly in charge of our national 
 interests are under so great moral responsibility, that 
 patriotism rises for them to a very high place in the 
 rank of duties. 
 
 The same may be said of philanthropy for the few 
 who are able to practice it successfully ; but it must
 
 A TEST OF CONDUCT. 167 
 
 be remembered that this requires not merely wealtli, 
 leisure, and earnestness, but also sound judgment, 
 high business capacity, and thorough acquaintance, 
 not only with the evils actually existing in society, but 
 with the actual working in times past of various insti- 
 tutions and reforms. There are few ways in which 
 one can do so much good as in philanthropy, or so 
 much mischief. 
 
 Those who ignore the claims of justice, self-control, 
 thriftiness, love of liberty, and mental culture, cannot 
 attempt philanthropy except to its discredit and to the 
 public injury. There is no space left to dwell on what 
 may be done by wise and just philanthropists, espe- 
 cially in diminishing poverty, which has been danger- 
 ously increased by thoughtless and lavish benevolence. 
 Highest in honor among the men and women who 
 carry society onwards and upwards are these philan- 
 thropists.
 
 A CRITICISM BY PROF. FRIEDRICH JODL. 
 
 In your work " The Ethical Problem " I have read 
 much with the heartiest approval, and with admiration 
 of your frequently so happy, popular style of expres- 
 sion. Other things there were, however, that neither 
 met my approval, nor were intelligible to me. 
 
 As the two points in your views with respect to 
 which this was most the case, let me cite your polem- 
 ical attitude towards Hedonism, and your reference to 
 nature as a moral standard. What you oppose as 
 Hedonism may deserve, indeed, your attacks ; but I 
 know of no author since La Rochefoucauld and Hel- 
 vetius that has advocated such a hedonism. 
 
 The principle of general welfare as a criterion of 
 the ethical value of character and acts, has, so far as I 
 can see, been entirely neglected by your criticism. 
 And how we can hope to overcome the old orthodox 
 conception of ethics, without representing the new 
 scientific ethics as eudemonism, I do not know. Let 
 man, in his most virtuous conduct and in his most 
 heroic acts, seek his happiness, on condition only that 
 it take place in a manner and with means that are 
 qualified also to promote the happiness of others. 
 The whole question simply is, to teach men to seek 
 happiness in the right way. Happiness itself need 
 not therefore be eliminated from their thoughts. And 
 this conscious striving after happiness is the very
 
 A CRITICISM BY PROF. FRIED RICH JODL. 169 
 
 characteristic also that distinguishes human conduct 
 from all natural phenomena. Nature is wholly dis- 
 regardful of individuals ; she merely creates, pro- 
 duces in the greatest possible abundance, and thus 
 maintains herself in equilibrium. What sacrifices this 
 may cost, the destruction caused by it, is of no con- 
 sequence. Her procedure is the type of what we may 
 characterize as colossally brutal immorality. But her 
 human victims gradually came to speech and thought : 
 the whole history of morality is to me nothing but a 
 growth of nature out and beyond itself, an aspiration 
 to replace natural laws by the laws of rational will, to 
 win for every living being his rights to put into the 
 blind-mechanical play of natural forces the soul of a 
 purpose — eudemonism. How much have we already 
 won, how much yet remains ? Reason and will, how- 
 ever, are still too feeble, we still copy too much "our 
 good mother nature," confide ourselves only too will- 
 ingly to her guidance, and we constantly have to ex- 
 perience that what she wants and what we want are 
 two wholly different things. 
 
 There are many passages in my Geschichte der 
 Ethik which represent my views perhaps more pre- 
 cisely and fully than I have done here. Yet I state 
 them here again, because our common cause, it seems 
 to me, demands unity on this very point.
 
 IN ANSWER TO PROFESSOR JODL 
 
 Prof. Friedrich Jodl advances two points in 
 which he cannot agree with the views presented in 
 The Ethical Problon. First he criticises my polemical 
 attitude towards Hedonism, and secondly he declares 
 that Nature cannot be considered as a moral standard. 
 Concerning the latter point, I have to say that the de- 
 meanor of Nature (if we use the poetical licence of per- 
 sonifying her) cannot be and I suppose never has 
 been proposed as a model for imitation. Nature is 
 neither moral nor immoral, but Nature and Nature's 
 laws are that immutable power conformity to which 
 makes man moral. In this sense alone can Nature be 
 said to be the moral standard, and ethics must be 
 grounded upon our knowledge of Nature. 
 
 What we say of Nature holds good also for the 
 theological conception of that power in which we live 
 and move and have our being. There is no pleading 
 with God (Job i6, 21); no entering into judgment with 
 him (Job 34, 23) ; no multiplying words against him 
 (Job 34, 37). The apostle says: "O man, who art 
 thou that repliest against God ? Shall the thing formed 
 say to him that formed it. Why hast thou made me 
 thus?" In short God is neither moral nor immoral ; 
 he is the standard of morality. It would be a poetical 
 licence to speak of God as being moral, for morality is
 
 IN ANSWER TO PROFESSOR JODL. 171 
 
 obedience to his commands, or conformity to his im- 
 mutable will. 
 
 Professor Jodl says: 
 
 "The whole history of morality is to me nothing but a growth 
 of Nature out and beyond itself ; an aspiration to replace natural 
 laws by the laws of rational will." 
 
 It appears that Professor Jodl has a different con- 
 ception of Nature from what we have. I see no pos- 
 sibility of replacing natural laws or growing beyond 
 Nature. Says Shakespeare: 
 
 " Yet nature is made better by no mean, 
 But nature makes that mean ; so, over that art. 
 Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art. 
 That nature makes 
 
 This is an art 
 
 Which does mend nature— change, rather ; but 
 The art itself is nature \"— Winter's Tale. 
 
 Concerning our objections to Hedonism, Professor 
 Jodl says : 
 
 "How we can hope to overcome the old orthodox conception 
 of ethics without representing the new and scientific ethics as 
 eudemonism, I do not know." 
 
 This passage corroborates my conviction that he- 
 donism and utilitarianism were put forth in opposi- 
 tion to the old orthodox conception of ethics, which 
 declares that the ethical motive in man, conscience or 
 the sense of duty, is of supernatural origin. The ortho- 
 dox as well as their antagonists believe that the pur- 
 suit of happiness alone is natural ; the natural man 
 seeks pleasure and shuns pain. The presence of 
 higher motives, accordingly, is considered by the or- 
 thodox believer as a proof of supernaturalism, while 
 his adversary feels constrained to deny their existence. 
 
 It appears to me that the old orthodox conception 
 of ethics (religious ethics) contains a truth which the
 
 172 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 hedonistic ethics (irreligious ethics) does not contain. 
 The old orthodox conception of ethics, although rep- 
 resented in mythological allegories, is nevertheless 
 based upon the facts of life. It has grown naturally ; 
 and its main mistake is that it represents some natural 
 facts the origin of which it did not understand, as 
 supernatural interferences; it misinterprets facts; it 
 has not as yet developed from the phase of a belief in 
 magic into a scientific conception, 
 
 Hedonistic ethics, on the other hand, must appear 
 as artificial. It represents ethics as eudemonology, 
 i. e. the science of attaining the greatest possible 
 maximum of pleasure over pain, and it goes on to ex- 
 plain that the peace of soul following the perform- 
 ance of duty is a satisfaction much greater than all the 
 pleasures of the world. True, but it is this kind of 
 explanation which appears artificial to me. 
 
 Brutus condemned his sons to death and had them 
 executed, because he considered it as his duty. We 
 may doubt whether it really was his duty, but he 
 certainly did it because he considered it as his duty; 
 and who will deny that it was a most painful duty 
 which gave pleasure to nobody and contributed noth- 
 mg to the general happiness of Rome ; it only tended 
 to preserve that spirit of Roman sternness which made 
 the Romans fit not only to conquer but also to rule the 
 world, and to evolve for the first time in history an in- 
 ternational code of laws and a standard of justice. 
 The Romans suffered much from the impulse natural 
 to them ; and I am inclined to believe that they never 
 attained a greater happiness than other nations. If 
 happiness is the ultimate test of morality, Cyrene was 
 superior in morality to Sparta, and Sybaris to Athens. 
 
 Can we say that the Spartans, or the Romans were
 
 IN ANSWER TO PROFESSOR JODL. 173 
 
 prompted in their actions by a desire for pleasure, that 
 sternness was a pleasure to them ? I should say that 
 we cannot. Is the fighting cock impelled to fight by 
 a desire for pleasure, and does the pleasure of fighting 
 really outweigh in his opinion the pains of his wounds 
 and the fear of danger when confronted with superior 
 enemies ? It appears to me that in animals as well as 
 in man there are many impulses the motives of which 
 rise from the nature, from the character of the creature, 
 which cannot be explained as a pursuit of happiness. 
 The fighting cock must fight under given circum- 
 stances because it is his nature. Certain structures 
 are in his brain that impel him to fight. Does the 
 stone fall to the ground because it gives it pleasure, or 
 doesn't it rather fall because it must fall in agreement 
 to its nature? How often does it happen that a man 
 follows an irresistible impulse, although he knows that 
 it will give him pain. Thus it happens that men of 
 good intentions commit evil actions, and rascals some- 
 times act morally, in spite of themselves ; not at all 
 with the desire to avoid pain or to gain pleasure, but 
 simply because the impulse to act in this way lives in 
 their soul. It is a part of their nature, and under 
 given circumstances they cannot help letting that im- 
 pulse pass into act, even though they know that they 
 will have to regret the effects of the deed. It will in 
 many persons take a long time and much exercise of 
 will till this knowledge acquires sufficient strength as 
 a motive for prohibiting actions which will be regretted. 
 Every science deals with a certain province of na- 
 ture or it limits its inquiries to a special abstraction. 
 Thus mechanics deals with motions. Purely me- 
 chanical motions do not even exist. The mechanical 
 aspect of motions excludes many properties which are
 
 174 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 inseparably connected with the things in motion. But 
 the method of abstraction is a hmitation, indispensable 
 to science ; it Is the method by which alone we can 
 comprehend the world. Ethics, it appears to me is 
 no less limited to a peculiar aspect and to a special 
 province, than are for instance zoology, botany, or 
 mathematics, geodesy, etc. Ethics deals with all those 
 impulses of the soul which in the popular expression are 
 comprised under the name of duty, conscience, the 
 ought, or moral sense. Obedience to these impulses 
 is sometimes pleasurable, sometimes painful; yet 
 whether they are accompanied with pleasure or pain 
 is of secondary importance in ethics. The pleasurable 
 and painful elements in man's actions do not belong 
 to the abstraction of ethics. They need not and they 
 cannot be excluded from ethics, but they are of sec- 
 ondary importance and do not constitute the properly 
 moral element. We might just as well speak of colors 
 when discussing mechanical laws. We may say that 
 yellow gold will outweigh an equal mass of white 
 silver. But the yellowness of gold and the whiteness 
 of silver have nothing to do with the weight. Thus 
 pleasure and pain are qualities which are inseparably 
 connected with moral actions, and it is certainly 
 advisable to consider their relation to the strength of 
 motives. Yet to search in them for the standard of 
 morality would be as wrong as to set up yellowness 
 as a unit of weight. 
 
 The investigations of modern psychology, it ap- 
 pears to me, throw much light upon the mechanical 
 apparatus of soul-activity. An impulse placed into 
 the mind of a man by suggestion prompts to action 
 with the same necessity as, for instance, a wound-up 
 spring exercises a pressure and sets a clock in motion.
 
 IN ANSWER TO PROFESSOR JODL. 175 
 
 For example a hypnotized subject receives the sug- 
 gestion to stab one of the physicians present ; a piece 
 of card-board is given her instead of a dagger and she 
 commits the deed with the imaginary weapon. The 
 stabbed physician pretends to be dead, and the woman 
 is asked why she committed the murder. " He was a 
 bad man," she answered. "But is that a sufficient 
 reason to kill a man?" the woman was asked. "In 
 this case it is," she said, "for he attempted to assault 
 me. " The action is done because the impulse exists ; 
 the motives are often invented afterwards; and the 
 attempt to explain all actions as intended to pursue 
 happiness appears to me as such an after-invention. 
 A scientific explanation should show how the different 
 impulses, and especially how the ethical impulses, 
 that which we have defined as superindividual mo- 
 tives, develop. If we are to define the feeling attend- 
 ing the performance of something that could not be 
 avoided, not only as satisfaction but even as happi- 
 ness, in that case only should we have to concede that 
 all ethical aspirations are pursuits of happiness. The 
 Buddhist monk who does not believe in personal im- 
 mortalit}', and inflicts most cruel tortures upon him- 
 self to atone for the sin of existence would in that 
 case have to be said to pursue happiness. Pursuit of 
 happiness would then be identical with any kind of 
 action. 
 
 If the happiness attained or attainable were to be 
 considered as the standard of measurement for the 
 morality of actions, we should have to call the prepara- 
 tion for a ball extremely moral. Likewise, if the utility 
 of an act were to be considered as the standard of 
 measurement, the invention of the sewing machine 
 would as such be a moral act. I do not deny that the
 
 176 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 wish to spread joy and also the aspiration to make 
 oneself useful are moral ; but neither the happiness 
 nor the usefulness attainable by this or by that act con- 
 stitutes the properly moral element. The properly 
 moral element is an entirely different kind of abstrac- 
 tion. It consists of those motives or impulses to action 
 which regulate conduct, not from the egotistic stand- 
 point, but from the standpoint of a greater whole, to 
 which the person who acts belongs. 
 
 Is there any doubt about progress being a law of 
 the development of the human race ? It can fairly be 
 assumed that all the aspirations which serve the pro- 
 gress of the race, are to be considered as moral im- 
 pulses. Nevertheless, it is very doubtful whether pro- 
 gress will bring more happiness. One thing is sure : 
 Progress will bring more comforts, and together with 
 an increase of comforts, it brings more wants. Life 
 having more wants causes greater troubles in satisfy- 
 ing the wants. If there is any increase of happiness, 
 there will certainly be a greater increase in sensitive- 
 ness to pain ; and the condition of a savage who feels 
 no need to cover his nakedness, is enviable in com- 
 parison to the wretchedness of a civilized man, if he 
 fails somehow in his struggle for existence. If happi- 
 ness is to be considered as the standard of measure- 
 ment for morality, I doubt greatly whether it would 
 not be more moral to keep humanity in a state of 
 childhood and ignorant innocence. Pessimism indeed, 
 as represented by Schopenhauer and his followers, 
 considers the development of individual life as the 
 original sin, as the \r{\\\2i\. faux pas, the first wrong step 
 of the "will to live." Sin, according to Germany's 
 neo-Buddhistic philosopher, is individual existence, 
 and the meed of sin is all the evils of individual
 
 IN ANSWER TO PROFESSOR JODL. 177 
 
 existence, pain, old age, and death, and the happi- 
 ness aspired for is a mere illusion. 
 
 If happiness, or joy, or pleasure, were indeed the 
 standard of morality, I am inclined to say, that it v/ould 
 be better if the All were a mere play of unfeeling forces, 
 developing and dissolving again solar systems in their 
 luminous grandeur without evolving feeling and think- 
 ing beings on the surface of planets. The problem in 
 ethics, however, it appears to me, is not how to set 
 up a standard of morality of our own in contradiction 
 to the laws of nature, but how to conform to the laws 
 of nature. Science leads to Monism, and Monism 
 teaches us to consider ourselves as a part of nature. 
 The standard of morality cannot be derived from man's 
 likes or dislikes ; it cannot be based upon the separate^ 
 ness, the individuality, of his existence. Ethics can 
 rest only upon the recognition of natural laws. We 
 must know how nature operates in the universe, how 
 nature produces us, how she moulds us, and we must 
 comprehend that all our individual actions are acts of 
 nature. 
 
 If God is defined as the All in so far as it is a cos- 
 mos of orderly laws, we shall find that the old orthodox 
 morality contains more truth than might appear from 
 the standpoint of an unbeliever. Hedonism, Utili- 
 tarianism, Eudemonism, or any other system that 
 has arisen in opposition to the old orthodox ethics 
 of the dogmatic religions, represent an important 
 phase in the further evolution of ethical ideas, but 
 for the mere sake of overcoming their adversary they 
 discard together with the errors of supernaturalism, 
 the valuable truth that is contained in the ethics 
 of the old religions. The merits of these ethical 
 systems of opposition should not be underrated ; but
 
 178 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 it appears to me that they have not solved the prob- 
 lem. We must search for a solution of the ethical 
 problem in a higher synthesis of the old ethics of or- 
 thodox religion, and the oppositional ethics of all the 
 different happiness-theories. It is this higher synthesis 
 which we have attempted to present in our solution of 
 the Ethical Problem.
 
 RELIGION AND SCIENCE-THEIR INCON- 
 GRUITY. 
 
 A CRITICISM. 
 
 BY ROBERT LEWINS, M. D. 
 
 " To say I have changed my opinion, 
 is only to say I am wiser to-day than I 
 was yesterday." — Pope. 
 
 Having recently read, with much interest and profit, 
 Dr. Carus's Fundainental Problems and Lectures on 
 Ethics, I am desirous, with his sanction, and in ac- 
 cordance with the noble sentence which closes the 
 preface to the latter work: "Criticisms are solicited 
 from all who dissent from its views ; wherever any 
 one will convince me of error, he will find me ready 
 to change my opinion and to accept the truth what- 
 ever it be," — to offer a few but crucial objections to 
 his in many respects harmonious world-scheme. I shall 
 be very brief as the points at issue are quite simple 
 and self-evident. 
 
 I base all I have to say on Positive Science, which, 
 in o\xx fin de sihcle age at all events, entirely eliminates 
 "Spiritualism " of every shade, and brings us face to 
 face with the purest (its gainsayers term it crudest) 
 Materialism, or Somatism. I think a very little reflec- 
 tion ought to convince all who have overcome preju- 
 dice and superstition to see that the interaction be-
 
 i8o THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 tween an immaterial and material entity, from their 
 incompatibility, is logically unthinkable. 
 
 Spirit or Anma was to the Ancients really material, 
 being prefigured as a thin vaporous substance like the 
 hypothetical ether of modern chemistry and physics. 
 Plato insists that our souls are made of the same ma- 
 terial as the fixed stars, which alone is Materialism 
 unmasked. So that when Greek Philosophy speaks 
 of animism, it can note something quite different from 
 what our Religion labels ''Spirit." 
 
 My position is that the union or eirejiicon of Science 
 and Religion is impossible. Just as that of Matter 
 and Anima. And that where Religion is Science and 
 Reason are not, and vice versa. 
 
 I prefer arguing the point in dispute on physio- 
 logical data, the offspring of the century, now verging 
 to its close, in which we live. At one fell coup we thus, 
 in the simplest and most naive manner, get entirely 
 scot-free of the dual distinction between soul, which 
 is only another word for life, like Psyche, and body. 
 Dr. Carus appears to me to make too much use of the 
 compound epithet ''Soul-Life," which at best is only 
 tautology. Define Life, as Medicine, now the science 
 of human nature itself, does, as the sum of the organic 
 functions, and a consistent Monism, unifying Self and 
 the Cosmos, /. e. subject and object, is the self-evident 
 result. It is the identification of Being and Thinking, 
 only reached by a short cut as compared with the 
 Kantian, Hegelian, or all other Metaphysics. Kant 
 denying Ding an sick exactly hits the mark. Only he 
 is not consistent with his principle. Indeed it is difficult 
 to make out his real meaning, for ehrlich as, in general, 
 he Vv^as, he still practised a certain mental reservation, 
 as he himself during his most energetic period, con-
 
 RELIGION AND SCIENCE— THEIR INCONGRUITY. i8i 
 
 fesses in a letter to Moses Mendelsohn. As Goethe 
 says, Gcfiihl ist Ailes, and Gefiihl and Bewusslsciti, or 
 Consciousness, are synonymes. Till an object is sub- 
 jectived- by entering the sphere of consciousness, it 
 can have no rational value and is as non-existent to 
 a sentient being after it has sown its intellectual wild 
 oats. 
 
 And this apodeixis alone proves my case that there 
 is, and can be no other "outer" world than our senses, 
 of which Thought is a mode made for us. We are 
 thus at once both creator and creation in the only 
 sphere, relational or phenomenal, to which we have ac- 
 cess. Religion haunts the Absolute sphere, and that 
 is quite out of our lines as utterly inaccessible to hu- 
 man thought. The mere fact that all percepts and 
 concepts are produced in a human mind (brain) ought 
 to convince us that higher than humanity and ulti- 
 mately Egoity, Man and the Ego cannot range. God 
 therefore, like every" thing" (concept) else, must be 
 a brain-made phenomenon and the only noumenon, if 
 we care to use these now familiar terms which is non- 
 essential, is Oiirsclf. 
 
 Pope, in the fourth book of the Dimciad, is very 
 severe on this lapse from Absolutism. And yet it is 
 really his own theory in his Essay on Man, when he 
 traces Heaven to the passion of pride and Hell to that 
 of spite. I could argue this question in other ways, 
 indeed have done so in former years ad nauseam. ■ Even 
 on transcendental grounds from the Omnipresence of 
 Deity, which as Pantheistic practically forecloses all 
 Personal Divinity, or form of Divine Worship. But 
 the above argument seems all-sufficient. Regard Life 
 as organized function and Death as its exhaustive and 
 cessation and the immemorial fallacy of the impossible
 
 1 82 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 interaction of soul, or mind, on Matter is dissipated 
 at one blow as by a thunderbolt. Nothing ever really 
 dies but only changes its form — and the constituents 
 of our present bodies are as eternal as are Suns and 
 Planets. No real distinction differentiates Time and 
 Eternity, Space and Immensity. And both Concepts, 
 like all others, have no other source that we can hope 
 or fear to reach, than Ourself. 
 
 It is clear from modern Chemistry that no parti- 
 tion separates the organic and inorganic worlds. And 
 therefore, putting aside all the modern sciences, we 
 reach the physiological (non-spiritual) result equally 
 well on the data of Newtonian cosmology. The es- 
 chatological colophon of the Attraction of Gravity is 
 to make matter active, not passive and inert. No 
 foreign factor or "Spirit" is therefore needed to ^^ ani- 
 mate " what by an inseparable Vis Insita is already ca- 
 pable of doing its own work. And Deity ititer alios 
 ofunes is thus an illogical superfluity, must be so if 
 Self be all in all. 
 
 Natural Religion, of which Voltaire and other 
 sceptics of the eighteenth century were votaries seems 
 a retrogression from the higher "revealed" ones, 
 which were evidently the well-meant, but to us now- 
 a-days, futile and immoral attempts of humanitarian en- 
 thusiasts like Christ and Mahomet — to supplant the 
 cruel "God or Law of Nature " by a Being with whom, 
 on certain terms fatal indeed to human dignity and 
 progress a modus vivendi became possible. 
 
 Mr. Darwin traces all the different species of ani- 
 mals and plants from a few originally called into be- 
 ing by a Creator. But, in a letter to Sir Joseph 
 Hooker, he subsequently retracts that rash assertion 
 and expresses lasting regret that he had ever so far
 
 RELIGION AND SCIENCE— THEIR INCONGRUITY. 183 
 
 truckled {sic) to vulgar opinion as to have broached 
 so unscientific a genesis of living beings. It conflicts 
 entirely with the real Principles of Evolution — as 
 does Mr. Spencer's cryptic Agnosticism of the Un- 
 knowable.
 
 SCIENCE AND RELIGION. 
 
 IN ANSWER TO DR. LEWINS'S CRITICISM. 
 
 BY DR. PAUL CARUS. 
 
 Dr. Robert Lewins is one of the most original 
 thinkers of the present day ; but being original he uses 
 a terminology of his own, and it may sometimes be 
 difficult to understand his meaning. He characterises 
 his view as Hylo-idealism, which appears to me simi- 
 lar to Monism to the extent that it has been invented 
 for the purpose of combining the truths of idealism as 
 well as realism. 
 
 The soul, certainly, can no longer be considered 
 as a material being. Yet " soul " is not quite so iden- 
 tical with "life" as Dr. Lewins declares. We cannot 
 think of a soul without its having life. Similarly we 
 cannot think of matter without its being mass. Soul 
 and life, matter and mass, are abstractions, different 
 in kind, each of which in a certain sense covers the 
 same sphere. The physicist may very well speak of 
 the mass of a certain piece of matter and the life of a 
 certain soul. Soul is not life and nothing but life. 
 Soul is life of a certain kind. We can speak of soul- 
 life with the same propriety that we speak of the move- 
 ment of a mechanism, though a mechanism is move- 
 ment of a special kind. If life is as Dr. Lewins says, "or-
 
 SCIENCE AND RELIGION. 185 
 
 ganized function," would it be wrong to speak of the 
 functions of an organism ? 
 
 The application of Goethe's words " Gefiihl ist 
 Alles," as made by Dr. Lewins, is very ingenious, but 
 scarcely redeemable. He says: "Till an object is 
 subjectived by entering the sphere of consciousness, 
 it can have no rational value, and is as non-existent 
 to a sentient being after it has sown its intellectual 
 wild oats." Can, for instance, bacilli so long as they 
 do not "enter the sphere of consciousness," be re- 
 garded as non-existent to sentient beings? 
 
 Dr. Lewins understands by religion the absence of 
 science and reason. He says : " Religion haunts the 
 absolute sphere, and that is quite out of our lines as 
 utterly inaccessible to human thought." Similarly 
 philosophy was formerly supposed to haunt the realm 
 of the absolute. The religion of the absolute has been 
 given up just as much as the philosophy of the abso- 
 lute, but philosophy and religion will not perish on 
 account of religious and philosophical errors. Far 
 from considering religion as antagonistic to science, 
 we understand by religion the practical application 
 of science ; it is the regulation of life in accord with 
 our conception of the world.
 
 MR. GOLDWIN SMITH ON MORALITY AND 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith discusses the ethical question 
 in an article in the Forutn, entitled " Will Morality 
 survive Religion ? " He presents no definite solution 
 but sufficiently indicates one, and that is a denial of 
 the question \ between the lines we read the answer, 
 Morality will not survive Religion. He says : 
 
 "The withdrawal of religious belief must, however, one would 
 think, have begun to operate, and some observers may be in a po- 
 sition to say what the effect is and how far philosophy or science 
 has been able to fill the void. As the twilight of theism and Chris- 
 tianity still lingers, nobody expects a sudden change. Least of all 
 does anybody expect a sudden outbreak of immorality among phi- 
 losophers, whose minds are elevated by their pursuit and in whom 
 the coarser appetites are sure to be weak ; so that the sensitive- 
 ness which men of this class are apt to show, whenever a connec- 
 tion is suggested between religious and moral agnosticism, is out 
 of place." 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith illustrates his position vividly 
 
 by presenting to us " some specimens of the moral as 
 
 well as of the religious agnostic." The murderer Bir- 
 
 chall is described in the following words : 
 
 "As he was the son of a clergyman and had been well brought 
 up, he must have been thoroughly enlightened, and cannot have 
 been led into crime by anything like the brutal ignorance of moral 
 law which is often the heritage of the gutter child. Nor does it
 
 MR. GOLDIVIN SMfTH ON MORALITY. 187 
 
 seem that evil passion of any kind was overpoweringly strong in 
 him. The attempts of the enemies of capital punishment to make 
 out a case of moral insanity were in this case more faint than 
 usual. It even appears that there was an amiable side to his 
 character. His college companions liked him. He seems to have 
 been a loving husband, and there was something touching and al- 
 most heroic in the effort which he successfully made, while he was 
 awaiting execution, to master the fear of death and to v/rite his 
 autobiography for the benefit of his wife. The autobiography, it 
 is true, is nothing more than the vulgar record of a fast under- 
 graduate's life at an inferior college ; but this does not detract from 
 the nerve shown in writing it, and in illustrating it with comic 
 sketches, beneath the shadow of the gallows. He only happened 
 to have occasion for his friend's money. It is possible that if 
 Birchall, instead of being sent to college — where a youth of his 
 stamp was sure to be idle, and, being idle, to become dissipated — 
 had been set to regular work in an office under a strong chief, he 
 might have gone decently through life, though he would have been 
 a very selfish man. But he was a thorough-going agnostic in 
 morals as well as in religion. Evidently he felt not a twinge of 
 remorse for what he had done. No doubt he cursed his own care- 
 lessness in having, when he was destroying all the proofs of iden- 
 tity on the corpse, overlooked the cigar case, the name written on 
 which gave the fatal clew ; but the recollection of having killed a 
 confiding friend for his money evidently gave him no more con- 
 cern than as if he had slaughtered a bear for its skin. Bred a gen- 
 tleman, he admirably preserved his dignity and impressiveness of 
 manner when standing at bay against his pursuers, and he showed 
 the same qualities for the two months during which a whole com- 
 munity was staring at him through the bars of his cage, when the 
 least sign of weakness would have been at once proclaimed. When 
 he was sentenced, he remarked, with a philosophy which appears 
 to have been genuine, that life is short for all, and that there is 
 not much difference between a term of a few months and one of a 
 few years. He might have added that he would make his exit 
 from life more nearly without pain than ninety-nine men out of a 
 hundred." 
 
 A similar striking case is found in the person of 
 William Palmer, the Rugeley murderer, who also, Mr. 
 Goldwin Smith says, "was evidently a perfect moral
 
 1 88 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 agnostic. He behaved at his trial as if he had been 
 watching a game of chess, showed not the shghtest 
 sign of remorse, and met death v/ith perfect apathy, 
 if not with Birchall's genteel composure." 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith adds : 
 
 "As moral agnostics these men were low specimens of a char- 
 acter of which the great Napoleon was the highest. , . . He (Napo- 
 leon) was simply ' The Prince ' of Machiavelli, that prophet of 
 moral agnosticism."* 
 
 The present situation is described in the following 
 
 words : 
 
 "Religious agnosticism is gaining ground, not so much per- 
 haps in America as in Europe, because America is less speculati\'e 
 than Europe and because free churches do not provoke sceptical 
 criticism so much as establishm.ents ; but everywhere religious ag- 
 nosticism is manifestly gaining ground. Are we to expect a cor- 
 responding growth of moral agnosticism ? We shall not have a 
 crop of Birchalls and Palmers, still less of Napoleons ; but may 
 we not have a crop of men who will regard morality as a super- 
 stition or a convention, and will do what suits their own interest ? 
 
 *I beg to differ in some respects from this view concerning Napoleon's 
 character. Napoleon's success is not due to his unprincipled egotism and un- 
 scrupulousness ; it is due to the actual services he rendered to his nation and 
 to humanity in general. He may be considered as a " scourge of God " but 
 even as such he was the most indispensable man of his era. He was a scourge 
 to Germany, but his achievements in having swept out of existence so many 
 antiquated institutions and principalities, especially in having broken to 
 pieces the old rotten Roman-Teutonic Kaiser-humbug, so as to make a regen- 
 eration of Germany possible, alone made his career a great blessing to Ger- 
 many which outweighs all the innumerable injuries and suppressions he 
 caused her. Let us not look to the vices of a man to explain his success. I 
 am inclined to declare a f>riori\\\zX a successful man must have some virtues 
 which are the causes of his success, and if he has great vices, it is, to say the 
 least, probable that his virtues will eclipse his vices. The effects of the vir- 
 tues will remain, the effects of his vices will disappear in time. 
 
 Does Mr. Goldwin Smith believe in Machiavelli ? I do not believe in 
 Machiavelli. The great king who wrote the " Anti-Machiavelli " has refuted, 
 not only in words but also in deeds, the theory that unprincipled rascality is the 
 best policy for a king to maintain himself upon a throne. It is due to Frederick 
 the Great's maxim that "the king is the first servant of the state" which 
 proved a live presence with almost all his successors, that a scion of his 
 family now occupies the imperial throne of Germany,
 
 MR. GOLDVVIN SMITH ON MORALITY. iSg 
 
 Greece, after the fall of her religion, had the moral anarchy de- 
 picted by Thucydides and ascribed by him to that fall. She had 
 the moral agnosticism of the Sophists. Rome, after the departure 
 of the religious faith to which Polybius, in a famous passage, as- 
 scribes her public morality, had the immorality of the Empire. On 
 the decline of the Catholic faith in Europe, ensued the moral ag- 
 nosticism of the era impersonated in Machiavelli. In each case, 
 into the void left by religion came spiritual charlatanry and phys- 
 ical superstition, such as the arts of the hierophant of Isis, the 
 soothsayer, and the astrologer — significant precursors of our mod- 
 ern ' medium.' " 
 
 We feel inclined to say, this is a very pessimistic 
 diagnosis of the future, but we are told : 
 
 "There is nothing pessimistic in this ; no want of faith in the 
 future of humanity, or in the benevolence of the power by which 
 human destiny is controlled. The only fear suggested is that so- 
 ciety may have a bad quarter of an hour during the transition, as 
 it has had more than once before." 
 
 A ' bad quarter of an hour ' for humanity may mean 
 the ruin of nations ! Was the pessimism of Tacitus 
 unjustified because other nations arose in a grander 
 glory after the ignominious ruin of Rome that followed 
 its moral decline ? Pessimism means to us that we 
 ourselves and our nation v/ill see this ' bad quarter of 
 an hour,' and if it comes it will be terrible to all con- 
 cerned. It will come like a deluge to sweep away the 
 innocent and the good together with the guilty. 
 
 Pessimism in any other sense is not justified. The 
 world is such that if the nation to whom by natural 
 advantages the future of humanity seems to be en- 
 trusted, shows herself unwilhng or unable to fulfil her 
 mission, other nations will arise and take her place. 
 We Americans especially are more inclined than 
 others, and I do not deny that in some respects our 
 hope is justifiable, to consider ourselves as the chil- 
 dren of promise. But at the same time we are apt to
 
 igo THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 forget that our mission implies duties. It is not enough 
 to say, "We have Abraham to our father." The chil- 
 dren of promise must be worthy of their duties \ if 
 they are not they will be rejected. Yet as to the 
 whole, as to the evolution of mankind, there is no 
 need of being pessimistic. "For I say unto you that 
 God is able of these stones to raise up children unto 
 Abraham." Evolution will not be checked because we 
 prove unfit to carry the torch of progress. We shall, 
 in that case, go to the wall and the torch will be 
 handed to others. 
 
 And here we come to the point of disagreement 
 with Mr. Goldwin Smith. He says : 
 
 " Evolution is not moral, nor can morality be educed from it. 
 It proclaims as its law the survival of the fittest, and the only proof 
 of fitness is survival." 
 
 Evolution, it is true, is in a certain sense, " a quasi- 
 mechanical and necessary process" ; it "will fulfil it- 
 self without effort or sacrifice " on my part, or on your 
 part, or on the part of any individual. Yet in another 
 sense, evolution is not a merely mechanical process;* 
 nor can it fulfil itself without the effort or sacrifice of 
 mankind. The question is not whether my help is in- 
 dispensable for evolution to fulfil itself, the question 
 is whether my soul will enter into the evolutionary 
 movement, or to use a biblical term, whether I shall 
 enter into life eternal, as an element representing an 
 
 * Every motion is mechanically explainable, or in other words, every mo- 
 tion can be described in mechanical formulas, i. e. there is a uniformity of 
 motions which can be formulated in the laws of mechanics. Evolution con- 
 sidered as a movement sweepir.]; onward over the life of mankind is a mechan 
 ical process. But the mechanical aspect of natural processes is only one side ; 
 it does not cover the whole of reality. Not even the fall of a stone can be con- 
 sidered as a purely mechanical process. See the author's remarks on the sub- 
 ject in "Fundamental Problems" (p. 115 at seqq.), "Can the World be 
 Mechanically Explained?" and his article "Some Questions of Psycho- 
 Physics," The Monist No. 3, p. 401.
 
 MR. GOLDWIN SMITH ON MORALITY. 191 
 
 upward or as one representing a downward pull. To 
 speak of a single individual as helping evolution is 
 something like helping God in governing the world. 
 The individual does not come into consideration at all 
 from an ethical standpoint, but that alone which is 
 represented in the individual. 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith still recognises, particularly 
 with regard to the gentler virtues, the influence of re- 
 ligion upon our code of ethics. He says : 
 
 " There is no saying how much of theism, or even of Chris- 
 tianity, still mingles with the theories of agnostics. When the 
 agnostic assumes that the claims of the community are superior to 
 those of the individual, when he uses such a term as ' conscien- 
 tious,' and even when he speaks with reverence of an 'eternal 
 source of energy and force,' careful scrutiny of his expressions 
 might discover a trace of theism." 
 
 Certainly, there is a trace of theism in any kind of 
 morality, even if the expression " the eternal source of 
 energy " be rejected. We at least do most emphat- 
 ically reject it as a dualistic and a meaningless phrase. 
 Nevertheless, morality means obedience to some law 
 higher, grander, and nobler than our individual in- 
 terests. The recognition of the authority of this law 
 is the kernel of all religion, it is also the truth con- 
 tained in the idea of God. 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith says : 
 
 "The saying that if God did not exist it would be necessary 
 to invent him, was very smart but very silly. Nothing can be done 
 for us by figments. Whosoever will be saved, before all things it 
 is necessary that he keep his allegiance to the truth." 
 
 With this we perfectly agree. Nothing can be done 
 for us by figments. But if all the nations that cease 
 to believe in, and at the same time also cease to obey, 
 the authority of the moral law, irredeemably go to the 
 wall, can that moral law be considered as a figment ?
 
 192 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 We may consider the personification of the moral law 
 as a figment, and we have good reason to do so, but 
 if by God is understood that objective reality in the 
 world which by the penalty of extinction enforces a 
 certain kind of conduct, we may expect no serious 
 contradiction when we maintain that the existence of 
 God can be scientifically proved. 
 
 It is a matter of course that the God of science is 
 not like the God of the heathenish religions, not even 
 like the good Lord of pagan Christianity who can be 
 bribed by flattery and prayer, and still less like the 
 benevolent and philanthropic God Father of Deism. He 
 is an inflexible law, immutable, irrefragable, eternal ; 
 stern toward transgressors and kind toward those who 
 keep his commandments. If Mr. Goldwin Smith will 
 consider God in this sense as a natural law, or rather 
 as the law of nature, as that in nature which is as it 
 is, in the Pentateuch called by the expressive name 
 Javeh, as that which we cannot model at pleasure, but 
 to which we must model ourselves in order to live and 
 to continue to live — he will fi.nd that God is at the 
 bottom of evolution also ; he will find that morality 
 indeed can and must be educed from it. It is true 
 that evolution proclaims as its law the survival of the 
 fittest. But who in the long run of millenniums are 
 the fittest if not those that conform to that stern author- 
 ity, to the law of nature, to the order of the cosmos, to 
 that all-power of which we are a part which has created 
 us and still maintains our life, — to God. 
 
 If Mr. Goldwin Smith means to say that ethics 
 without religion is a failure and will remain a failure, 
 we agree with him perfectly. He says : 
 
 " With misgivings, conscious or unconscious, about religion, 
 came the desire of finding a sanction for morality independent of 
 theology ; in other words, moral philosophy."
 
 MR. GOLD WIN SMITIf ON MORALITY. 193 
 
 He adds that all those moral philosophers "whose 
 philosophy has been practically effective, from So- 
 crates downward, have been religious and have re- 
 garded their philosophy as the ally and confirmation 
 of religion." This, 1 grant, is true if religion is used 
 in the broad sense we use it, and not in the sense of 
 a creed which declares that religiosity consists in a 
 blind belief of traditional dogmas. 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith quotes approvingly a passage 
 from his late friend Mr. Cotter Morison, whom he 
 calls "the most thorough-going of agnostics." Mr. 
 Morison says : 
 
 "Virtue may, and possibly will, bring happiness to the vir- 
 tuous man ; but to the immoral and the selfish, virtue will probably 
 be the most distasteful or even painful thing in their experience, 
 while vice will give them unmitigated pleasure." 
 
 This is true, and being true it suffices to explode 
 any kind of hedonism which would fain make us be- 
 lieve that happiness is the consequence of virtue, and 
 that virtue must be explained as that which gives 
 pleasure or produces happiness. The quotation is 
 valuable because it comes from an agnostic. Agnostics 
 not being able to found ethics upon something which 
 they do not know and which they consider as unknov/- 
 able, have attempted to explain morality as that which 
 is conducive to happiness. If ethics cannot be de- 
 duced from happiness or that which causes happiness, 
 how can we explain it ? 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith calls attention to the fact that 
 all other attempts of teaching or explaining morality 
 contain religious elements, and he is right. He says : 
 
 "Where they take as their foundation the authority of con- 
 science, the categorical imperative, or the command of nature, it 
 is clear that they are still within the circle of theism."
 
 194 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 He adds these two propositions which, it appears, 
 he believes to be equivalent : " Nature," he says, " is 
 an unmeaning expression without an author of nature, 
 or rather, it is a philosophical name of God." The 
 former proposition we reject as a decided non sequitur; 
 the latter we accept. As soon as we consider nature, 
 the world-order, the laws of the evolution of life in 
 their moral importance, we are confronted with the 
 true kernel of religious truth ; their recognition is the 
 kernel of the God-idea, for God if it means anything 
 is the moral authority whose will must be done. 
 
 Agnosticism is an untenable and a practically use- 
 less philosophy. Mr. Goldwin Smith says, "The pro- 
 fession of safe acquiescence in ignorance may sound 
 very philosophic." But it is not ; and he has our full 
 assent when he says : 
 
 "The generation after next may perhaps see agnosticism, 
 moral as well as religious, tried on a clear field. By that time, 
 possibly, science, whose kingdom seems now to have come, will 
 have solved in her own way the mystery of existence ; at least so 
 far as to provide us with a rule of life, personal and social." 
 
 We also believe that the kingdom of science seems 
 now to have come. But if it comes, in what way and 
 by whose authority does it come ? It comes in the or- 
 dinary course of evolution by the authority of the God 
 of the religion of science. It comes after all as a sur- 
 vival of the fittest in spite of Mr. Goldwin Smith's 
 denunciation of the law of evolution. This is so pal- 
 pable that no words need be lost about it. Yet Mr. 
 Goldwin Smith's argument is so strong that we shall 
 have to add a few further explanations. 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith says : 
 
 "The tiger has been as much evolved as the lamb; and the 
 most noxious of human beasts, if he can hold his own in the strug-
 
 MK. GOLDWIN SMITH ON MORALITY. 195 
 
 gle for existence, at whatever expense to his fellows, has as good 
 a right to existence as Socrates." 
 
 Here we have to make two objections. 
 
 First we have to repeat what we have said again 
 and again on other occasions: that this famous com- 
 parison so often employed to contrast the immoral 
 evil-doer with the moral martyr does not correctly rep- 
 resent the nature of the problem. The tiger is not 
 more immoral than the lamb ; on the contrary, if the 
 tiger represents the active energetic fighter who in the 
 struggle for existence holds his own, while the lamb 
 represents the passive sufferer who is too weak-headed 
 to face his foe, the tiger is more moral than the lamb 
 and it serves the lamb right that he succumbs to the 
 victor. There is no morality in ovine indolence. Mor- 
 ality is not, as it is often supposed to be, merely the 
 omission of certain grosser or more refined crimes, of 
 different sins, bad habits, and pecadilloes ; true mor- 
 ality is not passive, it is active, it consists in the 
 achieving and doing of that which is our duty to do 
 for ourselves and for mankind, which latter is only a 
 wider range of our nobler self. 
 
 Our second objection to Mr. Goldwin Smith's argu- 
 ment is that "human beasts" can not hold their own. 
 They are constantly being eliminated by the natural 
 selection of evolution. 
 
 We agree with Mr. Goldwin Smith when he says : 
 "It is absurd to say that a life of self-denial and en- 
 durance, ending in mart5Tdom, is happiness" — 'for the 
 law of morality cannot be educed from man's yearning 
 for happiness — and in a certain sense we also agree 
 to the clause he adds — " unless there is a compensa- 
 tion beyond." Morality as a factor in life and in evo- 
 lution, as a law of nature, cannot be understood unless
 
 ig5 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 we rise above the sphere of the individual. Egotism 
 is not morality, and moral actions are those which are 
 consciously or unconsciously performed with an out- 
 look beyond the narrow interests of the individual in 
 time and space. Moral motives are superindividual. 
 I purposely do not call them altruistic, because altru- 
 ism does not seem to me the proper moral view ; it 
 simply replaces the interests of the own ego by those 
 of other egos. The superindividual aspect however 
 makes humanity and its ideals, the natural laws of 
 social justice and the moral law of the world, parts of 
 the individual and it is not the individual but these 
 superindividual parts of his soul which will survive. 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith is not yet free from the indi- 
 viduaHsm of our time. He seems to expect that mor- 
 ality and happiness shall be doled out to the individ- 
 ual in equal proportions. He introduces the following 
 
 instance : 
 
 "A man acquires a great estate by fraud, enjoys it wisely, 
 uses his wealth liberally, makes himself popular, takes good care 
 of his health, lives long, dies respected, and leaves healthy off- 
 spring. Freed by his opulence from wearing toil and injurious 
 exposure, he exhibits all the energy, vivacity, and sociability which 
 are held out as the rewards of a right course of living. Morality 
 says that he is miserable, but how can evolution condemn him ?" 
 
 Evolution does condemn him. Evolution will in 
 the long run ehminate such types as he is, as certain 
 as it will eliminate the tigers from off the surface of 
 the earth. 
 
 Mr. Goldwin Smith continues : 
 
 ■ ' Evolutionary philosophers give excellent precepts for healthy 
 and comfortable living ; but these precepts apparently the man 
 fulfils, and thus he fulfils all righteousness. They may talk to 
 him, indeed, of a more perfect state of society to be some day 
 brought about by ethical science, in which he would be out of 
 place ; but he, having only one life, takes the world as he finds it,
 
 MR. GOLDWIN SMITH ON MORALITY. 197 
 
 and makes the best of it for himself. Why should he sacrifice 
 himself to the future of humanity ?" 
 
 Why should he sacrifice himself for the future of 
 humanity? Because the future of humanity is his 
 own future. Why shall a boy sacrifice the hours of 
 his childhood for the future days of his manhood ? 
 Wh)' ! Because the man is the continuance of the boy. 
 The objection may be made that the comparison does 
 not hold good ; the future generations of mankind are 
 not we ourselves, while the adult man is the same 
 person as the boy. What, however, does "the same 
 person" mean? The word "person" represents a 
 history, a continuance, nothing more. Persons are 
 not unchangeable units ; there is not one atom of the 
 boy left in the man. Materially considered the adult 
 man is as exactly as much and not more different from 
 himself when he was a boy, as the present generations 
 of mankind are different from the past generations, 
 for in both instances the continuity is preserved in 
 exactly the same degree and measure. 
 
 It is said that a man "having only one life takes 
 the world as he finds it, and makes the best of it for 
 himself." The truth is man has not "only one life." 
 
 " The soul that rises with us, our life's star, 
 Hath had elsewhere its setting 
 And Cometh from afar." 
 
 Man's life, his humanity, does not consist of the 
 material particles of his body. The properly human 
 in man consists almost entirely of his relations with 
 other men. His very language is superindividual, and 
 if we could cut out the superindividual from his brain, 
 there would remain a mere brute. There is a great 
 truth in the idea of immortality, although there need 
 not be an immortality either of bodily resurrection or 
 in a purely spiritual heaven beyond.
 
 19 8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 The immortality of the soul is a truth ; the immor- 
 tality of the individual is an error. We must cease to 
 consider the ego of the individual as a reality. It is 
 no reality and the belief in it is an illusion ; it is the 
 veil of Maya. The antiquated view of regarding the 
 personality of a man as an entity, as a kind of mys- 
 terious soul-unit, produces most intricate sham-prob- 
 lems ; but these problems will disappear as soon as 
 the veil of Maya has been lifted from our eyes. 
 
 As soon as we lose sight of the truth that mankind 
 is one great whole and that the individual is a man 
 only in so far as mankind lives in him, we shall not be 
 able to understand and to account for morality. The 
 superindividual in man, whatever it may be called, is 
 as much a reality as is the shape of his body, and it is 
 the superindividual elements in man which constitute 
 his soul. The recognition of the immortality of man's 
 soul, not in the old sense, but in a scientific sense, will 
 be found to be the only satisfactory solution of the 
 ethical problem and at the same time of the religious 
 problem.
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 
 
 BY PROF. HARALD HuFFDING. 
 
 If we wish to discuss ethical problems in a fruitful 
 manner and form just judgments of ethical theories, 
 we must always bear in mind the fact that there is not 
 merely one single ethical problem, but many. With 
 the solution of one of these problems the solution of 
 the others is not necessarily given, and thinkers who 
 have treated a single problem have not, in dealing with 
 that problem, always determined their position with 
 reference to the others. At all events, it will be an 
 especial and separate task to investigate the relation 
 to each other, the reciprocal dependence or independ- 
 ence, of the different ethical problems. When we speak 
 of the ethical problem as an especial philosophical prob- 
 lem, we must not forget that upon closer examination 
 it resolves itself into a number of different problems. 
 
 The reason of this tendency to regard the ethical 
 problem as simple and indivisible throughout, may be 
 partly sought in the fact that philosophical ethics did 
 not develop until the positive religions had lost their 
 undisputed control over the minds of men. Religious 
 ethics is simple and indivisible by virtue of its prin- 
 ciple. It is founded on authority. Its contents are the
 
 200 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 revealed commands of authority ; the feeling which 
 impels us to pass ethical judgments is the fear or rever- 
 ence or love with which men are filled in the presence 
 of divine authority ; the same motives impel man to 
 follow in his conduct the commands of the authority ; 
 and the principles of the education of individuals and 
 of the order of society are just as immediately given 
 by definite relation to this authority. It is upon the 
 whole the peculiarity of positive religions and the cause 
 of their great importance in the history of mankind 
 that they grant man satisfaction in a lump for all his 
 intellectual wants. The true believer has concentrated 
 in his belief his whole mental life ; his belief is at once 
 the highest science, the highest virtue, the highest 
 good, and the highest aesthetics. Philosophical ethics 
 has sought too long to retain the simple unity v/hich 
 is peculiar to religious ethics. The mistakes of the 
 greatest philosophical ethicists may be in part traced 
 to this source. A criticism of Kant and Bentham would 
 more fully illustrate this. The fundamental error — 
 one so often found in the science of the past — is too 
 great a love of simplicit3^ 
 
 I shall try, in the briefest possible manner, to give 
 an outline of the most important ethical problems. 
 
 Ethical judgments, judgments concerning good and 
 bad, in their simplest form are expressions of feeling, 
 and never lose that character however much influence 
 clear and reasoned knowledge may acquire with re- 
 spect to them. An act or an institution that could 
 awaken no feeling whatsoever would never become the 
 object of an ethical judgment, could never be desig- 
 nated as good or bad. And the character of the judg- 
 ment will be dependent upon the character of the feel- 
 ing that dictates the judgment. From the point of
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 201 
 
 view of pure egoism the judgment of the same act will 
 be wholly different from what it is when regarded, say, 
 from a point of view that is determined by motives of 
 sympathy embracing a larger or smaller circle of living 
 beings. An ethical system, accordingly, will acquire 
 its character from the motive principle of judgment upon 
 which it builds. This motive principle is the power that 
 originally and constantly again gives rise to ethical 
 judgments.' 
 
 If our motive principle is to operate with clearness 
 and logical consequence it must set up a definite stand- 
 ard. A test-principle of judgment must be established 
 that will furnish guidance in individual cases by en- 
 abling us to infer consequences from it in instances 
 where simple, instinctive feeling fails. The natural 
 course will be that the test-principles will correspond 
 directly with the motive principles at their base. The 
 relation between the two may, however, be more or 
 less simple. If we fix upon the feeling of sympathy as 
 our basis, regarding it as the main element of ethical 
 feelings, it follows of itself that the criterion we adopt 
 must be the principle of general welfare, that is the 
 principle that all acts and institutions shall lead to 
 the greatest possible feeling of pleasure among living 
 beings. This principle merely defines with greater 
 precision what is unconsciously contained in the feeling 
 of sympathy and in the instinct that springs from this 
 feeling. The same test-principle (as Bentham's "De- 
 ontology," for example, shows) may also be accepted 
 as valid from the point of view of pure egoism, only 
 in this case the relation between the motive principle 
 and the test-principle is more indirect. We must in 
 this case endeavor to prove that the happiness of others 
 is a necessary means to our own happiness. Our own
 
 202 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 happiness is then the real end, but in order to reach 
 this end we must take a roundabout course, and ethics 
 is the presentation of the system of the courses thus 
 taken. Kant arrives in a different way again at estab- 
 lishing the happiness of others as an end of ethics. It 
 would be the business of a special investigation to 
 determine the extent to which this varying motivation 
 of the principle of test must influence the conse- 
 quences derivable from it. 
 
 A third question is, By what motive shall an indi- 
 vidual act be determined? The motive to actioji is not 
 necessarily the same as the motive that dictates judg- 
 ment. The man who is animated with love for his fel- 
 low-creatures has reason to rejoice that ambition and 
 the instinct of acquisition constitute grounds of action 
 of so very general a character ; in that results become 
 thereby possible which, — for such is the unalterable 
 character of human nature, — would otherwise remain 
 unaccomplished. A special investigation would have 
 to point out whether cases occur in which motive of 
 action and motive of judgment must coincide if the 
 act is to be approved of, and whether there are not 
 motives to action which would rob the act of all ethical 
 character. 
 
 Different from the problems already mentioned is 
 the pedagogic problem : How can the proper and nec- 
 essary motives be developed in man? This problem 
 arises as well with respect to the motive principle of 
 judgment as with respect to the motive principle of 
 action. It is clear that between points of view that 
 rest upon entirely different psychological foundations, 
 (the one, for example, starting from egoism, the other 
 from sympathy, and the third from pure reason,) the 
 discussion can be carried only to a certain point. The
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 203 
 
 person who with conscious logic makes himself the 
 highest and only aim can never be refuted from a point 
 of view which regards every individual as a member of 
 society and of the race, and therefore not only as an 
 end but also as a means. If an understanding is to be- 
 come possible, the emotional foundation adopted (the 
 motive spring of judgment) must be changed ; but the 
 change is not effected by mere theoretical discussion : 
 a practical education is demanded in addition thereto 
 which life does not afford all individuals, although our 
 inclination to make ourselves an absolute centre is al- 
 ways obstructed by the tendency of society to subject 
 us all to a general order of things. There is an edu- 
 cation of humanity by history the same as there is an 
 education of single individuals in more limited spheres. 
 This education demands its special points of view, 
 which are not always directly furnished by general 
 ethical principles. The same is true of the motive to 
 action. For pedagogical reasons it may be necessary 
 to produce or to preserve motives that do not satisfy 
 the highest demand, because such motives are neces- 
 sary transitional stages to the highest motives. Thus, 
 ambition and the instinct of acquisition may be the 
 means of attaining to true ethical self-assertion. Rev- 
 erence for authorities historically given can be of ex- 
 traordinary effectiveness in the development of charac- 
 ter, since only thereby are concentration or fixity of 
 endeavor as well as the power of joyful resignation ac- 
 quired, — without our being able to see in such rev- 
 erence the highest ethical qualities. A ground- color 
 in fact must often be laid on before the final, required 
 tint can be applied. The law of the displacement of 
 motives operates here which in ethical estimation gen- 
 erally is of the utmost importance.
 
 204 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 There must still be mentioned here finally the socio- 
 political problem. This problem has reference to that 
 particular ordered arrangement of society which is best 
 adapted to a development in the direction of ethical 
 ideals. As the former problem leads inquiry out of the 
 domain of ethics into that of pedagogics, so this one 
 leads us from ethics into political economy and po- 
 litical science. 
 
 Although in the present discussion I intend to oc- 
 cupy myself only with a single one of these problems, 
 I have nevertheless mentioned them all in order that 
 the light that I shall attempt to throw upon the prob- 
 lem I deal with may be seen in its proper setting. As 
 will be observed from what follows, the principle of 
 welfare will be misunderstood if the problem to whose 
 solution it is adapted is confounded with any one of 
 the other ethical problems. The S5'stematism of ethical 
 science is still so little advanced that it is necessary to 
 draw out a general outline before we pass on to any 
 single feature. The value of systematism is namely 
 this, that we are immediately enabled to see the con- 
 nection of the single questions with one another as 
 well as their distinctive peculiarity. In ethics we are 
 not yet so far advanced. 
 
 11. 
 
 i) If we accept the principle of welfare as our test 
 or criterion in judging of the value of actions and of 
 institutions, these are then good or bad according as 
 in their effects (so far as we can trace them) they pro- 
 duce a predominance of pleasurable feeling or a pre- 
 dominance of painful feeling in a larger or smaller 
 circle of sentient beings. Every action may be com- 
 pared \o a stone thrown into the water. The motion
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 205 
 
 produced is propagated in large or in small circles ; 
 and the estimation of its value depends upon whether 
 it produces in the places it strikes predominant pleas- 
 ure or pain. Just as theoretical science explains the 
 single natural phenomenon by its connection with other 
 natural phenomena, so ethics tests the single feeling 
 by its relation to other feelings : the satisfaction of a 
 person acting over the accomplishment of the act is 
 only then to be called justifiable or good when it does 
 not create a disturbance in the pleasurable feeling of 
 other beings, or when such a disturbance can be proved 
 to be a necessary means of a greater or more extended 
 pleasurable feeling. This principle, as a principle of 
 test or valuation, corresponds directly with sympathy 
 as motive of judgment. The extent to which it is 
 possible to accept this from other points of view I 
 cannot here investigate in detail. 
 
 The act of estimation, the testing, does not stop 
 at the outer action but goes down to the motives of 
 the person acting, to the qualities of his character, to 
 the whole inner life from which the act has sprung. 
 This has its ground in the nature and significance of 
 the estimating judgment. Ethical judgments, in fact, 
 are in their original and simplest form spontaneous 
 expressions of feeling. But the great practical signifi- 
 cance of such expressions of feeling lies in the fact 
 that they operate decisively upon the will (upon the 
 individual will and that of others) and produce motives 
 of future action. Logically, accordingly, they must be 
 directed towards the point at which an altering effect 
 on the power that produces the act is possible, and 
 this point lies precisely in the inner life, in the char- 
 acter of mind of the person acting. For this reason 
 feelings and impulses, disturbances and desires, are
 
 2o6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 also judged of according to the tendency which they 
 have of producing acts and effects that will increase 
 pleasurable feeling or avoid unpleasurable feeling in 
 more extended or more limited circles. 
 
 Only by its effects do we know the power. We 
 form by inferences our conclusions as to what takes 
 place in the mind of a man, his motives and his ca- 
 pacity. Goodness or greatness that never expressed 
 itself in action could never become the object of ethical 
 approbation ; it would not even exist in fact, but 
 would rest upon a self-deception, upon an illusion. 
 At least some inner activity, a longing and endeavor 
 in the direction demanded by the ethical principle 
 must manifest itself. The individual in self-judgment 
 must often take refuge in this inner activity, and any 
 deep-going, unpharisaical ethical estimation will have 
 to follow him there \ * but just here do we have a be- 
 ginning of that which is demanded by the principle of 
 welfare, except that in consequence of individual cir- 
 cumstances its prosecution is impossible. 
 
 Equally important as the principle that we can 
 know the power only from the effects is the other prin- 
 ciple that the effect need not appear at once. When 
 good and great men are so often mistaken by their 
 contemporaries the fact is explained by the circum- 
 stance that only a very wide-embracing glance can 
 measure the significance of their efforts and activity. 
 Their goodness and greatness is founded in the fact 
 that their thought, their feeling, their will, comprehend 
 far more than their short-sighted and narrow-minded 
 contemporaries see. A long time may elapse before 
 it is possible for them to be generally understood, and 
 
 ♦Compare my article "The Laws of Relativity in Ethics " in the /«<fr- 
 national Journal of Ethics, Vol. I. p. 37, et seqq.
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 207 
 
 for what they have done to be assimilated. It is there- 
 fore by no means implied in the principle of welfare 
 that people are to direct their conduct so as to be in 
 accord with impulses and wants which men have at the 
 moment. The principle of welfare demands in very 
 fact that we should not shrink from the battle with 
 prejudice and with inertia. The best thing, often, that 
 we can do for others is to make them feel that they 
 stand on entirely too low a level in their wishes and 
 wants and do not make adequate demands generally. 
 Thus, to take a single instance, the great artist often 
 treads a solitary path ununderstood or even mistaken 
 by the great mass. Yet in so doing he follows, perhaps 
 without being aware of it, the principle of welfare, — 
 if he rigorously observes the demands of art. He in- 
 creases the mental capital of the species, and gives it 
 a power which later on can operate in broad spheres. 
 Only a short-sighted conception and application of 
 the principle of v/elfare stops with the need of the mo- 
 ment and dismisses the consideration of the permanent 
 conditions of life and the permanent sources of new 
 life and new activity.* 
 
 2) The principle of welfare simply furnishes a norm 
 which may be laid at the foundation of the testing of 
 all classes of actions. But it by no means demands, as 
 has at times been supposed, that consideration for 
 welfare should also be the ground and motive for every 
 act. We have recourse to general principles only in 
 order to be able to set ourselves aright in cases in 
 which direct judgment, instinctive feeling cannot de- 
 termine the question presented, that is in cases of 
 doubt, or when we have in view a systematic treatment 
 
 * This last argument is taken from my Ethics (Danish edition, P. 94, Ger- 
 man edition, p. no.
 
 2o8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of ethical questions. The ethical feeling may operate 
 quite involuntarily and without real ratiocination, in 
 that we can be moved directly by the act (whether 
 possible or real) as it appears to us, just as in our 
 aesthetical feeling we may without aesthetical reason- 
 ing be struck by the beauty of a work of art or of a land- 
 scape. Or, we follow with confidence the "unwritten 
 laws " that are contained in custom, in tradition, and 
 generally in so-called "positive morality." And in 
 agreement precisely with the principle of welfare, is 
 immediacy of this kind to be recommended and main- 
 tained, so long as it does not lead to the neglect of real 
 problems and questions. It is the state of innocence 
 out of which no one dare be wrested unnecessarily. 
 Abstract principles become necessary aids when direct 
 reliance fails ; but frequently they can only be applied 
 to individual concrete cases by the employment of a 
 great number of complicated intermediary steps, and 
 do not easily acquire a practical influence upon the 
 will. Indeed, the principle of welfare may even de- 
 mand quite different motives from ethical feeling or 
 devotion to the requirements of positive morality. It 
 is in fact most beautiful and best that a man should 
 care for his wife and children because he loves them 
 and not because his ethical instinct requires it. Where 
 conscious duty has to be invoked in the innermost re- 
 lations between man and man, it is as a rule a sign of 
 an unfortunate state of affairs. Perfect love dispels 
 not only fear but also duty. 
 
 In his " Ethics," at page 339, Wundt advances the 
 following objection to the principle of w'elfare : " It is 
 conceivable that a person should sacrifice himself for 
 another ; it is conceivable that a person should yield 
 up life and possessions for definite ideal ends, for his
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 209 
 
 country, for freedom, for religion, for science. But it 
 has never come to pass, and never will, that people 
 shall renounce a thing solely to increase the sum of 
 happiness of the world." This objection overlooks 
 the fact that the principle of the valuation of an act 
 that is regarded as good need not be the motive to this 
 act. The thought and feeling of the person acting may 
 stop very properly at country, freedom, or any other 
 ideal object, without the person's instituting any formal 
 reflections whatsoever with regard to the reasons of 
 the value of the ideal ends for which he sacrifices him- 
 self. But in systematic ethics or in practical cases of 
 doubt we inquire what value and importance love of 
 country, freedom, poetry, and science possess for hu- 
 man life. If, for example, freedom were not a good 
 for a people, the individual would do wrong to sacri- 
 fice his life for it. It is never of course a question of 
 the abstract notion of welfare of and in itself, just as 
 in a single theoretical problem it is never a question 
 of the abstract idea of cause. But in ethics we lay 
 down the principle of welfare and in the theory of 
 knowledge the principle of causality ; endeavoring, 
 thus, to go back through analysis to the final assump- 
 tions of our practical and theoretical intellectual ac- 
 tivity. 
 
 3) It is no argument against the principle of wel- 
 fare that pleasure must be so often bought with pain. 
 Pain is in that case only the necessary transitional 
 step, and the significance of the principle of welfare is 
 precisely the requirement it makes that the duty of 
 demonstration shall rest on those who maintain the ne- 
 cessity of such an intermediary step. Any infliction of 
 pain must be supplied with a motive, whereas the feel- 
 ing of pleasure in and of itself (that is if its causes do
 
 210 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 not at the same time produce additional painful effects) 
 is justified. The principle of welfare simply says : Pro- 
 duce by thy conduct as much pleasure and as little 
 pain as is possible ! The degree to which it is possi- 
 ble to realise this demand, of this the principle in and 
 of itself says nothing. A principle is not subverted by 
 the difficulties of its application. 
 
 As experience teaches, there is a happiness that is 
 not bought too dearly with pain. Clara's song in 
 Goethe's "Egmont": 
 
 "Himmelhoch jauchzend, zuin Tode betriibt ! '" 
 
 has been cited in disproof of the principle of welfare. 
 But let us hear Clara to the end and note the last line 
 of the song, in which she gives the result of the entire 
 train of her emotion. She says : 
 
 " Gliicklich allein ist die Seele die liebt ! " 
 
 The phenomenon is this. There is a movement of 
 the heart and mind, a life of feeling, which are joined 
 with a satisfaction so deep and great that the powerful 
 oscillation between pleasure and pain does not destroy 
 the total feeling of happiness, but strengthens it. Two 
 psychological factors co-operate here. The one is, 
 that the pain (the dis-pleasure or grief), unless it trans- 
 cends a certain degree, forms the background of the 
 pleasurable feeling and is thereby able to intensify the 
 latter. In this very fact a sufficient motive lies to 
 choose conditions of this sort in preference to such as 
 do not stand so high in intensity but are nevertheless 
 conditions of more unmixed pleasure. The other fac- 
 tor is, that there can be an element of attraction even 
 in grief, simply because intense life, powerful move- 
 ment, and the straining of faculties that come with 
 it, produce of themselves satisfaction. All exertion of
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 211 
 
 power which is not out of proportion is connected with 
 a feeling of pleasure. The feeling of pleasure that ac- 
 companies grief and anxiety asserts itself in the fact 
 that we d-o not ivish to be transported out of it. An 
 important element here is also the organic process 
 connected with every powerful state of mind (the effect 
 of the condition of the brain on the circulation of the 
 blood, on breathing, and on the organs of digestion), 
 granting that it is not the whole cause. 
 
 When Auguste Comte lost the woman who exerted 
 so decisive an influence on the direction of his mind 
 in the last period of his life, he said once in an out- 
 burst of sorrow evoked by her memory : "I owe it to 
 thee alone that I shall not leave this life without hav- 
 ing known in a worthy manner the best emotion of 
 
 human nature Amid the severest pains that this 
 
 emotion can bring with it I have never ceased to feel 
 that the true condition of happiness is, to have filled 
 the heart — though it be with pain, aye with bitterest 
 pain." 
 
 Auguste Comte and Clara are accordingly quite in 
 agreement, and the ethics of welfare is in agreement 
 with them both. If we desire to be wholly secure 
 against pain and anxiety, then we dare not love any- 
 thing. But what if love were the greatest happiness, 
 even though it brought as much sorrow again with it ! 
 With powerful action and great fulness of life come 
 also great costs, great contrasts, and great vibrations. 
 Yet who has said that the highest was to be had for 
 little expenditure ? 
 
 The feeling of pleasure is the only psychological 
 criterion of health and power of life. That which in all 
 its immediate or remote effects in all the creatures that 
 it touches produces only pleasurable feeling, cannot
 
 212 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 possibly be condemned. Welfare, therefore, in the 
 sense of permanent pleasurable feeling, is the final 
 test-principle of action. Pain is everywhere the sign 
 of an incipient dissolution of life.* This is exhibited 
 in the simplest manner in the "physical" pain that 
 arises through the tearing of organic tissue. But it 
 also holds true of the "mental" pain that arises from 
 anxiety, doubt, or repentance. It points to a dishar- 
 mony between the different forces and impulses of the 
 mind, a disharmony that can lead to the dissolution 
 of consciousness. If pain is a necessary intermediary 
 step, the fact is partly founded in the two psycho- 
 logical laws above mentioned, partly also in the cir- 
 cumstance that it means the dissolution of something 
 in us that impedes a more free and more varied devel- 
 opment of life. Childbirth is accompanied with pain 
 because the new life can only come into the world at 
 the cost of the old. Analogously the knowledge of 
 truth is often gained with pain because prejudices and 
 illusions must first be shattered. In the pain of re- 
 pentance a lower self is dissolved in order that a new 
 and higher self may develop. 
 
 4) A circumstance that has especially fostered the 
 opposition to the principle of welfare is undoubtedly 
 the tendency to think exclusively, in connection with 
 the expression "pleasurable feeling," of the most ele- 
 mentary sensual forms of pleasure. The latter are not 
 excluded by the principle of welfare ; the principle, 
 however, takes all the aspects of human character into 
 consideration, maintaining that permanent pleasurable 
 feeling is not to be established with certainty if an es- 
 sential aspect of this character is neglected. The de- 
 
 * Compare my Psychology (Danish edition, pp. 315-318 ; German edition, 
 PP- 343-347)-
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 213 
 
 feet of elementary feelings of pleasure is that for the 
 great part they correspond to only momentary and 
 limited relations. 
 
 A being whose feeling is of a purely elementary 
 kind can maintain itself as long as the simple condi- 
 tions of life to which it is adapted do not change. 
 Thus some of the lowest animal forms like the infu- 
 soria and rhizopods appear to have existed throughout 
 infinitely long periods of time in exactly their present 
 condition. Here the adaptation to the given conditions 
 is as good as perfect. The same may be the case 
 with beings that at an earlier stage of their develop- 
 ment have possessed more developed organs and 
 forms. Animals that live free in their youth, after- 
 wards however as parasites, lead a purely elementary 
 life and lose all the nerves and muscles that do not di- 
 rectly subserve this form of existence. This is also true 
 of man. Of the Fuegians, whose wretched existence 
 (wretched in our eyes) he portrays in vivid colors 
 in his "Journey Around the World," Darwin says: 
 "There is no reason for believing that the Fuegians 
 are diminishing in number ; we must therefore assume 
 that they enjoy a sufficient measure of happiness (of 
 whatever character this may be) to give life value in 
 their eyes. Nature, which makes habit an irresistible 
 power and its effects hereditary, has fitted the Fuegian 
 to the climate and the products of his wretched coun- 
 try." Primitive peoples of a higher type even (and not 
 only primitive peoples) afford examples of an adapta- 
 tion to conditions which excludes all motives to change 
 and progress. It is dire necessity that has brought 
 man into the path of progress. Where such a compul 
 sion does not operate human emotional life is condi- 
 tioned by a narrow sphere of relations only and is there-
 
 214 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 fore itself narrow and restricted. Perhaps more com- 
 plete, more unmixed satisfaction can be obtained here 
 than would be possible under more manifold and more 
 complicated circumstances. A small vessel may be 
 fuller than a large one although it holds less.* 
 
 It might perhaps be objected to the principle of 
 welfare, that we should really be obliged, in consis- 
 tency with it, to make ourselves all little vessels, and 
 that agreeably to the principle an existence limited to 
 the primitive necessities of life and to purely elemen- 
 tary feelings, would stand just as high as a life taken 
 up with intellectual labor and the activity of culture, 
 or even higher, since an existence of the latter kind 
 could scarcely be accompanied with so unmixed and 
 secure a well-being, but would be united with trials 
 and efforts constantly renewed and with unrest ever 
 recurring. If — as it might be suggested — an existence 
 like that of the Fuegians appears poor and wretched 
 to us, since they often suffer from scarcity and want, 
 let us take another example. Alexander von Humboldt 
 came across a tribe in South America that lived from 
 banana trees, — trees so fruitful that an acre of land 
 planted with them would supply food for fifty human 
 beings. The trees require no real expenditure of la- 
 bor ; only the earth about their roots must be broken 
 with implements once or twice a year. The conse- 
 quence is that the tribe is stupid and uncivilised. But 
 the wants that it has are satisfied. 
 
 That which would make such a life unendurable 
 for us, the strong desire for activity, developmcjit, and 
 progress, this desire does not exist at such stages. It 
 
 * Fieri potest, ut vas aliquod minus majore plenius sit, quamvis liquoris 
 minus contineat Cartesius, Epistola iv, Ad principem Palatinem de sita 
 beata.
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 215 
 
 is, — a fact that must be remarked, — itself a consequence 
 of development and progress. 
 
 Whereas Lamarck assumed an inner, innate im- 
 pulse to development in all living creatures,* Darwin 
 maintains, on the ground of experience, that develop- 
 ment is invariably introduced by the influence of ex- 
 ternal causes. It was a difficulty to Lamarck how the 
 very lowest forms of life could continue their exist- 
 ence, why they had not long since developed to higher 
 stages. In Darwin's theory, which takes into consider- 
 ation the external conditions of development, there is 
 no difficulty on this point. A development that is fa- 
 vored in no way by external circumstances is simply 
 impossible. As regards human beings, the anthropol- 
 ogist Th. Waitz has clearly proved, that the impulse 
 and desire of development is itself a product of devel- 
 opment. To this effect he speaks in his treatise "The 
 Indians of North America," page 69 : "A people with- 
 out intercourse and not in competition with other peo- 
 ples, a people which supplies its natural wants with 
 relative ease or only by overcoming long accustomed 
 difficulties regarded as inevitable, directly from its 
 natural environment, and that feels satisfied therewith 
 and lives a happy life : from such a people it is not to 
 be expected that it will make any endeavors to civilise 
 itself. He that has what he needs and therefore feels 
 satisfied in all respects, will not work ; people do not 
 civilise themselves voluntarily in following some noble 
 instinct of the heart. Is it different in fact in our 
 modern society? Is not a long period of schooling 
 and culture previously necessary to instil in man an 
 interest for work as work ? How many are there among 
 
 * The theory of Lamark is made the sublect of an interesting criticism 
 by Herbert Spencer in his PrincipUs 0/ Biology, Part iii, Chap, 3.
 
 2i6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 the so-called learned and cultured that make endeavors 
 in behalf of the education of themselves and others 
 without they are required ! " 
 
 It is peculiar to the state of nature in contrast to 
 the state of civilisation, (in so far as a distinct contrast 
 may be asserted,) that in the former the impulse to 
 change of manner of life and thought must come from 
 without, whereas in the latter an impulse to progress 
 operates which be it now powerful be it now feeble 
 never ceases entirely to operate. This difference is 
 analogous to that that prevails between inorganic and 
 organic existence. It is the peculiar character of an 
 organism that the play of forces is preserved in it with 
 a certain independence of the effects of the moment 
 and of its immediate environment. So in civilised 
 peoples an impulse is aroused to change life in all di- 
 rections, to differentiate, to shape it, and to bring it to 
 a point in every single direction. Spiritual antennae 
 are grown which are in never ceasing movement. 
 Through this a new species of feeling also is possible, 
 a feeling that is determined not only by the definite ends 
 that are attained but which links itself with the work, 
 itnth the activity itself which is requisite to the acquisi- 
 tion of these ends. Man is thereby become more inde- 
 pendent and more free, and his mental life, especially 
 his emotional life, has gained in depth and intensity, 
 it now being no longer determined merely by the ex- 
 ternal world, but essentially by the forces that are 
 awakened in the inner world. Now ideal, and not 
 merely elementary feelings act, and higher demands 
 are made in life. 
 
 What I wish to maintain here is that the rise of 
 the itnpulse to development is in perfect accord with the 
 principle of welfare. That stability of the "state of
 
 THE PRIXCIPLE OF WELFARE. 217 
 
 nature " which now appears to us wretched now para- 
 disian, is itself dependent on tlie stabihty of external 
 conditions. Absolute stability, however, is not found 
 in nature. If the immediate surroundings do not 
 change, changes yet occur in other localities of nature 
 and among other creatures, and the struggle for exist- 
 ence then either causes them to perish or to change 
 in a corresponding manner. The beings that have 
 changed by adaptation will obtain a decided advantage 
 in the struggle for life over those that have remained 
 stationary. This is the fate of many primitive peoples, 
 or indeed civilised peoples, that have remained sta- 
 tionary or in a low state of culture. Extinction awaits 
 them when a higher civilisation approaches. 
 
 What is true of peoples and races also holds good 
 for individuals. A perfect adaptation to limited cir- 
 cumstances always involves a danger, — the danger 
 that the individual when its conditions of life are 
 changed and its horizon is enlarged w-ill lack the inner 
 conditions necessary to self-assertion. Childish naivete, 
 dreaming phantasy, sensual enjoyment, have each their 
 rights, but they easily lead to a condition of somnam- 
 bulism ; security and happiness are always precarious 
 here, and on awakening the greatest helplessness may 
 take their place. Here, let us add, we leave entirely 
 out of consideration the fact that such a condition 
 often exists only at the cost of other individuals. 
 
 Welfare, accordingly, cannot be conceived as a 
 passive state of things produced once for all and that 
 is not itself in turn the point of departure of new and 
 progressive development. Welfare, in the highest con- 
 ception of it, must consist of a condition in which 
 power is gathered and rich possibilities gained for the 
 future, and which generates an impulse to frame new
 
 21 8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 ends and to begin new endeavors. It is a condition 
 that is desirable in and of itself as well as one that con- 
 tains the germ of new desirable conditions, — a condi- 
 tion therefore that is not only an end but also a means, 
 that has value not only as effect but also as cause. 
 The feeling of pleasure is here directly bound up with 
 activity, work, development, the unfolding of forces 
 themselves, and not merely with the result that is ob- 
 tained by the employment of the forces. Where such 
 feeling of pleasure is possible there much suffering is 
 endurable that at a lower stage would be the sign of 
 the dissolution of all life. Expectation and longing, 
 privation and disappointment will not be lacking ; 
 they will accompany with definite rhythmical alterna- 
 tion the joyful advancement toward the aim that man 
 has set himself; but amid all oscillations the funda- 
 mental direction and the fundamental activity will be 
 asserted. We will not work to live, we will not live to 
 work ; but m work will we find life. 
 
 This is the ideal that the principle of welfare holds 
 up to us when thoroughly reasoned out. In how far 
 it can be realised is a question that can only be an- 
 swered experimentally for the time and the individual 
 in question. It demands not only a change of the 
 nature of individuals but also of the relations of so- 
 ciety. The essential thing however is, that we here 
 have a criterion by which we are able to test actions 
 and institutions. This criterion corresponds to a ten- 
 dency that leads throughout all organic nature, in that 
 pleasure as a rule means life and progress, pain, re- 
 trogression and death. The principle of welfare as- 
 serts the right of life : every creature has the right to 
 exist, to develop, and to obtain its full satisfaction, un- 
 less greater pain is thereby produced to itself or to
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 219 
 
 others. The ethics that builds upon the principle of 
 welfare seeks accordingly to continue the evolution of 
 nature in a conscious and harmonious manner. It 
 demands that means be found which the unconscious 
 development of nature have not supplied, and it strives 
 to mitigate or to exclude the unnecessary pain which 
 the struggle for existence brings with it. It embraces 
 a series of problems from compassionate alleviation 
 and assistance up to the highest social, intellectual, 
 and aesthetical endeavors. It is the business of special 
 ethics to treat these questions in detail. 
 
 5) From the fact, however, that welfare, properly 
 understood, consists in activity and development, it 
 does not follow that vice versa activity and develop- 
 ment are always joined with welfare or lead to welfare. 
 Because limitation of wants does not always lead to 
 the aim set, unlimited variety of wants is not neces- 
 sarily the proper state. Civilisation can assume forms 
 and enter on paths that do not harmonise with the 
 principle of welfare. We find in history accordingly, 
 at times, distinct and decisive warnings against existing 
 civilisations. Thus it was in Greece on the part of 
 Socrates, the Cynics, and the Stoics, in the eighteenth 
 century on the part of Rousseau, and in our day on 
 the part of Leo Tolstoi'. The opposition of such great 
 minds should surely make us watchful. 
 
 I leave out of consideration here the question in 
 how far that which we call civilisation can be imparted 
 to a people forthwith. The capacity for civilisation 
 has, it is true, been prematurely and overhastily de- 
 nied many primitive peoples.* But it is not there- 
 fore necessarily a good thing for a people to give up 
 the forms of life that it has developed by its own for- 
 
 * Compare my article in the Intertiational Journal of Ethics, No. I. p. Co.
 
 220 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 tunes and endeavors to allow itself to be regulated in 
 accordance with forms and ideals that have been de- 
 veloped under entirely different circumstances. Thus 
 directly, even the best-founded and most perfect civili- 
 sation cannot be communicated. Waitz who expressly 
 maintains that no proof has been brought forward of 
 the Indian's incapacity for civilisation, praises never- 
 theless the Indian chieftains who oppose the obtrusion 
 of civilisation on their people, for their love to their 
 people and their just comprehension of its true well- 
 being. 
 
 The reason why conflict can arise between civilisa- 
 tion and welfare lies in the restiveness and restlessness 
 of the aspirations of civilisation. It is the same with it 
 as with that spontaneous, involuntary impulse to move- 
 ment that leads to the use of forces and of the members 
 merel}^ because sufficient energy is present, without 
 their use being guided by the consideration of a more 
 valuable end, so that the results are accidental. The 
 effort that goes with civilisation may lead in part to 
 over-exertion, to an overstraining of forces ; in part (in 
 the case of extreme differentiation) to a one-sided direc- 
 tion of effort ; and partly to isolation, to the fragmen- 
 tary elimination of individual activities. In the single 
 individual certain faculties are fostered (in the one in- 
 telligence, in the other physical power for work) at the 
 cost of other faculties ; the harmony, the capacity of 
 feeling oneself as totality and unit}' is lacking. By 
 such one-sidedness the individual becomes of value 
 only as a wheel in a great machine : he serves merely 
 as a means, not as an end. And such a one-sided in- 
 dividual development is connected with a one-sided 
 social development. The suppression of certain fea- 
 tures of the nature of the individual goes hand in hand
 
 THE rRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 221 
 
 with tlic suppression of single estates and classes of 
 society. If we identify civilisation and ethics, without 
 qualification, and regard progress as a safer criterion 
 than welfare, we should overlook the fact that there 
 exists also a social qucstioti. The social question is an 
 ethical question and at the same time a question of the 
 correction of civilisation, — both by means of the prin- 
 ciple of welfare. Would it be right that the products 
 of material and ideal civilisation should onl}^ fall to 
 the share of a small minority, while all the rest should 
 not be able to participate therein? This would clash 
 completely with the ideal of society that flows from the 
 principle of welfare. For the greatest welfare is pres- 
 ent when every single individual so develops himself 
 in an independent manner that just by this independent 
 development of his own he assists others to a similar 
 development from their point of view. Then does 
 there exist a harj/wnious society of iiidepcndent personali- 
 ties. The idea of such a society is the highest ethical 
 idea that flows from the principle of welfare. Every in- 
 dividual is then a little world for himself and yet stands 
 in the most intimate reciprocal connection with the 
 great world of which he is a part. The individual serves 
 the race and the race serves the individual. Every 
 position of isolation, every inequality in the distribu- 
 tion of possessions and of employments must be founded 
 in the demands of the various circumstances and prob- 
 lems of life, and the faculties and impulses of each in- 
 dividual shall be developed as fully and richly as is 
 compatible with the conditions of life of the whole race. 
 6) It follows from the considerations presented, 
 that it is by no means always easy to appi}' the prin- 
 ciple of welfare in individual cases. The particular 
 relations of the affairs in question can be so compli-
 
 222 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 cated that we are not able to take a broad survey of 
 them and foresee the results of our interference. We 
 cannot deduce a priori from the principle of welfare 
 any system of particular acts, any determinate order 
 of society, any civilisation. Its value (like that of the 
 principle of causality in the theoretical field) is to pre- 
 sent and to formulate problems, and to serve as a 
 guide to their treatment. It is regulative, not con- 
 structive. It presumes the immediate involuntary life 
 of the individual and of society, and its function does 
 not begin until the conscious discussion and treatment 
 occurs of the value on the one hand of that which has 
 thus been developed, and on the other of the manner 
 in which the development shall be conducted in the 
 future. All ethics thus acquires an historical character. 
 We never — either in our own individuality or in society 
 — commence from the very beginning, but are always 
 obliged to start with a definite foundation and to work 
 our way further under the guidance of the principles 
 and ideals that spring from our nature. 
 
 in. 
 
 i) In the previous remarks I have essayed a dis- 
 cussion of the principle of welfare which may perhaps 
 make clearer what was not so distinct in my former 
 expositions (''Ethik," Chapters III and VII). The 
 difficulty always occurs in the enunciation of a prin- 
 ciple, that a direct demonstration of its validity cannot 
 be given. Of so much greater significance is it then if 
 an indirect proof can be adduced by showing that the 
 very ones Vv'ho contest it are themselves forced to em- 
 ploy it and actually to employ it without being aware 
 of it. 
 
 I maintain now that Dr. Paul Carus in his book
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 223 
 
 "The Ethical Problem," in which he combats the prin- 
 ciple of welfare, has not been able to avoid giving such 
 an indirect confirmation of the validity of this principle. 
 Before attempting to show this in detail I shall make a 
 few remarks concerning the criticism of my "Ethics" 
 which Dr. Carus wrote in the first number of The Mo- 
 nist, and which in an abbreviated form is also em- 
 bodied in the treatise above mentioned. 
 
 Dr. Carus thinks that I have practically surrend- 
 ered the principle of welfare when I define welfare to 
 consist in activity. His words are : 
 
 ' ' If welfare is to be interpreted as activity, work, development ; 
 if this kind of active welfare is the greatest good, whatever admix- 
 ture of pain and whatever absence of pleasurable feeling it may 
 have ; if the greatest amount of a state of continuous pleasurable 
 feeling is not welfare in an ethical sense, what becomes of the util- 
 itarian definition of welfare as pleasurable feeling ? If, however, 
 welfare is 'the state of a continuous pleasurable feeling,' how can 
 we declare that the life of a pessimistic philosopher is preferable to 
 that of a joyful fool ?" 
 
 To this I answer, that //it could be proved that in- 
 creasing pain followed necessarily on all advancement 
 of civilisation (without this pain being compensated 
 for, as Clara's philosophy demanded, by new and pro- 
 portionately greater feelings of pleasure), in that case 
 it would be impossible to combine civilisation and wel- 
 fare. But only a pessimistic dogmatism — which is 
 just as current in the atmosphere of to-day as optimis- 
 tic dogmatism — could assert this. What experience 
 teaches us is this, that we find ourselves amid a devel- 
 opment, in a line of tendencies the final results of 
 which we cannot foresee but which hitherto have 
 evoked at many points new forces and have thereby 
 opened new sources of satisfaction. Everything that 
 arouses our greatest and most permanent pleasurable
 
 224 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 feeling has arisen within this development. This jus- 
 tifies our courage and our hope in behalf of further 
 progress, although conflict and pain will as we may 
 foresee not be wanting, and although the way leads 
 through many deserts. Experience alone can show 
 how far we shall be able to get. I agree with Dr. Carus 
 that "this world of ours is not a world suited to the 
 taste of a pleasure-seeker," if we understand by pleas- 
 ure passive sensual enjoyment, an enjo3'ment which is 
 not united with the rest and nourishment with which 
 not only an immediate pleasurable feeling is connected 
 but whereby power is also gathered for continued en- 
 deavor. If so many pleasure-seekers go through life 
 without having their eyes opened to its true signifi- 
 cance and purpose, this fact is precisel}^ one of the 
 things that clash with the principle of v/elfare, for the 
 latter claims all faculties and powers, and demands 
 that they that sleep be awakened, — that is if they really 
 possess useful faculties. For perhaps the "joyful fool " 
 cannot accomplish more than he does. Wherefore 
 then disturb him, if his pleasure harms neither him- 
 self nor others and if his awakening will only lead to 
 unrest and pain for himself and perhaps also for others? 
 I pointed out the fact in my "Ethics,"* that we can 
 determine by the principle of welfare alone in what 
 cases we are to destroy a state of equilibrium or shatter 
 an illusion. 
 
 I have admitted the possibility of a conflict between 
 civilisation and welfare. Wherever such a conflict 
 arises, there, according to my conception, appears an 
 ethical problem, which must be determmed by the 
 principle of welfare, since any order of things or any 
 development that brought with it permanent and ever- 
 
 * Danish edition, p. 94. German edition, p. 109.
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 225 
 
 lasting pain would be in effect a dissolution of life it- 
 self. Such pain, however, (as even pessimistic phil- 
 osophers are optimistic enough to hope,) would de- 
 stroy the will to live. If we live in spite of pain it is 
 because there is always a surplus of satisfaction. 
 
 I give the idea of welfare no arbitrary extension 
 when I deny that it should be limited to denote a 
 passive condition produced once for all time. For our 
 nature is at no stage wholly complete; no one condi- 
 tion can stand therefore as definitive. The future, and 
 the new horizons opened, will make new demands on 
 our capacities and our will, and in the testing of any 
 state of things it must accordingly be a necessary point 
 of view to establish whether in addition to the direct 
 satisfaction which it probably affords it at the same 
 time prepares the capacities and the possibilities of a 
 continued development answering to the new relations. 
 It may be necessary to choose some arduous employ- 
 ment which later necessarily brings with it long con- 
 tinued rest and inactivity. Darwin's struggle with his 
 feeble health is a good example. The man who from 
 love of country or to save a fellow-being risks his life, 
 prefers the active satisfaction of a single moment (the 
 satisfaction, namely, which he feels beforehand at the 
 thought of saving his country or a human life) to the 
 passive joys of years and years. It was such a moment 
 in which Faust saw himself living in mind 
 "Auf freiem Grund mit freiem Volk " 
 and which thereby made life of value to him, which all 
 the earthly gratifications that the demon was able to 
 obtain for him could not accomplish. In the face of 
 the pleasure that such a moment can produce the 
 thought of pain and death vanishes. Thus alone is 
 self-sacrifice psychologically intelligible.
 
 225 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 2) While I cannot see that Dr. Carus has pointed 
 out a contradiction in my theory of welfare, I may fur- 
 ther assert that he himself cannot without a self-contra- 
 diction escape recognising the principle of welfare. 
 Dr. Carus indeed, in a certain sense, himself enun- 
 ciates this very principle. He saj's, in the preface to 
 "The Ethical Problem," page iii, "The aim of ethics 
 is neither the welfare of self nor that of other individ- 
 uals, but of those interests that are superindividual. " 
 The aim therefore is to be welfare, not however the 
 welfare of individuals but of "superindividual inter- 
 ests." This strange expression is defined in certain 
 subsequent passages of the book. Dr. Carus speaks, 
 namely, later on, of "that superindividual soul-life 
 which we call society."* It is admitted in this, that 
 when we speak of welfare we speak impliedly of soul- 
 life. But how can we give to society as such a soul- 
 life that is different from the soul-life of the single in- 
 dividuals that have their existence simultaneously and 
 successively in that society? This is merely a myth- 
 ical and mj^stical personification of society, which may 
 have arisen in the comparison, in many respects in. 
 structive, between society and an organism, which 
 however can possess at best a poetical, but no scien- 
 tific, value. The idea of society, if it is to be scien- 
 tifically employed, must always be so applied that at 
 every point the definite group of individuals which it 
 represents may be established. The great importance 
 of this idea consists in the fact that it expresses the 
 "ommon and permanent interests of individuals simul- 
 taneously and successively existing, in opposition to 
 the interests of single individuals, or of a smaller 
 group, or of a limited period of time. Ethical percep- 
 
 * Pages 33, 38, and 40.
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 227 
 
 tion, (unless it starts from the point of view of egois- 
 tical individualism,) must apply its test from the point 
 of view of society. It leads in this case to the consi- 
 deration of our own and others' actions not only with 
 respect to our own individual circumstances but sub 
 specie ceterni so to speak, that is with respect to their 
 relation to the great whole of which not only we, but 
 also other human beings arc parts. Along with the 
 educative power of authorities, it is due to the sym- 
 pathy in virtue of which the individual causes to re- 
 echo in his own bosom the feelings of others, that 
 ethical ideals have been formed in the human mind. 
 But as soon as it is made impossible to transpose the 
 idea of society into the idea of individuals that live 
 under certain definite conditions, this idea contains 
 no instruction for us in ethical respects. No ethical 
 norms can in this case be deduced from it. Emotional 
 mysticism takes the place of ethical thought and voli- 
 tion. 
 
 Such a mysticism has of course its value. Power- 
 ful emotion leads naturally to a state in which all de- 
 finite ideas recede, the mind becoming entirely occu- 
 pied by emotional feeling. It will furthermore be 
 difficult to represent by any adequate conception the 
 great multitude of human characters on which our 
 conduct in given circumstances can acquire decisive 
 influence. The expression "society," or "race," char- 
 acterises very well the unconcluded and the unsurvey- 
 able in so many of the consequences of human methods 
 of action and order of life, and it will therefore not be 
 possible to dispense witli it. But transposition into 
 concrete conceptions must always be possible. A wel- 
 fare that at one or another stage is not the welfare of 
 definite individuals is a self-contradiction, and any act
 
 228 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 that at one period or another does not lead to the 
 welfare of definite individuals has no value. 
 
 In Wundt's "Ethics," pages 429 to 431, the same 
 line of thought is found as this of Dr. Carus. Public 
 well-being and progress, according to Wundt, do not 
 consist in the well-being of the greatest possible num- 
 ber of individuals : for the individual is ephemeral ! 
 " However richly blest and however perfect the indi- 
 vidual existence may be, it is but a drop in the ocean 
 of life. What can individual happiness and individual 
 pain mean to the world ? " I should say to this : Yes, it 
 is true, the ocean does not exist for the sake of the in- 
 dividual drops ; but what is an ocean that does not con- 
 sist of drops ? And is not the whole ocean clear if every 
 single drop is clear ? And only then is it wholly clear. 
 
 Just as there are people v/ho cannot see the woods 
 for the trees, so there are also people who cannot see 
 the trees for the woods. In ethics this method of con- 
 ception leads to the consideration of human aspiration 
 as the means of superhuman ends. Every ethics that 
 seeks to stand on a basis of experience and remain 
 within the possibility of progressive verification, must 
 cling to the standpoint of "man with men." It need 
 not for this reason overlook the fact, that ethical con- 
 duct, like all unfolding of power, is connected with 
 the universal world-process. 
 
 3) Dr. Carus also approaches the principle of wel- 
 fare upon another, less mystical path. He maintains, 
 with great emphasis, that ethics must be based on 
 facts, on insight into the real, the actual, order of na- 
 ture. Our ideals — this is the opinion of Dr. Carus — 
 arise through the wants which the relations of reality 
 awaken in us, and must be realised by the means 
 which the relations of reality supply.
 
 THE PliLVC/PLE OF WELFARE. 229 
 
 "The new ethics is based upon facts and is applied to facts" 
 (p. 18). 
 
 " Man wants something, so he conceives the idea how good it 
 would be if he had it. . . . Only by studying facts will he be enabled 
 to realise his ideals" (pp. 19 and 20). 
 
 " If you wish to exist, obey reason. Reason teaches us how 
 to regulate our actions in conformity with the order of natural 
 laws. If we do regulate them in conformity with the order of nat- 
 ural laws, they will stand ; otherwise not. In the former case they 
 will be good, they will agree with the cosmical conditions of ex- 
 istence ; in the latter case they are bad, they will not agree with 
 the cosmical conditions of existence ; therefore they will necessarily 
 produce disorder and evil" (pp. 31, 32). 
 
 It appears to me clear from this, that the reason 
 why we must regulate our actions to conform with 
 natural laws, must be the fact that otherwise they can- 
 not "stand," which is explained more in detail in what 
 follows, to mean that they are constituted to produce 
 "disorder and evil," — which in its turn must be surely 
 understood as meaning that disorder is itself an evil. 
 If disorder were no evil, and if no further evils resulted 
 from actions which are not "in conformity with the 
 order of natural laws," what foundation would Dr. 
 Carus in that case be able to give his ethics? I wholly 
 agree with Dr. Carus that our conduct if it is to be 
 ethical must support itself upon as profound a compre- 
 hension of the relations of reality as ph3'sical science, 
 psychology, and social science alone can furnish. But 
 t/iis requireinent can only be made good through and by the 
 principle of welfare. It has validity only for the person 
 who wills that his conduct shall "stand " and produce 
 no evil, either in extended or in limited circles. If 
 pain and death were not evils, this requirement would 
 have no validity. 
 
 To judge from his somewhat indefinite expressions 
 one might suspect in Dr. Carus here a votary of ego-
 
 230 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 istic hedonism, were it not that a number of other pas- 
 sages in his book exclude this suspicion. 
 
 However, it seems quite clear to me that his 
 final criterion must coincide with the principle of wel- 
 fare. His ethics is an ethics of expediency, in that his 
 ultimate criterion is the influence of actions on the life 
 of mankind. 
 
 4) Dr. Carus justly emphasises the relation of ethics 
 to our world-conception at large. But this connection 
 does not mean that ethics can be derived by deduction 
 from a philosophical system previously given. Ethics 
 is an independent discipline which starts from its own 
 peculiar assumptions (which cannot of course stand in 
 contradiction to other established assumptions), al- 
 though it is obliged to make much use of the results 
 furnished by other sciences. Ethics has an independ- 
 ent foundation in the law^s of feeling and volitional 
 life, just as the theory of knowledge has its foundation 
 in the laws of sensations and perceptions. In con- 
 formity with the law of economy, (which must prevail 
 in science even though it should not prevail in nature,) 
 we must restrict the established postulates of the single 
 sciences to the least possible limit. If after doing this 
 agreement between the single sciences finally occurs, 
 this result will be all the more valuable. 
 
 According to Dr. Carus ethics is to be derived now 
 from a philosophical total world-conception, as ac- 
 cording to his view ("The Ethical Problem," p. 71) it 
 originally arose through the influence of the positive 
 religions.* Very weighty objections can be made in 
 my opinion against this latter assumption. It is a fact 
 
 * Dr. Carus expresses himself differently in The Open Court (1890, p. 2549) 
 where religion and ethics are called twins; whereas in The Ethical Problem 
 the latter is the daughter of the former.
 
 TJIK PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 231 
 
 that the lower a reh'gion stands the less ethical char- 
 acter it possesses, and the very lowest religions it is 
 probable possess no ethical value whatever. The ques- 
 tion then arises how religion gradually acquired its 
 ethical character. The ethical ideas which were per- 
 ceived in the nature of the deity must have had a 
 natural origin, and this origin can be sought only in 
 the life of man with men. The ethical norms and 
 ideas developed themselves here spontaneously and 
 have been just as spontaneously projected or hyposta- 
 tised as the attributes of divinity. In the history of 
 the religion of Greece we can see clearly exhibited the 
 development of gods as powers of nature to gods as 
 the expression of an ethical order of nature. Compare 
 for instance, the Dodonaean and the Homeric Zeus 
 with the Zeus that appears in the ideal belief of ^Eschy- 
 lus. The experiences are made in human life that lead 
 to the formation of divine ideals. Gods grow better 
 and more gentle according as men themselves grow 
 better and gentler. Religious conceptions are idealised 
 experiences. If religion is a factor in the development 
 of ethics it is because man conceives and represents 
 his essential ideals in a religious form. The move- 
 ment proceeds therefore from experience to expe- 
 rience ; that which acts on nature is, as Shakespeare 
 says, always an art that has been produced by nature 
 itself. How could man understand the meaning of the 
 ethical qualities attributed to his deities if he were not 
 acquainted to some extent with these qualities through 
 experience ? 
 
 That which distinguishes philosophical from theo- 
 logical ethics is not the fact that the former is con- 
 structed on the basis of some philosophical system and 
 the latter upon ecclesiastical dogmatism, but the fact
 
 232 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 that philosophical ethics brings out into full conscious- 
 ness the psychological basis upon which ethical life 
 has actually always more or less indirectly builded, and 
 draws all the consequences implied in this. In this it 
 furnishes an independent contribution to a philosoph- 
 ical system. 
 
 5) It seems to me to be perfectly justified, that the 
 distinguished men who lead the Ethical Societies keep 
 these institutions as independent as possible not only 
 of all definite dogmatic tendency oi thought but also 
 of all unnecessary philosophical hypotheses and specu- 
 lations. With respect to what concerns the first prin- 
 ciples of ethics itself, it is not necessary for the prac- 
 tical ethicist to occupy any definite point of view, 
 although it would be very fortunate if he were ac- 
 quainted with the discussion of these principles and 
 could take part in an independent manner in the same. 
 He who proposes to teach applied mathematics or em- 
 ploy it in practice need not begin with a definite posi- 
 tion with respect to the nature and origin of mathe- 
 matical principles. So also in ethics there is a complete 
 group of ideas and endeavors which are independent 
 of the manner in which the first principles are con- 
 ceived. The essential thing for the Ethical Societies 
 is, (as Dr. Stanton Coit has said in his beautiful book 
 " Die Ethische Bewegung in der Religion,") agreement 
 as to the methods of development of character and as 
 to the type of character to be developed. 
 
 Dr. Cams can have really nothing to object to in 
 this method of conception, inasmuch as it is his con- 
 viction that in the passage from the supernatural to 
 the natural establishment of ethics the '* substance of 
 our morality " will not be changed. In an article in 
 The Open Court, at page 2575, he says : ••'The most im-
 
 THE PRINCIPLE OF WELFARE. 233 
 
 portant moral rules are not to be altered Some 
 
 of them will be altered as little as our arithmetical table 
 can be changed." In this passage less importance for 
 the contents of ethics is attributed to the various points 
 of view than I should be obliged to assign. Yet all the 
 sooner should Dr. Carus really admit that the Ethical 
 Societies have added to their other services that of 
 holding a proper course between the different dogmatic 
 and philosophical systems. 
 
 6) This last dispute it appears to me also testifies 
 to the expediency of distinguishing between the differ- 
 ent ethical problems. By so doing Dr. Carus would 
 also have been more just in his position with regard to 
 utilitarianism. The latter has not arisen so much from 
 the impulse to supply a motive for ethical conduct as 
 from the impulse to acquire an absolute criterion. It 
 is true the powerful influence of Hobbes and Locke 
 brought it about that many of the later utilitarians em- 
 braced the egoistic theory ; but by their side marched 
 another group of utiHtarian ethicists (among the earlier, 
 Bacon, Cumberland, Shaftesbury, and Hutcheson) 
 who did not subscribe to this theory. So far as I know, 
 Hutcheson was the first with whom the furmula occurs: 
 "The greatest happiness of the greatest number." 
 These very historical facts show how important it is in 
 the treatment of ethical problems to apply the maxim 
 " Divide et impera !" I have therefore prefaced this 
 my apology for the principle of welfare by calling at- 
 tention to the relative and mutual independence of 
 ethical problems.
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS AN OBJECTIVE 
 
 REALITY. 
 
 I. TWO DEFINITIONS OF GOOD. 
 
 While Mr. Herbert Spencer in his "Data of 
 Ethics" may be considered as the most persuasive 
 and popular, Prof. Harald Hoffding, it appears to me, 
 is the most scholarly and learned expounder of that 
 ethical theory which bases morality upon the prin- 
 ciple of the greatest happiness for the greatest num- 
 ber. The Monist No. I contained (pp. 1 39-141) a 
 criticism of mine on Professor Hoffding's Ethics, and 
 Professor Hoffding's article which originally appeared 
 in No. 4 of The Monist is in part a further exposition 
 of his views, and in part an answer to my criticism, 
 which is here reproduced as follows : 
 
 Harald Hoffding, Professor at the University of 
 Copenhagen is a representative thinker among ethical 
 scholars. Unhesitatingly he takes his stand upon the 
 real facts of life and attempts to construct a system of 
 ethics which shall be a science among the other sci- 
 ences. Professor Hoffding says in the preface of his 
 ethics :* 
 
 " If we see the snow-covered peaks of a mountain range from 
 a far distance, they seem to hover in the air. Not until we ap- 
 proach do we discover plainly that they rest upon solid ground. It 
 
 * The pages of the quotations refer to the German edition.
 
 THE CRITERIOM OF ETHICS. 235 
 
 is the same with ethical principles. In the first enthusiasm one 
 imagines that a place should be assigned to them above the reality 
 of nature and life. On further reflection and after a long expe- 
 rience, which must perhaps be dearly bought, we discover that the 
 ethical principles can regulate life only if they have really pro- 
 ceeded from life." 
 
 Professor Hoffding is in a certain sense a utilita- 
 rian. The influence of utilitarian systems upon his 
 mode of thought can be traced throughout the whole 
 work, and it is this influence perhaps to which the 
 Danish Professor owes his positive standpoint as well 
 as the scientific method of his procedure. Neverthe- 
 less he differs from the ordinary utilitarian school and 
 prefers to characterise his system as an ethics of gen- 
 eral welfare. He says : 
 
 " The so-called utilitarianism, — that ethical conception which 
 has been founded mainly by Bentham, — has the merit of having 
 for the first time energetically propounded the principle of welfare. 
 Yet Bentham has detracted from his cause by proceeding from a 
 psychological theory which considers consciousness as a sum of 
 ideas and feelings, and dissolves society into a number of individ- 
 uals. The import of pleasurable and painful feelings for the con- 
 tinuous and general welfare cannot be established by a mere pro- 
 cess of calculation." (P. 37.) 
 
 Professor Hoffding opens the first chapter of his 
 work with the following sentence : 
 
 "Ethical judgments contain a valuation of human actions. 
 . . . The criterion of the ethical valuation is the contents of ethics." 
 
 If life consisted of isolated sovereign moments, 
 
 every one of them would have an equal right, and no 
 
 one would be obliged to resign in favor of any other 
 
 moment. No valuation, no discrimination would be 
 
 required. But the life of each individual, as well as 
 
 the life of society, makes up a "life-totality," and we 
 
 possess a conception of this life-totality. " If the state 
 
 of feeling in a single moment agrees with the concep-
 
 236 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 tion of the life-totalit)-, a new feeling arises which is 
 determined by this mutual relation. . . . The ethical 
 valuation is conditioned by this feeling. " (P. 27.) Tak- 
 ing this ground, Professor Hoffding defines good and 
 bad in the following way : 
 
 ' ' ' Good ' accordingly becomes that which preserves the life- 
 totality and gives fulness and life to its contents; 'bad,' on the 
 contrary, that which has more or less the tendency to dissolve or 
 to limit the life-totality and its contents. Bad accordingly is the 
 single moment, the separate impulse in its revolutionary isolation 
 from the rest of life. ..." (P. 29.) 
 
 ' ' The Bad, therefore, is egotism in its various degrees and va- 
 rious forms. And the verdict about it will be the severer the more 
 conscious this egotism is." 
 
 Utilitarianism as a rule has been hedonistic. Utili- 
 tarians have proposed as the criterion of an ethical 
 valuation the consequences of an act ; if the conse- 
 quences give more pleasure than pain, it is said to be 
 good ; if they are attended with more pain than pleas- 
 ure, it is said to be bad. In the above quoted defini- 
 tions by Professor Hoffding there is no trace of hedon- 
 ism, and I should consider an ethical system based 
 upon these definitions as being in strong opposition to 
 hedonism. But Professor Hoffding appears to have 
 been so strongly biased by the influence of hedonistic 
 utilitarianism, that he introduces again its fundamen- 
 tal idea, which identifies the good with the pleasur- 
 able. Although he objects to employing the terms 
 "utility" and "happiness," "because they are liable 
 to lead to misunderstandings and have indeed done 
 so "; although he declares that "momentary feelings of 
 pleasure and pain are no sure criterion for the total 
 state" (p. 37); although for such reasons he proposes 
 the word welfare, saying, "by the word 'welfare' I 
 think of everything which serves to satisfy the wants
 
 THE CRITERION' OF ETHICS. 237 
 
 of human nature in its whole entirety"; still Professor 
 Hoffding again returns to hedonism by limiting the 
 idea "welfare" to the hedonistic conception of good- 
 ness. He defines welfare as "a continuous state of 
 pleasurable feelings." (P. 98.) 
 
 Thus we are presented with two definitions of what 
 constitutes the criterion of an ethical valuation : (i) 
 that which promotes the life-totality, and (2) that 
 which produces a continuous state of pleasurable feel- 
 ing. 
 
 These two definitions are in many respect harmo- 
 nious, but on the other hand they may come into con- 
 flict ; and if they come into conflict, which of the two 
 is to be sacrificed ? Supposing that a contemplation 
 of the evolution of organised life should teach us that 
 the development of a "life-totality" is not at all a 
 pleasurable process ; that on the contrary it is attended 
 with excessive and innumerable pains. Inorganic na- 
 ture so far as we can judge is free from pain. The 
 isolated atom, we may assume, exists in a state of in- 
 difference. Supposing now that pain could be proved 
 to increase, the higher we rise in the development of 
 a life-totality ; supposing that the growth of a life- 
 totality had to be bought w^ith pain, what would be the 
 consequence ? I will not here enter into the subject, 
 but I may mention that this supposition is not at all 
 without foundation. Assuming that it were so, would 
 not, in such a case, the good be as Schopenhauer, 
 Hartmann, and Mainlaender propose, that which de- 
 stroys the life-totality of consciousness and with it the 
 whole world of civilised humanity, built up of the in- 
 numerable consciousnesses of individuals? 
 
 Professor Hoffding has seen this difficulty, which 
 arises from a conflict of the two criteria of ethical val-
 
 238 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 nation (i) the hedonistic principle and (2) the prin- 
 ciple of progress, i. e. the constant evolution of a higher 
 life-totality. He says : 
 
 "John Stuart Mill has declared that it is better to be a dissat- 
 isfied man than a satisfied pig, a dissatisfied Socrates than a satis- 
 fied fool. He bases this assertion upon the fact that even if the 
 pig and the fool were of a contrary mind, their opinion would have 
 to be rejected, since they possess no knowledge of the higher point 
 of view from which man and Socrates consider life, whereas man 
 knows the needs of the pig and Socrates fathoms the fool. We 
 must be regulated by the judgment of those that know the two 
 kinds of needs in question and that are consequently able to insti- 
 tute an estimation of the value of the same. 
 
 "But I feel obliged to put in a word for the pig and the fool. 
 The difficulty is greater than Mill imagines. Man, it is true, knows 
 all the wants of the pig, and it would not be difficult for a Socrates 
 to comprehend those of the fool. But man does not have the wants 
 of the pig, nor Socrates those of the fool, as his sole and only dom- 
 inant wants. And yet this is the very circumstance that determines 
 the matter Man cannot transform himself into a pig without 
 ceasing to be a man, and a Socrates will hardly be able so to identify 
 himself with a fool as to lose completely his Socratic wants. If, 
 now, the pig can attain the complete satisfaction of all his wants, is 
 not his happiness greater than that of man whose desires and whose 
 longings are never wholly satisfied ? And the fool, who does not 
 nourish many thoughts and makes no great demands upon life, is 
 he not happier than Socrates who spends his whole life in striving 
 to know himself and to stimulate others, only finally to declare that 
 death is really preferable to life ? " 
 
 Professor Hoffding's solution of the difficulty is 
 summed up in the following paragraph : 
 
 ■'Welfare is an illusion if we understand by it a passive con- 
 dition of things, created once for all. It must consist in action, 
 work, development. Rest can only mean a termination for the time 
 being, the attainment of a new level, upon which it is possible for 
 a new course of development to proceed." 
 
 Thus it appears that Professor Hoffding decides in 
 favor of the second principle. The evolution of the
 
 THE CR ITER 10 IV OE ETHICS. 239 
 
 life-totality is considered higher than a continuous state 
 of pleasurable feeling. Nevertheless Professor Hoff- 
 ding adds : 
 
 " On that account, however, we are not obliged to retract our 
 first definition of welfare as that of a continuous state of pleasur- 
 able feeling. That which must be rejected is only the notion of a 
 passive state." 
 
 Truly, as Professor Hoffding says, ''the difficulty 
 is greater than Mr. Mill imagined." The difficulty is 
 great enough to undermine the whole basis upon which 
 welfare is defined as " a state of continuous pleasur- 
 able feeling." If, as Professor Hoffding declares, wel- 
 fare is to be interpreted as activity, work, develop- 
 ment ; if this kind of active welfare is the greatest 
 good, whatever admixture of pain and whatever ab- 
 sence of pleasurable feeling it may have ; if the greatest 
 amount of a state of continuous pleasurable feeling is 
 not welfare in an ethical sense, what becomes of the 
 utilitarian definition of welfare as pleasurable feeling? 
 If, however, welfare is "the state of a continuous pleas- 
 urable feeling," how can we declare that the life of a 
 pessimistic philosopher is preferable to that of a joyful 
 fool? 
 
 Must not the ultimate reason of this conflict be 
 sought in Professor Hoffding's statement that — 
 
 "The proposition of a purpose presupposes in the subject 
 which makes the proposition feelings of pleasure and displeasure." 
 (P. 30.) 
 
 Should we not rather say that the proposition of a 
 purpose presupposes an expression of 7oill in the sub- 
 ject which makes the proposition? Wherever there 
 is will, there is also approval and disapproval, but ap- 
 proval is not always pleasurable and disapproval is 
 not always attended with displeasure. Does it not
 
 240 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 often happen that we cannot help disapproving of 
 things which please us? 
 
 Professor Hoffding's present explanation of the 
 subject does not satisfy me. The main point of my 
 criticism, it seems to me, has not been answered, and 
 the difficulty is not overcome. Professor Hoffding 
 declares that the strong desire for activity, develop- 
 ment, and progress does not exist at all stages. It is 
 itself a consequence of development and progress (p. 
 537). This, it may be granted, explains why a civil- 
 ised society cannot help developing workers that plod 
 and toil, finding no satisfaction unless they plod and 
 toil; but it does not explain why (if after all the crite 
 rion of our ethical judgment remains happiness or the 
 continuous state of pleasurable feelings) their state is 
 preferable to that of indolent and happy savages. 
 
 Professor Hoffding says : 
 
 " If \i could be proved that increasing pain followed necessa- 
 rily on all advancement of civilisation .... in that case it would be 
 impossible to combine civilisation and welfare" (i. e. a continuous 
 state of pleasurable feelings). 
 
 Well, //that be so, — as Professor Hoffding himself 
 in the comparison of man to a pig and of Socrates to 
 a fool has actually conceded to be true, — if we stand 
 between the dilemma of civilisation and welfare, or in 
 other words if we have the choice only between a 
 higher stage of life and a happier state of existence, 
 which is preferable? That which Professor Hoffding 
 considers as preferable is his true criterion of what he 
 calls good. The other one holds only so long as it 
 agrees with his true and final criterion, so long as it 
 does not come in conflict with it. 
 
 Suppose we select as the final criterion of ethics not 
 the growth and development of the life-totality, but
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 241 
 
 that of procuring to the greatest number of men, as 
 much as possible, a continuous state of pleasurable 
 feelings, — what will be the outcome of it? Can we 
 suppose that, if these two principles collide, we shall 
 be able to stop growth? Can we expect to overcome 
 nature and to curtail natural evolution so as to bring 
 about a more favorable balance between our pleasures 
 and pains? If we do, we shall soon find out that we 
 have reckoned without our host. 
 
 A conflict between civilisation and welfare, (1. e. 
 between natural evolution and our pleasurable feel- 
 ings,) would not discontinue civilisation as Professor 
 Hoffding supposes, it would rather produce a change 
 in what we have to consider as welfare. We have to be 
 pleased with the development of our race according to 
 the laws of nature, and those who are displeased might 
 just as well commit suicide at once, for they will go to 
 the wall, they will disappear from the stage of life. 
 Those alone will survive who are pleased with that 
 which the laws of nature demand. 
 
 Our pleasurable feelings are subjective, nature and 
 the laws of evolution are objective. The criterion of 
 ethics is not subjective but objective. The question 
 is not what produces pleasurable feelings, but what is 
 the unalterable order of the world with which we have 
 to be pleased. 
 
 The question of ethics, in my mind, is not what we 
 wish to do or what we think we ought to do, but mhat 
 we must do. Nature prescribes a definite course. If we 
 choose another one, we shall not reach our aim, and 
 if we reach it, it will be for a short time only. 
 
 The aim of nature is not the happiness of living 
 beings, the aim of nature, in the realm of organised 
 life, is growth, development, evolution. Pleasures and
 
 242 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 pains are phases in the household of hfe, they are not 
 Hfe's aim. Experience shows that in reaching a higher 
 stage we acquire an additional sensibility for both, for 
 new pleasures and new pains. The pleasures of hu- 
 man existence in comparison with those of animals 
 have been as much intensified and increased as the 
 pains. The ratio has on the average remained about 
 the same and it has rarely risen in favor of pleasures. 
 Rather the reverse takes place : the higher man loses 
 the taste of enjoying himself without losing the sensi- 
 tiveness of pain. 
 
 Ethics, as a science and from the standpoint of 
 positivism, has to inquire what according to the na- 
 ture of things we must do. It has to study facts and 
 from facts it has to derive rules (the moral prescripts) 
 which will assist us in doing at once what we shall 
 after all have to do. The criterion of ethics is not some 
 standard which we put up ourselves, the criterion of 
 ethics is agreement with facts. 
 
 II. THE AUTHORITY OF MORAL COMMANDS. 
 
 Professor Hoffding emphasises " the fact that there 
 is not merely one single ethical problem but many" — 
 a fact which cannot be denied, for there are, indeed, 
 innumerable problems of an ethical nature. However, 
 we must bear in mind that all the ethical problems are 
 closely interconnected. The better we understand 
 them, the more shall we recognise that all together 
 form one great system of problems, and that one prob- 
 lem lies at the bottom of all. This one basic problem 
 I have called the ethical problem. 
 
 The solution of the basic problem of ethics will not 
 involve the ready solution of all the rest, but we can
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 243 
 
 be sure that it will throw light upon any question that 
 is of an ethical nature. 
 
 Professor Hoffding recognises the importance of 
 system in ethics. He says : 
 
 "The systematism of ethical science is still so little advanced 
 that it is necessary to draw out a general outline before we pass 
 on to any single feature. The value of systematism is namely 
 this, that we are immediately enabled to see the connection of the 
 single questions with one another as well as their distinctive pe- 
 culiarity. " 
 
 It appears almost unfair toward the present state of 
 ethical science when Professor Hoffding adds : 
 
 "In ethics we are not yet so far advanced." 
 
 If we were not, we should do our best to advance 
 so as to recognise the unity of all ethical problems. 
 We must first recognise tlie ethical problem, before 
 we can with any hope of success approach the many, 
 which are dependent upon the one. 
 
 Which is the one basic problem of ethics ? 
 
 We read in Matthew, xxi. 23 : 
 
 "And when Jesus was come into the temple, the chief priests 
 and the elders of the people came unto him as he was teaching 
 and said. By what authority doest thou these things ? and who gave 
 thee this authority ?" 
 
 This question is legitimate and all our ethical con- 
 ceptions must necessarily depend upon the answer 
 which we accept as satisfactory. The basic problem 
 of ethics is the foundation of ethics, it is the justifica- 
 tion of the ethical prescripts, it is the discovery of the 
 authority upon which ethical rules are based. If there 
 were no power that enforces a certain line of conduct, 
 ethics in my opinion would have no right of existence : 
 and if any one preaches certain commands, he is bound 
 to give satisfactory reasons why we must obey his com- 
 mands.
 
 244 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Professor Hoffding says that ethics "starts from 
 its own assumptions" (p. iir). Ethics should not 
 start from any assumptions. 
 
 If we are to come to a mutual understanding we 
 must drop all subjectivism, we must not study ethics 
 from special points of view, from the principles or 
 standards of any individual or group of individuals. 
 There is not the slightest use of a person making him- 
 self any ''highest and only aim" which, it may be 
 true, " from his point of view can never be refuted." 
 So long as ethics starts from assumptions or prin- 
 ciples, it will be no science ; for trul}', as Professor 
 Hoffding says in excuse of the inability to prove prin- 
 ciples, ''The difficulty always occurs in the enuncia- 
 tion of a principle that a direct demonstration of its 
 validity cannot be given." 
 
 The requirement of ethics is to arrive at state- 
 ments of fact. Let us build upon facts and we shall 
 stand upon solid ground. 
 
 Ethics in order to be scientific must be based upon 
 the objective and unalterable order of things, upon the 
 ascertainable data of experience, upon the laws of na- 
 ture. 
 
 Professor Hoffding says : 
 
 "Religious ethics is founded on authority. Its contents are 
 the revealed commands of authority ; ih.e feeling which impels us 
 to pass ethical Judgments is the fear or reverence or love with 
 which men are filled in the presence of divine authority." 
 
 Scientific ethics can in this respect not be dif- 
 ferent from religious ethics, for it is also based upon 
 authority. A scientific ethicist has to proceed like 
 any other naturalist ; he must observe the course of 
 events and attempt to discover the laws in accordance 
 with which the events take place. These laws are no
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 245 
 
 less unalterable than any other natural laws, and wc 
 may appropriately call them the natural laws of ethics. 
 The moral commands of ethical teachers have been 
 derived, either instinctively or with a clear scientific in- 
 sight, from the natural laws of ethics. The authority of 
 the natural laws of ethics has been decked out by dif- 
 ferent religious teachers with more or less mytholog- 
 ical tinsel or wrapped in mystic darkness ; for practi- 
 cal purposes it remained to some limited extent the 
 same and will to some extent always remain the same, 
 for we shall have to obey the moral law, be it from 
 fear, or reverence, or love. 
 
 The unity of all the ethical problems will be pre- 
 served, however much they may be differentiated. In- 
 deed Professor Hoffding in his enumeration sufficiently 
 indicates their interconnection. He speaks of (i) the 
 motive principle of judgment, (2) the test-principle of 
 judgment, and (3) of the motive to action. Whatever 
 difference he makes between these three terms, it is ob- 
 vious that whether and how far judgments, tests, or 
 motives are sound will depend upon their agreement 
 with the authority of the natural law of ethics. The 
 pedagogic problem is also connected with the ethical 
 problem because upon our solution of the latter will 
 directly depend the aim and indirectly also the method 
 of education. Such complex motives as "ambition or 
 the instinct of acquisition" will become "the means of 
 attaining to true ethical self-assertion " in the degree 
 proportional to the elements they contain which will 
 strengthen our efforts of setting us at one with the 
 natural law of ethics. 
 
 To sum up : The natural law of ethics has to be 
 derived from facts like all other natural laws. The 
 natural law of ethics is the authority upon which all
 
 246 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 moral commands are based, and agreement with the 
 natural law of ethics is the final criterion of ethics. 
 
 III. ETHICS AND WELFARE. 
 
 I have no objection to an ethics of welfare ; on the 
 contrary, I consider every ethics as an ethics of wel- 
 fare. My objection to Professor Hoffding's ethics is 
 solely directed against his definition of welfare as " a 
 continuous state of pleasurable feelings." Welfare is 
 according to my terminology that state of things which 
 is in accord with the natural law of ethics, and it so 
 happens that welfare must as a rule not only be bought, 
 but also constantly maintained with many pains, 
 troubles, anxieties, and sacrifices. It is true that upon 
 the whole there may be a surplus of happiness and of 
 satisfaction, if not of pleasures ; but the surplus of 
 happiness (important though it is) does not constitute 
 that which is morally good in welfare. Morally good 
 (the characteristic feature of the ethical idea of wel- 
 fare) is that which is in accord with the natural law of 
 ethics. 
 
 If the term "utihty"were defined by utilitarians 
 in the sense in which I define welfare, I should also 
 have no objection to utilitarianism. The utilitarians, 
 however, define their theory as "the Greatest Happi- 
 ness Principle," and if "useful" is taken in its ordi- 
 nary sense as that which is profitable or advantageous, 
 it makes of utilitarianism an ethics of expediency. 
 
 IV. FEELINGS AND JUDGMENTS. 
 
 The fundamental difference between Professor 
 Hoffding and myself, and as it seems to me his npc^rov 
 tpevdos, lies in his definition of ethical judgments. He 
 says :
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 247 
 
 "Ethical judgments, judgments concerning good and bad, in 
 their simplest form are expressions of feeling, and never lose that 
 character however much influence clear and reasoned knowledge 
 may acquire with respect to them." 
 
 I am very well aware of the fact that all thinking 
 beings are first feeling beings. Thought cannot de- 
 velop in the absence of feeling. Without feeling there 
 is no thought ; but thought is not feeling, and feeling 
 is not thought.* By thought I understand the opera- 
 tions that take place among representative feelings, and 
 the essential feature of these feelings is not whether 
 they are pleasurable or painful, but that they are cor- 
 rect representations. Judgments are perhaps the most 
 important mental operations. There are logical judg- 
 ments, legal judgments, ethical judgments, etc. In 
 none of them is the feeling element of mental activity 
 of any account. That which makes of them judgments 
 is the reasoning or the thought-activity. Whether a 
 judgment is correct or not does not depend upon the 
 feeling that may be associated with it, but it depends 
 upon the truth of its several ideas and the propriety of 
 their connection. 
 
 A judgment, be it logical, juridical, ethical, or any 
 other, is the more liable to be wrong, the more we al- 
 low the feeling element to play a part in it. Judgments 
 swayed by strong feelings become biassed ; they can 
 attain to the ideal of truth only by an entire elimination 
 of feeling. t 
 
 Ethics in which the feeling element is the main 
 spring of action, is called sentimentalism. Sentimen- 
 
 * See the chapter " The Nature of Thought " in The Soul of Man, p. 354. 
 
 t Professor Hiiffding says : "The feeling of pleasure is the only psycho- 
 logical criterion of health and power of life." Every physician knows the in- 
 sufficiency of this criterion. Many consumptives declare that they feel per- 
 fectly well even a few hours before their death.
 
 248 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 tal ethics have no more right to exist than a sentimental 
 logic or a sentimental jurisprudence. 
 
 The philosophy of Clarchen in " Egmont " appears 
 to be very strong sentimentalism, and I do not believe 
 that her demeanor can be set up as an example for im- 
 itation. Her love happiness is an intoxication. She 
 vacillates between two extremes, now Jdmmelhoch jauch- 
 zend and nov/ zuin Tode betriibt, and her life ends in in- 
 sanit5^ 
 
 To consider ethical or any other judgments as feel- 
 ings, and to explain their nature accordingly, seems 
 to me no better than to speak of concepts as consist- 
 ing of vowels and consonants, and to explain the na- 
 ture of conceptual thought from the sounds of the let- 
 ters. We cannot speak without uttering sounds, but 
 the laws of speech or of grammar have, nothing to do 
 with sound and cannot be explained in terms of sound. 
 When we think and judge, we are most assuredly feel- 
 ing, but the feeling is of no account, and whether the 
 feeling is pleasurable, or painful, or indifferent, has 
 nothing to do whatever with the correctness or the 
 ethical value of judgments. 
 
 V. PLEASURE AND PAIN. 
 
 It is very strange that, so far as I am aware, no 
 ethicist who bases ethics upon the Happiness Prin- 
 ciple has ever investigated the nature of pleasure and 
 pain. It is generally assumed that pleasure is an indi- 
 cation of growth and pain of decay, but it has never 
 been proved, and after a careful consideration of this 
 theory I have come to the conclusion that it is based 
 upon an error. Growth is rarely accompanied with 
 pleasure and deca}^ is mostly painless.
 
 ■J'HE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 249 
 
 Optimistic philosophers look upon pleasure as posi- 
 tive and pain as negative, while the great pessimist 
 Schopenhauer turns the tables and saj's pleasure is 
 negative and pain positive. 
 
 An impartial consideration of the subject will show 
 that both pleasure and pain are positive. Pain is felt 
 whenever disturbances take place, pleasure is felt 
 whenever wants are satisfied, and unsatisfied wants 
 are perhaps the most prominent among the distur- 
 bances that produce pain.* 
 
 Professor Hoffding says : 
 
 "I agree with Dr. Cams that "this world of ours is not a 
 world suited to the taste of a pleasure-seeker, " if we understand 
 by pleasure passive sensual enjoyment, an enjoyment which is not 
 united with the rest and nourishment with which not only an im- 
 mediate pleasurable feeling is connected, but whereby power is 
 also gathered for continued endeavor." 
 
 When I say that this world of ours is not a world 
 suited to the taste of the pleasure-seeker, I do not re- 
 strict the meaning of pleasure to "passive sensual en- 
 joyment," but to all kinds of pleasure. There are also 
 intellectual and artistic voluptuaries who sacrifice any- 
 thing, even the performance of duty, to their pleasure, 
 which I grant is far superior to any kind of passive sen- 
 sual enjoyment. The pursuit of pleasure is not wrong 
 in itself ; but it is not ethical either. Ethics in my 
 opinion has nothing to do either with my own pleas- 
 ures or with the pleasures of anybody else. The ob- 
 ject of ethics is the performance of duty ; and the 
 main duty of man is the performance of that which 
 he needs must do according to the laws of nature, to 
 let his soul grow and expand, and to develop to ever 
 higher and nobler aims. 
 
 • See the chapter " Pleasure and Pain " in The Soul »f Man, p, 338.
 
 250 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 VI. PLEASURABLE FEELINGS AS AN ETHICAL 
 CRITERION. 
 
 I know of a French teacher who has an excellent 
 French pronunciation and speaks with perfect accu- 
 racy, but whenever he is asked to give a rule which 
 may serve as a guide and a help to correct grammar 
 and elocution, he says : " The chief rule in French is 
 euphony." — "Exactly ! But the same rule holds good 
 in a certain sense for all languages." — "O no," he 
 says, "the German is harsh and the English is tongue- 
 breaking ; only in French is the supreme law eu- 
 phon}'." — "Now for instance," we venture to object, 
 "you say la harpe and not V arpe ; you pronounce the 
 ai different in different words you ss^y J' ai, but you say 
 il fait and you have again a different pronunciation of 
 the ai in nous faisons." He replies, "To pronounce 
 fai, or as the Germans say chai would be barbarous. 
 To say Pa7'pe, instead of la harpe is simply ridicu- 
 lous." — "The question is," we continued in our at- 
 tempts to understand him, "what is euphonious to the 
 ear of an educated Frenchman?" — ""VVell," he says, 
 "the ear will tell you. That which jars on the ear is 
 wrong. To say quaf instead of quaire, or vof instead 
 of voire, is wrong, it is vulgar. Why ? it jars on the 
 ear." 
 
 This method of teaching French appears to me a 
 good illustration of our objection to the happiness 
 principle of ethics. It is perfectly true that instances 
 of immorality jar on the feelings of ethically trained 
 minds. Why? They have become accustomed to them 
 and look upon them as barbarous. Ungrammatical 
 expressions and such pronunciations as do not agree 
 with the spirit^of a language are suppressed by those
 
 rilE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 251 
 
 who recognise them as incongruous elements. Mis- 
 takes jar on their ears because they are incorrect, but 
 they are not incorrect because they jar. 
 
 Oatmeal is a favorite dish among the Scotch. If 
 you ask tlicm v/hy they eat it, they will most likely tell 
 you, because it has an agreeable taste. But why do 
 they like it? Because they have through generations 
 grown accustomed to a dish which is conducive to 
 health. Most of the dishes that are wholesome have 
 an agreeable taste to a non-corrupted tongue. But 
 agreeable taste for that reason cannot be considered 
 as the supreme rule in selecting our menu. Agreeable 
 taste is in cases of sickness a verj' unreliable guide and 
 it is no criterion for a wholesome dinner. Surely the 
 ethics of eating could not be based on agreeable taste. 
 
 The pleasurable feeling that is perceived in the sat- 
 isfaction of hunger through appropriate food or in the 
 satisfaction of any want, is not the bedrock of fact to 
 which we can dig down ; it is in itself a product of cus- 
 tom, of inherited habits, and other circumstances ; and 
 it can the less be used as a criterion because it varies 
 greatly with the slightest change of its conditions. 
 
 Liberty is generally and rightly considered as a 
 good, even though the slave may have and very often 
 actually has enjoyed more happiness than the freed 
 man. Stupidit}'^ is considered as an evil, although it 
 inflicts no direct pains and may be the source of in- 
 numerable pleasures insipid in the view of others, but 
 delightful to the jolly fool. Professor Hoffding quotes 
 from Waitz that the Indian does not progress because 
 he '* lives a happy life." Uuhappiness is the cause of 
 progress. We look down upon the Fuegians and upon 
 the indolent South American tribe described by Hum- 
 boldt. But have thc}'^ not reached the aim of ethics.
 
 252 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 if happiness be that aim? Professor Hoffding says in 
 explanation of their condition : 
 
 ' ' That which would make such a Hfe unendurable for us, the 
 strong desire for activity, development, and progress, this desire does 
 not exist at such stages." 
 
 If that is so, our strong desire for activity should 
 be denounced as the source of evil. It would be ethical 
 in that case, as some labor unions and trusts actually 
 propose, to stop, or at least, to impede further pro- 
 gress. The attempt of the Jesuits in Paraguay, which 
 to some extent was an unequivocal success, to rule the 
 people through a spiritual dependence satisfying all 
 their wants and keeping them in perfect contentment, 
 cannot be condemned from that principle of welfare 
 which defines welfare as a continuous state of pleas- 
 urable feelings. 
 
 I can see how a man can be induced to submit to 
 a moment of pain in order to escape more pain in the 
 future, but I cannot see on what ground one man can 
 be requested to sacrifice himself to suffer pain or to 
 forego his pleasures in order that a dozen or a hun- 
 dred men may have a jolly time. It appears to me 
 that a greater error has never been pronounced than 
 that of making ''the greatest happiness of the greatest 
 number" the maxim of ethics. 
 
 For the same reason that prevents us from regard- 
 ing the principle of happiness as the aim of ethics or 
 as its test and criterion, we cannot consider self-hu- 
 miliation, contrition, misery, and the abandonment of 
 gayety and merriness as moral or meritorious. Joy and 
 grief are in themselves as little wrong as they are vir- 
 tuous. Any ethics the end of which is a morose aus- 
 terity, simply because it makes life dreary, is at least 
 as much mistaken as a philosophy which finds the pur-
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 253 
 
 pose of life in mere pleasure, be it ever so vain, simply 
 because it is pleasure. To pursue happiness or re- 
 nounce it, either may sometimes be moral and some- 
 times immoral. Again, to undergo pain and to inflict 
 pain on others, or to avoid pain, either may also be 
 moral or immoral. The criterion of ethics will not be 
 found in the sphere of feelings. Morality cannot be 
 measured by and it cannot be expressed in pleasures 
 and pains. 
 
 VII. THE SUPERINDIVIDUAL AND SOCIETY. 
 
 Professor Hoffding criticises my view of "that su- 
 perindividual soul-life which we call society," as based 
 upon a mystical personification of society. 
 
 The superindividual motives of the human soul as 
 I use the term, are actual realities, they are no less 
 actual and concrete than are the image and the concept 
 of a tree in my brain. I have sufficiently explained 
 their origin and natural growth ("Ethical Problem," 
 pp. 34-44), and feel that Professor Hoffding's charge 
 rests upon a misunderstanding. It appears to me that 
 his term "sympathy," which he regards as the main 
 element of ethical feelings leading to the adoption of 
 the principle of general welfare, is much more liable 
 to be interpreted in a mystical way. At least Schopen- 
 hauer's idea of sympathy (which he calls Mitieid) is 
 undoubtedly a very mysterious thing, and its existence 
 is supposed to be a direct manifestation of the met- 
 aphysical. I do not say that Professor Hoffding uses 
 the word sympathy in the sense of Schopenhauer's idea 
 of Miileid, but I am sure that if he attempts to ex- 
 plain its natural origin, he will (in order to remain 
 positive and scientific) have to go over the same
 
 254 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 ground and arrive at the same conclusion as I did, al- 
 though he may express himself in different words. 
 
 The truth is that man's ideas consist in representa- 
 tions of things and of relations without him, and these 
 ideas are not the product of his individual exertions 
 alone, the}' are the product of social work and of the 
 common activity and intercourse of human society. 
 This-is true of language as a whole and of every single 
 word which we use. This is true of all conceptual 
 thought and most so of all ethical impulses. In spite 
 of all individualism and in spite of the truth that 
 lies in certain claims of individualism as to personal 
 liberty and freedom of self-determination, I maintain 
 that there is no individual in the sense of a separate 
 ego-existence. That which makes of us human beings 
 is the product of social life. I call the ideas and the im- 
 pulses naturally developing in this way, superindivid- 
 ual, and if we could take them out of the soul of a 
 man, he would cease to be a man. What is man but 
 an incarnation of mankind ! Social intercourse and 
 common work produce the superindividual ideas and 
 impulses in man, and these superindividual ideas and 
 impulses in their action constitute the life of society. 
 
 This view is not ''a mystical personification of so- 
 ciety" under the simile of an organism, but it is a de- 
 scription of certain facts in the development of the hu- 
 man soul. 
 
 Society is not an aggregation of individuals, it is 
 constituted by the superindividual element in the souls 
 of individual men. The number of people in a so- 
 ciety is for ethical purposes unessential. Professor 
 Hoffding accordingly makes an unimportant feature 
 prominent, when he says : 
 
 "The idea of society, if it is to be scientifically employed,
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS, 255 
 
 must always be so applied that at every point the definite group of 
 individuals which it represents may be established." 
 
 If the greatest happiness of the greatest number 
 among a definite group of individuals constitutes the 
 morality of an act, would not the man who falls among 
 thieves be under the moral obligation to renounce his 
 property because the robbers constitute the majority? 
 
 If we leave the superindividual element out of sight, 
 we shall naturally fall into the error of counting the in- 
 dividuals and deciding right and wrong by majority 
 votes. The pleasure of a majority however does not 
 constitute justice, and the greatest happiness of the 
 greatest number is no criterion of that which is to be 
 considered as morally good. 
 
 Society in the sense of a mere number of individuals 
 will by and by create but does not constitute morality; 
 nor can the majority of a societ)' propose a criterion. 
 The nature of moral goodness is not a matter of num- 
 ber nor of size nor of quantity. It must be sought in 
 the quality of our ideas and motives. Moral are those 
 ideas which tend to build up the life-totality of our souls 
 so as to engender more and more of mankind in man, 
 or still broader expressed, so as to keep man in har- 
 mony with the whole cosmos — with God. 
 
 VIII. THE POLICY OF THE ETHICAL SOCIETIES. 
 
 Professor Hoffding considers it perfectly justified 
 that the leaders of the ethical societies "keep these in- 
 stitutions as independent as possible not only of all 
 dogmatic tendency of thought but also of all unneces- 
 sary philosophical hypotheses and speculations." So 
 do we, for we object to dogmas, to hypotheses, and 
 mere speculations. We consider the era of dogmatic 
 religion as past, and trust in the rise of a religion based
 
 256 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 on truth, i. e. a natural and cosmical religion which 
 stands on facts verifiable by science. Every religion, 
 be it ever so adulterated by superstitions which as a 
 rule, the less tenable they appear, are the more tena- 
 ciously defended as infallible dogmas— contains in its 
 world-conception at least the germ of becoming a cos- 
 mical religion. The development of all religions aims 
 at one and the same goal, namely the recognition of 
 the truth and the aspiration to live accordingly. Those 
 religions which remain faithful to this spirit of the re- 
 ligious sentiment will survive ; they will drop the errors 
 of dogmatic belief, they will free themselves of the 
 narrowness of sectarianism and develop the cosmic 
 religion of truth— of that one and sole truth which need 
 not shun the light of criticism and which is at one with 
 science. 
 
 We do not object to the ethical societies that they 
 have no dogmas and that they do not identify them- 
 selves with a special philosophy ; we object solely to 
 their proposition to preach ethics without having a re- 
 ligion, or without basing ethics upon a conception of 
 the world. And why do we object? Simply because it 
 is impossible to preach ethics without basing it upon a 
 definite view of the world, for ethics is nothing more 
 or less than the endeavor to act according to a certain 
 conception, to realise it in deeds. Can you realise in 
 deeds a conception without having any? Can 5^ou live 
 the truth without knowing the truth? You must at 
 least have an instinctive inkling of what the truth is. 
 Mr. Salter separates the domains of ethics and 
 science. He does not believe that ethics can be es- 
 tablished on science, for he declares that science deals 
 with facts, i. e. that Vvhich is, while ethics deals with 
 ideals, i. e. that which ought to be. "We have to be-
 
 rilE CRITERIO^f OF ETHICS. 257 
 
 lievc in ethics if we believe in them at all," Mr. Salter 
 says, "not because they have the facts on their side 
 but because of their own intrinsic attractiveness and 
 authority."* This reminds me of one of Goethe and 
 Schiller's Xcnions in which the German poets criticise 
 the one-sided positions of enthusiasts {Schwdrmer) and 
 philistines : 
 
 Had you the power, enthusiasts, to grasp your ideals completely, 
 Certainly you would revere Nature. For that is her due. 
 
 Had you the power philistines, to grasp the total of Nature, 
 Surely your path would lead up to th' idea's domain. 
 
 Ideals have no value unless they agree with the ob- 
 jective world-order which is ascertained through in- 
 quiry into the facts of nature. Ideals whose ultimate 
 justification is intrinsic attractiveness and whose au- 
 thority is professedly not founded on reality but on 
 rapt visions of transcendental beauty, must be charac- 
 terised as pure subjectivism. They are not ideals but 
 dreams. 
 
 The ethical societies have as yet — so far as I am 
 aware of — not given a clear and definite definition of 
 good. Professor Adler treats this question with a cer- 
 tain slight. Concerning the facts of moral obligation he 
 believes in "a general agreement among good men and 
 women everywhere." (The italics are ours.) 77^1? Open 
 Court (in No. 140) has challenged the Ethical Societies, 
 saying that "we should be very much obliged to the 
 Ethical Record, if it would give us a simple, plain, and 
 unmistakable definition of what the leaders of the 
 ethical movement understand by good, i. e. morally 
 good." But this challenge remained unanswered. 
 
 It will appear that as soon as good is defined not in 
 
 * What Can Ethics Do For Us, p. 5. By W. M. Salter. C. H. Kerr, Chi- 
 cago, 1891.
 
 258 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 tautologies,* but in definite and unmistakable terms, 
 the conception of good will be the expression of a 
 world-conception. Is it possible to do an act which is 
 not expressive of an opinion ? And if an act is not ex- 
 pressive of a clear opinion, it is based upon an in- 
 stinctive, an unclear, and undefined opinion. When 
 the ethical societies declare that they do not intend to 
 com.mit themselves to religious or philosophical views, 
 they establish an anarchy of ethical conviction. Re- 
 ligion, as we have defined it, is man's inmost and ho- 
 liest conviction, in accord v/ith which he regulates his 
 conduct. The ethical societies implicit^ declare that Vv'e 
 can regulate our conduct without having any conviction. 
 
 Is not an ethical society without any definite con- 
 victions upon which to base its ethics like a ship 
 without a compass in foggy weather? 
 
 The attitude of the ethical societies in not com- 
 mitting themselves to any religious or philosophical 
 view is after all — and how can it be otherwise? — a pal- 
 pable self-delusion, for their whole policy bears unmis- 
 takably a definite and characteristic stamp. The lead- 
 ers of the ethical societies will most likely repudiate my 
 interpretation of their position, because it appears to 
 me that they are not clear themselves concerning the 
 philosophical basis upon which they stand and thus (as 
 I am fully aware) many contradictory features appear 
 by the side of those which I should consider as most 
 significant. 
 
 IX. PROFESSOR ADLER'S POSITION. 
 
 Professor Adler is the founder of the Ethical So- 
 cieties, he is their leader, and however much Mr. Sal- 
 
 *It is obvious that such definitions as " good is that which produces wel- 
 fare " are meaningless, so long as we are not told what it is that makes a cer- 
 tain state luell faring or well being.
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 259 
 
 tor, Dr. Coit, Mr. Sheldon, and Mr. Weston may dis- 
 agree from him in minor matters, his views are decis- 
 ive in the management, and the poHcy of the whole 
 movement depends on him. Through his indefatig- 
 able zeal in the holy cause of ethics, his unflinching 
 courage in the defense of what he regards as right, his 
 energetic devotion to his ideals, and through the influ- 
 ence of his powerful oratory he has made the ethical 
 societies what they now are. He determines their 
 character and he is the soul of the whole movement. 
 Now it is true that Professor Adler has never pre- 
 sented us with a systematic philosophy, but all his ac- 
 tivity, his speeches, his poems, and the plans of his 
 enterprises represent a very definite philosophical con- 
 ception, which, to give it a name, may briefly be called 
 Kantian Agnosticism. 
 
 Professor Adler is an agnostic, although not after 
 the pattern of Spencer or Huxley. His agnosticism 
 has been impressed upon his mind by Kant. 
 
 I expect that Mr. Adler will repudiate the name 
 of agnostic, and it is quite indifferent with what name 
 he may characterise his views. His position remains 
 the same, whatever name he may choose to call it, if he 
 chooses any ; and he will choose none for he is too 
 consistent an agnostic to define his position by a name. 
 
 It devolves upon me to prove my assertion and I 
 hope to be able to do so. 
 
 Professor Adler looks upon ethics as something 
 which lies outside the pale of human knowledge. He 
 says in one of his lectures : 
 
 "And now one point more of utmost importance. If there 
 be an existence corresponding to our highest idea, as we have said 
 there is, yet we know not what kind of existence that may be. 
 .... why then should we speak of it at ail, why should we try to
 
 26o THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 mention in words an existence which we cannot know ? I will an- 
 swer why. Because it is necessary to remind mankind constantly 
 
 that thei'e is an existence which they do not know Because 
 
 otherwise the sense of mystery will fade out of human lives " 
 
 Is "the sense of mystery" really a necessary ele- 
 ment in human lives to make men aware of the grand- 
 eur of the universe. Is there no holiness in clearness 
 of thought, and is ethics only sacred if it is surrounded 
 with the hazy halo of an unknowable transcenden- 
 talism? 
 
 If our moral ideal does not come by the special 
 
 revelation of God, as the dogmatic religions maintain, 
 
 and if we cannot find it in nature, if it is beyond the 
 
 ken of human cognition, if it is unascertainable by 
 
 science, whence does it come? Professor Adler says: 
 
 ' ' We must, indeed, be always on our guard, lest we confuse 
 the idea of the Perfect with notions of the good derived from hu- 
 man experience. This has been the mistake of theology in the past, 
 the point wherein every theodicy has invariably broken down. 
 When we think of the Perfect we think of a transcendental state of 
 existence, when we think of the moral lav/ in its completeness we 
 think of a transcendental law, a law which can only be wholly 
 fulfilled in the regions of the Infinite, but which can never be fully 
 realised vv^ithin the conditions of space and time. The formula of 
 that law when applied to human relations, yields the specific moral 
 commandments, but these commandments can never express the 
 full content, can never convey the far off spiritual meanings of the 
 supreme law itself. The specific commandments do, indeed, par- 
 take of the nature of the transcendental law, they are its effects. 
 The light that shines through them comes from beyond, but its 
 beams are broken as they pass our terrestrial medium, and the full 
 light in all its glory we can never see." 
 
 In this passage I believe to recognise the influence 
 of Kant's transcendentalism. I differ from Professor 
 Adler's conception of Kantian transcendentalism, but 
 that is of no account here. One point only is of con- 
 sequence. Professor Adler uses the word transcen-
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 261 
 
 dental in the sense of transcendent and thus he changes 
 
 the ethics of pure reason into mysticism. Professor 
 
 Adler says : 
 
 " Though I can never be scientifically certain, I can be morally 
 sure that the mystery of the universe is to be read in terms of moral 
 perfection," 
 
 I do not deny that moral instinct ripens quicker 
 than scientific comprehension. Why ? Because in a 
 time when science is not as yet so far advanced as to 
 understand the operations of the moral law, those 
 people who instinctively obey the rules that can be 
 derived from the moral law, will survive and all the 
 rest will go to the wall. But the fact that we can have 
 a reliable moral guide in an instinctive certainty which 
 is generally called conscience, even before we attain to 
 scientific clearness, does not prove that science will be 
 forever excluded from the world of moral ideals. 
 
 Professor Adler's agnosticism found a very strong 
 expression in a poem which resembles in its tone and 
 ideas the church hymns of the New Jerusalem. The 
 poem is very unequivocal on the point that moral ac- 
 tion is comparable to building an ideal ciiy, the plan 
 of which is unknown to the builders. Professor Adler 
 
 says : 
 
 " Have you heard the Golden City 
 
 Mentioned in the legends old ? 
 Everlasting light shines o'er it, 
 
 Wondrous tales of it are told. 
 Only righteous men and women 
 
 Dwell within its gleaming wall ; 
 Wrong is banished from its borders, 
 
 Justice reigns supreme o'er all. 
 Do you ask, Where is that City, 
 
 Where the perfect Right doth reign ? 
 I must answer, I must tell you, 
 
 That you seek its site in vain.
 
 262 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 You may roam o'er hill and valley, 
 
 You may pass o'er land and sea, 
 You may search the wide earth over, — 
 
 'T is a City yet to be! 
 
 We are builders of that City, — 
 
 All our joys and all our groans 
 Help to rear its shining ramparts ; 
 
 All our lives are building-stones. 
 
 What that plan may be toe knoiu not.* 
 
 How the seat of Justice high. 
 How the City of our vision 
 
 Will appear to mortal eye, — 
 
 That no mortal eye can picture. 
 
 That no mortal tongue can tell. 
 We can barely dream the glories 
 
 Of the Future's citadel." 
 
 How great an importance is attributed to this song 
 by the leaders of the ethical movement may be learned 
 from Mr. Salter's opinion of it. Mr. Salter says in 
 criticising Unitarianism : 
 
 "Not from Unitarianism, not from Christianity, has come the 
 song that best utters and almost chants this thought [of an ideal 
 fellowship]. It is from Felix Adler, upon whom, I sometimes 
 think, more than upon any other man of our day, the mantle and 
 prophetic spirit of Channing have fallen, and whose words, I al- 
 most believe, are those which Jesus himself would utter, should 
 he come and put his solemn thought and passion into the language 
 of to-day." 
 
 Agnosticism is in our opinion no sound basis upon 
 which to erect ethics. The unknowable is like quick- 
 sand, it gives way under our feet. The ethics of agnos- 
 ticism must necessarily become m3'sticism. The ethe- 
 real dreams of mysticists need no solid basis, they 
 hover in the air. Mr. Spencer who for some reason or 
 other tried to escape the consequences of his agnosti- 
 
 *The italics are ours.
 
 THE CRITERION OF ETHICS. 263 
 
 cism in the ethical field, adopted Utilitarianism, bas- 
 ing his moral maxims not upon the unknowable, as 
 consistency would require, but upon the principle of 
 the greatest happiness for the greatest number. 
 
 Professor Adler is not a Spencerian agnostic and 
 here lies the strength of his ethics. Although he does 
 not attain to a clear and scientific conception of the 
 origin and natural growth of morality, he sounds no 
 uncertain voice with regard to the Happiness Principle. 
 He has on several occasions, like his great master 
 Kant, uncompromisingly rejected any Hedonism or 
 Eudsemonism. Among all societies aspiring to foster 
 moral ideals, the societies for ethical culture are dis- 
 tinguished for their seriousness and ardor ; and there 
 can be no doubt about the cause : it is the spirit of Pro- 
 fessor Adier's zeal not to give way to a hedonistic con- 
 ception of ethics. 
 
 X. THE UNITY OF THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 We conclude. Although the ethical problem can 
 and must be split up in innumerable different prob- 
 lems, we should never lose sight of its unity. 
 
 Our age is a period of specialisation, of a division 
 of labor and of detail work. This is true. But the 
 more will it be necessary to survey the whole field and 
 keep in mind the unity of which all piecemeal efforts 
 are but parts. As soon as we lose sight of the unity in 
 a certain system of problems, we are most liable to drop 
 into inconsistencies. This is true of all things, of every 
 science in particular, and of philosophy, the science of 
 the sciences, also. It is no less true of ethics. We can- 
 not engage, with any hope of success, in any of the di- 
 verse ethical questions unless we have first solved the 
 ethical problem.
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS. 
 
 EY WILLIAM M. SALTER. 
 
 It is the prerogative of man to ask for reasons for 
 what he is enjoined to do or believe. An animal does 
 not ask a reason why ; a child may not — but a devel- 
 oped human being has a dignity with which mere Wind 
 obedience and unreasoning assent are felt to be in- 
 compatible. 
 
 It is as legitimate to question and inquire in the 
 ethical field as in any other. There is nothing sacred 
 about duty, right, good — in the sense of their making 
 a region which we should not explore, or look upon 
 with critical eyes. If we are told we ought to do any 
 special thing, we have a right to ask, why? — just as 
 we have a right to ask for the evidence of any theo- 
 logical creed or any scientific or philosophical proposi- 
 tion. Yes, more than "having a right," I may say 
 that we should ask for reasons in the realm of morals : 
 For, in the first place, some things which we may be 
 told to do may be questionable and we should not wish 
 to be imposed upon ; in the second place, there are 
 different notions of right and wrong abroad in the 
 world, conflicting notions, and we are obliged to have 
 some standard by which to judge between them ; 
 thirdly, the very sacredness of what is really right
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS, 265 
 
 should make us jealous of anything that falsely goes 
 by that name ; and fourthly, even what is absolutely 
 right should not be accepted as such by a rational 
 being on authority, because this or that person says 
 so, or this or that book so teaches — but only because 
 he sees it to be so with his own eyes, because it is 
 the deliverance, the discovery of his own reason. It 
 may not be possible for every one to be rationalised 
 at once ; and in the meantime those for whom suffice 
 the poets ' ' few strong instincts " and ' ' few are fortun- 
 ate \ none the less is it the ideal for every one who 
 has the capacities of reason in him to develop those 
 capacities, to "look before and after" and know the 
 why and wherefore of everything he does, to bring his 
 whole Hfe, moral and intellectual, out into the light. 
 
 And now perhaps the first thing we need to do is 
 to get a clear idea of what the ethical field is, which 
 we are to explore. It is, firstly, the field of human 
 action — and not only of actions in the outward sense, 
 but of all that we do, whether by body or mind, so we 
 do it voluntarily. Whatever happens in us apart from 
 our will is outside the realm we are considering, just 
 as much as what happens without us : the digestion 
 of our food, for example, the circulation of the blood 
 — though to the extent that we can affect these by our 
 will they may come inside ; if, for instance, they are 
 feeble and imperfect and by anything we can do we 
 can make them stronger, healthier, it may be our duty 
 to do so. It is our life so far as it is regulated by our 
 thought that we have to do with as ethical inquirers ; 
 so far as it goes on of itself and is ruled by laws which 
 we are powerless to affect, it is beyond the province 
 of ethics. Yet, more particularly, all voluntary actions 
 may be of one sort or another, according as our thought
 
 265 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 determines. We may, for example, in taking a walk, 
 go along this street or that as we choose. In talking 
 with a friend, we may give or we may withhold certain 
 information in our possession. In recollecting a prom- 
 ise or a vow, we may keep it or break it as one or the 
 other thought is predominant in us at the time. Now 
 wherever there are two possible thoughts and it occurs 
 to us to say that one is better than the other, that one 
 should be followed rather than the other, we enter the 
 field of ethics proper. This by no means always hap- 
 pens in the case of voluntary actions ; when we are 
 off for a holiday it may not matter, within limits, what 
 we do — whether we ride or walk or row or "lie in the 
 sun " and do nothing; the only duty in the matter, may 
 be, may be to do as we please. But sometimes we say, 
 This is good and that is bad ; this deserves to be done 
 and that ought not to be done. Such judgments are 
 ethical judgments ; they are not of course descriptive 
 of the actions, but of what the actions should be ; in 
 other words, they assert an ideal, and when they are 
 repeated and generalised, they become formulations 
 of a rule. Ethics is really a study of the rules of hu- 
 man action ; if we call it a science, it is an ideal science 
 — for it is not a study of the actual conduct of men 
 (and so differs entirely from sociology or history), but 
 of what that conduct would be if it conformed to cer- 
 tain rules ; and these rules themselves are not simply 
 the matter-of-fact rules which an individual or a peo- 
 ple reverences, but the true rules, the rules which are 
 intrinsically worthy of reverence. 
 
 Here then is the field for our inquiry — not nature, 
 not man in general, not his actions, but the rules ac- 
 cording to which he conceives he should act ; and our 
 inquiry now is not so much, what these rules are in
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IX ETHICS. 267 
 
 detail but what is their reason for being, not so much 
 how and when they arose and wliat is their history, but 
 what is their justification and vaHdity. To trace the 
 rule, " Thou shalt not steal," for example, back to the 
 one who first conceived it, to fix its authorship and 
 date in the dim distant past, and follow its history since, 
 is not the same as justifying it ; customs and rules 
 may have existed for ages and yet be without a rational 
 basis. Ethics proper, on its intellectual side, is a rea- 
 soning about rules of conduct, it is a testing, criticising, 
 accepting or rejecting the rules commonly proposed ; 
 and in searching for first principles in ethics, we are 
 really asking for the ultimate reasons why we should 
 follow (or refuse to follow) this, that or the other spe- 
 cial injunction, for the final justification of whatever 
 we call right. 
 
 Where shall we turn for light as to this problem ? 
 There seem to be those who think that science can 
 settle it for us ; they say that the basis of ethics is to 
 be found in a clear knowledge of the world in which 
 we live. And there is a measure of truth in this. If 
 we do not understand our own being and natural laws 
 about us we are to this extent in the dark, in our ac- 
 tions. Ignorance of the teachings of physiology and 
 hygiene may cause us aches and pains that knowledge 
 might have prevented. Ignorance of sanitary science 
 is doubtless responsible in part for the large mortality 
 of great cities. It is only by a knowledge of nature's 
 forces — gravity, heat, steam, electricity, — that we can 
 turn them to account and make them serve and benefit 
 man. If we study the facts of sociology and history, 
 we learn what conditions are favorable and what un- 
 favorable to the growth and prosperity of communities. 
 Such knowledge is of incalculable value ; it is a help
 
 268 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 and guide to action — and yet there is some confusion 
 in regarding it as the basis of ethics or as giving us an 
 ultimate standard of right action. For who does not 
 see that everything depends upon the use to which we 
 mean to put our knowledge ? It seems to be taken 
 for granted that everybody desires happiness or long 
 life for himself and for others ; that the only wish of a 
 person can be to use nature's forces for the general, 
 benefit ; that all we care for is to make communities 
 grow and prosper — in which case it would of course 
 only be necessary to learn how these ends can be at- 
 tained. But the fact is that we may desire other 
 things ; we may wish to know how to cut short our 
 lives and how to end the lives of our people — time and 
 again this has happened and is happening to-day, a 
 great part of the activity of men consisting in killing 
 one another or making preparations to ; we may use 
 nature's forces to injure as well as to benefit — a man 
 of violence has the same motive for getting a complete 
 scientific understanding of dynamite that any other 
 sort of man would have ; we may desire to degrade 
 and humiliate a people as well as uplift it and make it 
 prosperous — as England seems to have acted toward 
 Ireland. Such scientific knowledge as I have referred 
 to cannot be the basis or ultimate standard of ethics 
 (however useful and necessary it may be in a subsid- 
 iary way), for one may act in complete accordance 
 with it and yet aim at opposite things ; one may have 
 the clearest view of the world in which we live and yet 
 play either (what we are accustomed to call) a good 
 part or a bad part in it. The real question of ethics 
 is, what are the true things to aim at, what is the 
 meaning of playing a good or a bad part in the world 
 — and, so far as scientific knowledge is concerned, for
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS. iC,r^ 
 
 what ends shall we use that knowledge ? Our very in- 
 tentncss on those ends (when we have discovered them ) 
 must make us resolute on finding out every possible 
 means and observing every condition necessary for 
 attaining them. 
 
 But if science fails us at the critical point (a cer- 
 tain mental confusion being involved in the very no- 
 tion of its being more than a subsidiary guide for us), 
 what else have we to do than to face the problem with 
 our own discursive minds and by thinking of this end 
 of our action and that, by weighing and balancing be- 
 tween them, try to find out that which seems worth- 
 iest, completest, most final and self-sufficient? For 
 this, let it now be distinctly said, is what we are in 
 search of — something, some state or condition which 
 seems good in itself, which does not need to be re- 
 garded as a means to another end but which of itself 
 satisfies the mind. If we ask for a reason for any ac- 
 tion or rule, it must be because the action or rule re- 
 quires a reason, being incomplete, objectless, irrational 
 without it — as when a person going down town is asked 
 Why? by a friend and in replying he tells his errand, 
 while if he should say, For nothing, the friend would 
 not know what to make of him. There are plenty of 
 human actions, and sustained courses of conduct that 
 have no meaning save in relation to some purpose be- 
 yond themselves. Yet on the other hand there may 
 be things that seem so good that we do not look be- 
 yond them, things that it is superfluous to ask a reason 
 for; they are complete in themselves and do not re- 
 quire any justification. It is such things that we have 
 no reason of, things in virtue of which, or by their re- 
 lation to which, all other things are good, things that 
 it would be as absurd to ask for a reason for aiming
 
 270 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 at, as for conceding the truth of any self-luminous fact 
 of nature. If such things can be found, if a supreme 
 rule (or rules) can thus be formulated and if, on the 
 other hand, all minor, special rules can be traced back 
 to the supreme one and an explanation and justifica- 
 tion thus be furnished for each single duty, then our 
 problem would be virtually solved. To give a reason 
 for everything that requires a reason, and to find those 
 things for which no reason can be given only because 
 they are self-evident— is all that the ethical student 
 can ask. It is as when (to take a minor and imperfect 
 illustration) having been in distant parts, we begin to 
 travel homewards ; at every step of the journey, at 
 every change from sea to land, or from train to train, 
 there is a reason for the action beyond itself ; but when 
 at last we reach the loved spot, and are safe within 
 the dear old walls with father and mother or with wife 
 and child, we do not ask a reason for being there — it 
 is where we belong. 
 
 Let us, then, without attempting systematic com- 
 pleteness, take up a few of the duties and see if good 
 reasons can be given for them and gradually work our 
 way, if it is possible, toward the discovery of ends 
 that are good in themselves. Temperance is one of 
 man's duties ; it is almost universally admitted. Yet 
 I think it is legitimate to ask, why we should be tem- 
 perate — for though familiarity with the idea may make 
 it appear almost self-evident, it is not from the stand- 
 point of reason really so. We take in as much air as 
 we can with our lungs, we can hardly have too much 
 light and sunshine — why may we not drink as much 
 water or wine as we can and eat as much food ? The 
 answer obviously is that eating or drinking beyond a 
 certain amount or measure is injurious to our health \
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS. 271 
 
 if we have gone beyond certain limits, we strain our 
 bodily organism and weaken it. Hence, to the end of 
 health, we must be temperate ; but for this, temper- 
 ance would be no virtue and intemperance no vice. 
 Or consider the virtues of chastity and modesty ; re- 
 spect for them is almost instinctive in men and women 
 who have been normally born and educated — and yet 
 we may ask why these should be virtues and may 
 come to see that if the race were not perpetuated as 
 it is, if certain peculiar consequences did not flow 
 from certain acts, if the institution of the family 
 were not such an all-important factor in the evolu- 
 tion of man, there would be no more occasion for chas- 
 tity and modesty than there is for refusing to shake 
 hands with more than one person or for covering 
 one's face so it shall not be seen. A duty is no less 
 binding because we see the reason for it ; rather it is 
 only he who does see the reason who feels the full ex- 
 tent of the obligation, as knowing all the duty rests 
 upon. This, it appears to me, equally applies to truth 
 and falsehood. We should tell the truth to others be- 
 cause they need it, because without knowledge every 
 one is more or less in darkness; and if there are ever 
 times when we should withhold the truth it is in those 
 rare circumstances when it may injure rather than 
 help. Falsehood is base because it is a sort of treach- 
 ery — a disowning of the bond by which we are united 
 to our fellow men. For the same reason we have a 
 right to the truth from others ; and, moreover, we 
 ought to give it to ourselves, or search for it, if it is 
 not at hand ; we can only grow, we can only step sure- 
 footedly in life, as we know. In brief, truth is obli- 
 gatory, because it is a means of benefit ; if it were in 
 and of itself a virtue, irrespective of the needs or cir-
 
 272 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 cumstances of those to whom the knowledge is im- 
 planted, then we should have to speak the truth though 
 it killed people and should have to refuse to deceive 
 a raging animal though at the risk of being killed our- 
 selves. 
 
 But now let us take a step further. We have 
 found that there is a reason for some of the commonly- 
 recognised duties of life, that they are duties, because 
 in doing them we contribute to certain desirable ends. 
 In the one case, it is health ; in another, the perpetua- 
 tion of the race ; in another, the benefit or welfare of 
 men. The question then forces itself upon us, are 
 these ends desirable for themselves alone, or have in 
 turn we to give a reason for choosing them, just as we 
 had to for temperance, purity and speaking the truth ? 
 Have we at this stage arrived where we can rest, have 
 we the ultimate ends, the final goods, the first prin- 
 ciples of which we are in search ? It does not alto- 
 gether seem so. What is for the good of our health 
 should indeed at once have respect from us ; and yet 
 I think it is tolerably evident on a little reflection that 
 health is desirable, because with it we can best do our 
 work in life, because with it we are put in possession 
 of all our faculties — and without it we are in a measure 
 useless, a burden to others and a burden to ourselves. 
 If we could do our work as well, if we could be as 
 cheerful, if we could think and attain all our higher 
 spiritual development as well without health as with 
 it, health would be a matter of indifference. And if 
 we ever allow an injury to our health, if we ever take 
 risks with it (with the sanction of conscience, I mean), 
 it is in aiming at some good beyond it — as mothers 
 may in child-bearing, as explorers and pioneers may 
 in opening up new countries to the world, as students
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IX ETHICS. 273 
 
 and philosophic thinkers may in endeavoring to un- 
 ravel the mysteries of existence, as reformers may in 
 contending with old wrongs and abuses, as patriots 
 may who risk their very life in the defense of their 
 firesides and homes. We should keep our health for 
 a purpose ; it is not an end in itself. I am obliged to 
 think in the same way of the perpetuation of the race. 
 I think we may ask, why should we follow these deep- 
 seated instincts of our nature? Natural as it may be 
 to obey them, self-evident as it may seem to many 
 that there ought to be more and more people in the 
 world, I think that on sober reflection we are bound to 
 ask, why? My answer would be that whether more 
 people in the world are desirable depends upon what 
 sort of people they are to be, how circumstanced 
 (whether favorably or no to a really human develop- 
 ment) — for we can easily conceive of conditions (and 
 there are likely to be such in the later history of the 
 globe) in which life v/ould be a pitiful, useless strug- 
 gle ; and there may be inborn tendencies, physical and 
 mental, that may make it better for some men and 
 women not to have children now. The perpetuation 
 of the race is a good, so far as it means the possibil- 
 ity of the race rising ever to higher and higher levels, 
 so far as it means that there may be new human be- 
 ings who may do better than their fathers and moth- 
 ers did (or, at least as well), so far as it means the 
 continuity and perpetuation and advancement of that 
 spiritual something we call human civilisation and 
 culture. No, the family, is not an end ; it is a means 
 to an end — a necessary means, indeed, and thereby a 
 sacred institution, but still looking beyond itself; and 
 these fathers and mothers are truly hallowed in their 
 domestic lives who wish to bring up their children to
 
 274 Tlfl^ ETHICAL PRO/JLEAL 
 
 carry still further the conquests of light, of love, and 
 of justice in the world. 
 
 Yet when we think of the third end of which dis- 
 covery was made — namely, the benefit or welfare of 
 men, must we not say that this is a self-evident good, 
 that no reason outside it is required for seeking it, 
 since it appeals so immediately to us? In a sense it 
 must be admitted that this is so. The reasons that 
 have been given for the other ends, just discussed, 
 are more or less closely connected with this end. And 
 yet it is necessary that we have a clear idea of what 
 the benefit or welfare of men means. There may be 
 different standards by which to judge it, there maybe 
 limited notions of it; and we must not content our- 
 selves with a phrase or a vague idea. Some may un- 
 derstand by welfare simply being well-situated in life, 
 secure against enemies and accidents ; but such wel- 
 fare is as one-sided and incomplete a notion as health 
 — we may ask. Why should we be thus favorably situ- 
 ated ? what is the good of it, if we do not make more 
 of ourselves thereby? Others may understand by wel- 
 fare happiness ; and surely happiness has the marks 
 of being a good in itself. When we are happy, we 
 do not ask why, to what end are we happy? For all 
 labor, for all effort, for all self-denial there must be a 
 reason ; but there needs be no reason for happiness. 
 And yet happiness, while a good (in itself), is not nec- 
 essarily the good, the whole good ; and such is its sin- 
 gular nature that it may be connected with not only 
 what is otherwise good, but with what is unworthy 
 and bad. Are there not those who find happiness in 
 ruling other people and bringing them under their 
 thumb, are there not those who find happiness in liv- 
 ing in the eyes of the world and being continually no-
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IN ETHICS. 275 
 
 ticed and applauded, are there not those who find 
 happiness in giving themselves up to selfish pursuits 
 and are never so pleased as when they have driven a 
 successful bargain at somebody else's loss? Happi- 
 ness in and of itself is innocent and is one of the first 
 ends of our being, but when it is made into the only 
 end, when other goods are made secondary or ignored, 
 it may be the accompaniment of ignoble as well as no- 
 ble action; moreover, in the existing state of human 
 nature, happiness is so variable a quantity, that it can 
 scarcely be said to furnish a standard at all (even a 
 low or poor one), and so an ancient writer said well, 
 " Pleasure is the companion, not the guide of virtue." 
 We may live for happiness, if we only make it con- 
 sistent with other ends of our being ; we may work for 
 other's happiness, so it be a worthy happiness, a hap- 
 piness which is a harmonious part of a total good. 
 
 Physical security and comfort, happiness — these 
 are not enough as measures of man's welfare; the one 
 is too low, the other too variable. And how is it pos- 
 sible to judge of welfare save by saying that it must 
 take in the whole of man, not only the life of the body 
 or the satisfaction of existing desires, but the life of 
 the mind and spirit, the possibilities of willing and 
 achieving, the capacities of love — so that to work for 
 human welfare means to work for the cultivation, the 
 enrichment, the indefinite enlargement and expansion 
 of the entire life of men, physical and spiritual? If 
 we mean by human welfare, human perfection, if we 
 set before ourselves the ideal of a perfected humanity 
 — then we have an end in which we can rest, a goal 
 that has every appearance of being a final goal, be- 
 cause we can imagine nothing greater beyond it, be- 
 cause there is no outside purpose a perfected human-
 
 276 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 ity could serve which could be as great as itself. We 
 may not be able to say beforehand all that a perfected 
 humanity would attain, all it would be ; we may not 
 be able to present a definite picture of it — yet we know 
 the tendencies, the capacities that await a full and 
 complete development, we know the lines of advance 
 in the past, we see how they stretch out before us 
 now ; we know our direction, our bearing — and what 
 will be (or should be) in the future is only an exten- 
 sion, an unfolding, a blossoming and ripening of what 
 we have now. Humanity's powers, (all it has con- 
 sciously, all that may be revealed to it) passed into 
 realisation — the mind, the heart, the will of universal 
 man in full play and triumphant activity ; that is the 
 ideal that seems to sum up what is valid in all other 
 ideals, that is the good which serves to measure all 
 other goods ; everything is right which tends to its 
 accomplishment and everything is wrong which tends 
 to defeat it and make it impossible ; all our duties 
 (which are real duties) have their ultimate sanction 
 here — they are explained by, derived from the one su- 
 preme duty of laboring for such a consummation; 
 every valid rule of action is only an application of the 
 sovereign rule to work for the perfection of society, 
 for the total development of the capacities of man. 
 
 It is only another way of stating this to say that we 
 have now reached the point where we cease to ask for 
 reasons. It is as with any scientific investigation ; 
 when we reach an ultimate lavv^ of nature or an ulti- 
 mate fact, we are satisfied. We do not wish to go be- 
 yond it, because there is no going beyond it; and all 
 the demands and efforts of our reason might be said 
 to be to the end of finding something about which we 
 have to reason no more. Such a recognition as this
 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES IX ETHICS. 277 
 
 when made in the realm of morals is sometimes mis- 
 understood. When we propose an ultimate rule of 
 right action and say that no reason can be given for it, 
 this is misinterpreted as meaning that we give up re- 
 liance or reason and abandon ourselves to mysticism ; 
 while it is reason and reason only that has brought us 
 to the discovery of the ultimate rule, and the rule 
 might be called (if so long a word can be pardoned) 
 the objectification of reason — that is, reason written 
 out into an objective law. Mysticism is, if I under- 
 stand the word, a love of vague, shadowy, nebulous 
 thoughts, a preference of twilight or the dark rather 
 than the clear light of day ; but nothing is clearer, more 
 distinct, (to one who thinks along the lines I have just 
 followed) than this ultimate law of right which I have 
 stated ; no reason could be given for it that is as clear 
 as the law itself. A sense of all this is the motive for 
 the assertion sometimes made that it is absurd for a 
 man to ask. Why should I do right ? For when one finds 
 the real, ultimate right, the question is absurd ; but 
 this does not mean that it is absurd to ask why one 
 should be temperate, or truthful, or chaste, or obedient 
 to authority, all of which are right only in relation to cir- 
 cumstances that may change. When we find out what 
 is right, when we discover any special minor duty that 
 is really duty, there is nothing under heaven for us 
 but to do it; and the question, W^hy? as it is some- 
 times raised does not mean a demand for intellectual 
 clarification, but rather. What am I going to get by 
 doing right ? and springs from a base motive rather 
 than a noble one. There are not a few of these spe- 
 cious questioners to-day — weak, timid children of fash- 
 ion and conventional religion — who ask why should 
 they rule their passions and live sober righteous lives.
 
 278 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 unless it is that they are going to be rewarded for it 
 hereafter; so little does popular Christianity really 
 educate the moral nature of its followers. For there 
 is this implication in the idea of an ultimate rule of 
 action — namely, that man has a capacity of acting in 
 accordance with it, that there is (what we may call for 
 lack of a better term) an instinct for the right in him, 
 a love for the right as such, just as there is a love for 
 the truth as such, irrespective of any personal gain 
 save the consciousness of knowing it ; this disinter- 
 ested love of truth is the basic motive of science and 
 the love of right is the basic motive of really moral 
 conduct. 
 
 From the standpoint of the supreme rule it ought 
 now to be possible to survey the whole field of duty 
 and to give an explanation and justification for each 
 minor rule. This would be necessary to complete our 
 investigation and to give it a thoroughly scientific 
 character. But I fear I have already taken more space 
 than should be accorded to a single article.
 
 THE "IS" AND THE "OUGHT." 
 
 The distinction between explicative and normative 
 sciences is for certain purposes very commendable. 
 Such sciences as psychology, physiology, botany, gram- 
 mar, etc., explain the "is," they describe facts as they 
 are, while such sciences as logic, horticulture, hygiene, 
 ethics, etc., set forth an "ought"; they prescribe the 
 methods by which a certain ideal is to be attained. 
 Normative sciences in so far as they are practically 
 applied are also called disciplines. 
 
 Yet the distinction between explicative and norma- 
 tive sciences is artificial ; it serves a certain purely 
 scientific purpose, viz. to discriminate between natural 
 laws and rules ; but it is not founded in the nature of 
 things. The realities which form the objects of these 
 sciences are undivided and indivisible. Hygiene is 
 possible only on the basis of physiology ; logic only 
 on the basis of a knowledge of the actual modes of 
 thought ; horticulture only on the basis of botany, and 
 ethics only on the basis of psychology and sociology. 
 
 It is true that as a rule a skilled gardener will raise 
 better fruit than a scientific botanist, but the best fruit 
 will be raised in the botanical gardens where skill is 
 guided by scientific insight. 
 
 The ethics of mankind has up to date been almost 
 exclusively in the hands of the clergy, who in so far as
 
 28o THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 they are imbued with the spirit of dogmatism, claim to 
 be in possession of a nostrum which was by a divine 
 revelation entrusted solely to their care, and maintain 
 that nothing can be learned from science. The pres- 
 ent age, however, no longer believes in nostrums and 
 science penetrates everywhere. Humanity has found 
 out that ethics forms no exception among the norma- 
 tive disciplines and that it can be based upon science 
 as much as hygiene and horticulture. 
 
 The greatest demand of the time is not as the icon- 
 oclast says the abolition of religion, it is not as the 
 dogmatist says, a revival of the blind faith of ages gone 
 by, the greatest demand of the time is a conciliation 
 between religion and science, is the imbuement of the 
 clergy with the holy spirit of research, not in their 
 symbolic books only, not in the Bible only, but in the 
 wider and more reliable revelation of God, in nature ; 
 the greatest demand of the time is the maturing of 
 dogmatic religion into a religion of science which will 
 finally turn the cathedrals, temples, and synagogues 
 of mankind into churches of science. 
 
 The Christian catechisms distinguish between the 
 visible churches and the Invisible Church, the latter 
 being the ideal of the former. There is a great truth 
 in this distinction. The Invisible Church is that church 
 whose faith is the religion of science, who preaches 
 the ethics based upon facts and stands upon the ground 
 of demonstrable truth. The Invisible Church is an 
 ideal ; but it is not an air castle. The Invisible Church 
 is the aim toward which the development of all the 
 visible churches tends. So long as the visible churches 
 grow to be more and more like the Invisible Church, 
 they will be and remain the moral leaders of man- 
 kind.
 
 7 [IE "/S'' AXD THE ''OUGinV 281 
 
 If the churches refuse to progress with the spirit 
 of the time, they will lose their iniiuence upon society, 
 and the kingdom will be taken from them and given 
 to others. That which we want, that which we must 
 have, and that which mankind will have after all, if 
 not to-day or to-morrow, yet in some not too distant 
 future is a church which preaches the religion of hu- 
 manity, which has no creed, no dogmas, but avowing 
 a faith in truth and in the provableness of truth, 
 teaches an ethics based upon the facts of nature. 
 
 When the Ethical Societies were founded many 
 people hoped that a movement was started which 
 would supply the demand of a religion of science and 
 of scientific ethics applied to practical life. This hope 
 was not fulfilled. The founder of the ethical societies is 
 swayed by principles which are little short of an actual 
 hostility toward science, and Mr. Salter is not as yet 
 free from the belief that the ultimate basis of science 
 rests upon some transcendental principle. Science in 
 his opinion fails at the critical point. 
 
 The Societies of Ethical Culture can be called pro- 
 gressive in so far only as they discard rituals and cere- 
 monies ; but they are actually a reactionary movement 
 on the main point in question. And there are frequent 
 instances of clergymen and rabbis who proclaim freely 
 and boldly the advanced ideas of a scientific concep- 
 tion of religion. Such views are not only not heard 
 from the platforms of the Societies for Ethical Cul- 
 ture, but they are stigmatised by their leader. 
 
 It seems to me that in the present article Mr. Sal- 
 ter has considerably approached our position. He 
 objects to mysticism, which Professor Adler formerly 
 regarded as an indispensable element of ethics and 
 ethical culture, and we may hope that the barrier of
 
 282 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 his transcendentalism that separates us still may be 
 
 broken down too. 
 
 Mr. Salter says : 
 
 " Here then is the field for our inquiry — not nature, not man 
 in general, not his actions, but the rules according to which he 
 conceives he should act." 
 
 But he exclaims with a tinge of hopeless despair, 
 as if there were no answer to the question : 
 
 "Where shall we turn for light as to this problem ? " 
 
 He answers the question by a counter-question ; he 
 asks : 
 
 " Who does not see that everything depends upon the use to 
 which we mean to put oar knowledge ? " 
 
 " It seems to be taken for granted that everybody desires hap- 
 piness or long life for himself and others." 
 
 "But the fact is that we may desire* other things." 
 
 Is Mr. Salter's question unanswerable? We hope 
 not; for if it were unanswerable, ethics could not ex- 
 ist as a science. 
 
 The ultimate question of ethics is not what WE 
 desire, but on the contrary what IS desired of us. We, 
 i. e. our personal likes and dislikes, our intentions to 
 make or to mar, have nothing to do with the subject. 
 Ethics does not in the least depend upon the use to 
 which we mean to put our knowledge. The mere in- 
 troduction of the we and what we intend to use facts 
 for, will produce confusion. This "we" of our per- 
 sonal desires is the veil of Maya which deceives us 
 and leads us so easily astray. 
 
 The "is" that forms the basis of the "ought" in 
 ethics consists in the nature of mankind and of the 
 universe in which mankind exists. The laws of na- 
 ture, especially of human nature and of the evolution 
 
 * Italics are ours.
 
 THE ''IS'' AND THE ''OUGIITr 283 
 
 of liumanity, are the very same thing which the dog- 
 matic rehgions call ''the will of God." The will of 
 God remains and will remain, for ever and aye, the ba- 
 sis of ethics. 
 
 Facts are such as they are, and the laws of nature 
 v/ill prevail. This is the basic truth of ethics and any 
 question whether we shall recognise the will of God, 
 whether we shall acknowledge the truth of nature's 
 laws, whether we shall adopt the rules that are de- 
 rived from the "is" into our will as the supreme rule 
 of action, is another question of a personal nature, but 
 it does neither invalidate the basis of ethics, nor does 
 it stand in any connection with it. 
 
 We might be dissatisfied with the laws of nature 
 and might imagine that we, if we had created the 
 world, should have arranged them better than they are. 
 We might decline to respect the precepts of the moral 
 ought. That would doom our souls to perdition, for 
 O Man ! who art thou that repliest against God ? 
 (Rom. ix, 20.) It is hard for thee to kick against the 
 pricks. (Acts ix, 5.) 
 
 The ought of ethics remains the same whether I, or 
 you, or anybody else, deigns to follow, or refuses to fol- 
 low, its behests ; for the ultimate basis of ethics is not 
 founded upon any so-called immovable rock of our con- 
 science, not upon our subjective likes or dislikes, not 
 upon what we choose to do or to leave alone. The 
 ultimate basis of ethics is of an objective nature. The 
 criterion of ethics is one of fact and not of opinion. 
 That which has to be the standard of moral action can 
 be inquired into, and can be searched for by scientific 
 methods ; it can be stated with as much exactness as 
 the mathematical or logical rules or as any other pre- 
 cepts of the normative sciences.
 
 284 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Ethics is a normative science. It is as truly a science 
 in every respect as are all the normative sciences. 
 The ultimate principles of the normative sciences are 
 not of a transcendental nature, they are founded upon 
 the actual facts of life; the "ought" derives its rules 
 from the "is," the ideal is rooted and must be rooted 
 in the real.
 
 AN ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL OUGHT. 
 
 COMMENTS UPON PROF. H. SIDGWICK'S VIEW. 
 
 The question has been raised by ethical students, 
 How is it that man has the idea of "ought" at all?* 
 
 The ideas "right," "moral goodness," "duty," 
 
 the "ought," etc., are fundamental notions of ethics. 
 
 As such they should be carefully defined ; yet they are 
 
 frequently used by moralists without an analysis of 
 
 their meaning. Professor Sidgwick says in his article 
 
 "Some Fundamental Ethical Controversies," i]//W, 
 
 No. 56, p. 480 : 
 
 " Different systems give different answers to the fundamental 
 question, ' What is right,' but not, therefore, a different meaning 
 to the question." 
 
 Professor Sidgwick adds : 
 
 •'According tome, this fundamental notion is ultimate and 
 unanalysable ; in saying which I do not mean to affirm that it be- 
 longs to the 'original constitution of the mind,' and is not the re- 
 sult of a process of development ; that is a question of psychol- 
 
 ♦ I owe the suggestion of writing this article to Mr. Salter. He takes the 
 view that the " ought " is an obligation of absolute authority residing beyond 
 facts and beyond the realm of science. Thus my attention was called to the 
 importance of an analysis of the ought-idea itself. Whether or not the ought- 
 idea is conceived as absolute, ultimate, and unanalysable is not a merely 
 theoretical problem, it is of practical importance ; for if we suppose that the 
 ought is absolute, ultimate, and unanalysable, we are prevented from inquir- 
 ing into its nature and come under the spell of a mysticism that debars pro- 
 gress and further philosophical research.
 
 286 TFIE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 ogy — or rather psychogony with which I am not concerned : I 
 merely mean that as I now find it in my thought, I cannot resolve 
 it into, or explain it by, any more elementary notions. I regard it 
 as co-ordinate with the notion expressed by the word ' is ' or ' ex- 
 ists.' Possibly these and other fundamental notions may, in the 
 progress of philosophy, prove capable of being arranged in some 
 system of rational evolution ; but I hold that no such system has 
 as yet been constructed and that, therefore, the notions are now 
 and for us ultimate." 
 
 The " ought " is most certainly a fact, or to use Pro- 
 fessor Sidgwick's words, it is ''a co-ordinate with the 
 notion expressed by the word 'is' or 'exists.' " But 
 he who attempts to describe the meaning of the 
 "ought" will find that it is neither unanalysable nor 
 ultimate ; on the contrary it is a complex fact of a very 
 special kind. The expression "ought " represents a cer- 
 tain relation among the ideas of a hving, thinking, 
 and acting creature. 
 
 By "analysing an idea," I understand, as Professor 
 Sidgwick expresses it, "a resolving it into more ele- 
 mentary notions." All our notions are descriptions of 
 facts. Those notions which represent a complex state 
 of things accordingly are analysable, they can be de- 
 scribed as certain relations or certain configurations of 
 more elementary and more simple facts. Analysing 
 is at the same time classifying. The most elementary 
 and most simple facts would be those qualities of 
 phenomena which are a universal feature of reality. 
 And it is a matter of course that something that is uni- 
 versal can in its turn be no further subsumed under 
 more general views. Analysis as well as classification 
 ends with the universal and simplest qualities of exist- 
 ence. 
 
 The mind of a living being consists of many im- 
 pulses the origin of which is a problem that belongs
 
 AN ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL OUGHT. 287 
 
 (as Professor Sidgwick declares of the "ought"), to 
 psychogony. Yet the subject is too important to be 
 left out in ethics and if Professor Sidgwick knows of 
 no system that can analyse such facts as the ethical 
 impulse of "the ought," it is highly desirable to do 
 the work. 
 
 Impulses are tendencies to pass into action. To 
 pass into action is an incipient motion. What is mo- 
 tion? 
 
 Motion is change of place. Hydrogen and oxygen 
 when brought into contact show a tendency to com- 
 bine; they exhibit an incipient motion. A ball placed 
 on a slanting surface will roll down ; it is going to 
 change its place and this state is an incipient motion. 
 The process of chemical combination and the rolling 
 ball are motions, but no actions; they are not deeds 
 of rational beings. 
 
 The word "action" is used in two senses, (i) to 
 designate the purposive deeds of rational beings ; and 
 (2) to denote a certain view of motion, which should 
 include every kind of efficiency, not only real mo- 
 tions, i. e. changes of place, but also pressures where 
 the effect of the action is to counteract another 
 action of equal force : thus the result of -f i and — i 
 is a zero of motion, or rest. In this wider sense of 
 the word we speak of the action of oxygen upon other 
 elements and the action of a resting stone that exer- 
 cises a pressure. Action in the narrow sense of the 
 word, designating the deeds of rational beings, is a 
 very complex kind of motion. There is some addi- 
 tional feature in action. What is that additional 
 feature?
 
 288 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Action is purposive motion. What is purpose ? 
 
 Purpose is the aim of the actor. 
 
 Has the rolling ball no aim? Yes it has an aim. 
 Motion cannot be thought without possessing a definite 
 direction. Every gravitating body has an aim. It does 
 not always reach its aim, but that is of no account. 
 Every chemical atom that combines with another atom 
 has an aim. Every piece of reality is acting somehow in 
 a definite way. The end of the direction of its action 
 is called the aim of its action. If there are obstacles 
 preventing a motion reaching its aim, the motion comes 
 to a rest. That is the end of the motion, yet not the end 
 of the activity of the moving body. The action of 
 the moving body (i. e. in the wider sense of the term 
 "action") continues in the shape of pressure in the 
 direction of the aim. 
 
 These processes are described by the physicist who 
 uses the terms kinetic and potential energy to repre- 
 sent the two forms of the activity of acting things. All 
 acting things are real. Their activity is that feature 
 which makes them real. Activity in this sense of the 
 term is called in German Wirklichkeit, and Wii'klichkeit 
 at the same time means "reality." 
 
 Every motion having an aim, purpose must be 
 something more than "aim"; and indeed it is. Pur- 
 pose is the conscious representation of an aim. The 
 falling stone has an aim. If the stone were conscious 
 of its aim, we should say, that the falling stone has a 
 purpose. 
 
 This then is the main difference between motion 
 and action, between aim and purpose. Action (in the 
 narrow sense of the term) is conscious motion, and 
 purpose is a conscious aim.
 
 AN ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL OUGIIT. -Sr, 
 
 Action and motion are different, but on the other 
 hand they possess something in common. The simi- 
 larity between action and motion is their spontaneity. 
 
 The gravity of a stone acts in a certain way ac- 
 cording to the stone's poiiition. This gravity is a qual- 
 ity of the stone, it is part of its existence, it is its 
 intrinsic and inalienable nature. There is not a force 
 outside the stone that pushes it, there is no external 
 so-called "cause " * that makes it fall, but the stone it- 
 self falls. The stone falls because that is its nature, 
 and when lying on the ground it exercises a certain 
 pressure, because that is its nature. In certain posi- 
 tions this same nature, called "gravity," acts as mo- 
 tion, in others as pressure; but throughout it is spon- 
 taneous activity — spontaneous, because rising out of 
 its own being, and characterising its real nature. 
 
 This same spontaneity is found throughout reality, 
 in organic nature, and also in the conscious actions of 
 living organisms. The spontaneity of living organisms 
 is so immediate that men have always believed that 
 their actions (in the absence of compulsion) are their 
 own doing and that they are responsible for their ac- 
 tions. This state of things has been called freedom of 
 will. And certainly this conception is not based upon 
 error, it is true. Yet men noticing that actions per- 
 formed without the compulsion of others are spontan- 
 eous expressions of the actor's character, forgot that 
 
 ♦This wrong usage of the term " cause" has discredited the idea of cause, 
 so that philosophers rose to say, there are no causes whatever. Their inten- 
 tions were riglu ; there are no causes acting as agents upon things. But this 
 wrong usage of the term cause is no reason to discard a useful idea. Causa- 
 tion is transformation and the term " cause " should mean only the relatively 
 first motion in a series of motions representing in a certain process the start 
 of the transformation which can be arbitrarily selected, and " effect " the final 
 state of things with which the process ends. (See Fund. Prob. pp. 96—104.)
 
 290 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 this is true of all activity in nature. The light burns 
 because it is its nature to burn. The burning is spon- 
 taneous. The oxygen combines with the fatty sub- 
 stances of the oil in the wick not because there is a 
 so-called ''cause" operating upon it, but because the 
 oxygen is a reality of a definite nature and to enter 
 under this condition into a combination with certain 
 atoms of combustible materials is this nature of the 
 oxygen. Its action is spontaneous just as much as a 
 man's action is spontaneous. 
 
 There is no reality but it is possessed of spontane- 
 ity, nay reality is spontaneity itself ; and the constancy 
 of this spontaneity makes it that natural processes, the 
 actions of men included, can be foreseen and prede- 
 termined ; or as the scientist expresses it that all na- 
 ture is governed by law — not that there were a law 
 from the outside imposed upon the world, but that the 
 nature of everything that exists is constant in all its 
 changes, that accordingly it exhibits regularities which 
 can be described in formulas called natural laws. 
 
 Natural law is no oppression of nature. Natural 
 law is only a description of its being ; and nature is 
 free throughout. Everything in nature acts not as it 
 must, but (to speak anthropomorphically) as it wills, 
 i. e. according to its own being. 
 
 Man's actions are distinguished from the motions 
 of so-called inanimate nature in so far as he is con- 
 scious of his aim. The aims of so-called inanimate 
 nature are not conscious, they cannot be called pur- 
 poses. Conscious beings alone can have purposes. The 
 problem of the origin of consciousness accordingly will 
 also solve the problem of the origin of purpose and
 
 AN ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL OUGHT. 291 
 
 purposive action. We have treated the problem of the 
 origin of consciousness at length on other occasions, 
 which briefly recapitulated is as follows : * 
 
 Consciousness is a certain feature of our existence 
 which is best characterised as awareness. Conscious- 
 ness is not objective existence, it is not matter and 
 not motion : it is subjective existence. Consciousness 
 is a complex state of simpler elements and these simpler 
 elements are called feelings. The simplest feelings a 
 man knows of are perceived as awarenesses of certain 
 states. Feelings as they are perceived and known have 
 a meaning, and this meaning originates by comparison 
 with other feelings and memories of feelings. Feel- 
 ings represent something, and that which they repre- 
 rent is called the object. A feeling organism feels it- 
 self as a body, as an objective thing among things. 
 This body affects and is affected by other bodies and 
 it feels differently as it is differently affected. Although 
 other bodies like our own body belong to and are a 
 part of objective existence, we communicate with them 
 and cannot deal with them otherwise than by treating 
 them as possessing subjectivity. We regard them as 
 conscious beings like ourselves. Their feelings, their 
 consciousness cannot be seen, but their whole attitude 
 indicates that their feelings are analogous to ours. It 
 is natural that feelings cannot be seen, or observed, 
 for they are not objective states but subjective states. 
 They are felt by the subject that is feeling. Our own 
 feelings would appear to others who looked into our 
 pulsating brain as motions, so it is natural that the 
 feelings of others can appear to us likewise as motions 
 only. Motion and feeling accordingly are the subjec- 
 tive and objective aspects of reality. 
 
 * See The Soul of Man, pp. 23-45
 
 292 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Every feeling is objectively considered a motion, 
 but not vice versa. Not every motion is a feeling. 
 Feelings are in their objective aspect very complex 
 motions. Yet while we do not say that every motion 
 is a feeling, we say that every objective existence, is 
 at the same time a subjective existence, and this sub- 
 jective existence which seems of no account in inor- 
 ganic nature, is no mere blank, it is, not feeling, but 
 potentiality of feeling ; it contains the germs of psy- 
 chical existence, and this leads to the inevitable con- 
 clusion that the world is throughout spiritual in its 
 innermost nature. That which appears to a subject 
 as objectivity is in itself subjectivity, that which ap- 
 pears as matter is in itself spiritual : either actual spirit 
 or potential spirit. 
 
 We can form no idea of the subjective existence of 
 inorganic nature, but its objective existence is grand 
 enough to satisfy us. The subjectivity of the sun for 
 instance may be as grand as the enormous amount of 
 energy that carries his light through cosmic space, an 
 extremely small part of which is intercepted by the 
 earth where it is the main source of light and life and 
 joy. Yet whatever be the subjectivity of inorganic na- 
 ture, apparently it does not consist in representations. 
 Representations originate only with the rise of feelings 
 v/hen feelings acquire certain meanings, and when sub- 
 jectivity becomes representative we call it mind. 
 
 Living organisms are active beings, and with the 
 rise of consciousness the aims of their actions become 
 purposes. 
 
 Suppose a conscious being were possessed of one 
 purpose only, his action would be determined by that 
 one purpose. Yet living beings are very complex and 
 the memory-structures of their minds will under cer-
 
 AN ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL OUGHT. 293 
 
 tain circumstances naturally suggest in a rapid succes- 
 sion several propositions of which one only can be se- 
 lected as a purpose. The conflict among these several 
 propositions, which are called motives of action, will 
 cause a delay, this conflict is called deliberation, which 
 lasts until the strongest motive has overcome the re- 
 sistance of the other motives. 
 
 The strongest motive at any one moment is by no 
 means the strongest motive at other moments. Thus 
 actions are done which afterwards would not have been 
 done. If a man considers a former action performed 
 through a motive that has lost its strength, he pro- 
 nounces the verdict "I ought not have done it." 
 
 This "ought" is not as yet the moral ought. The 
 moral ought is still more complex. 
 
 If a man has a certain purpose and performs an 
 action in compliance with that purpose but fails in 
 realising his purpose, he says, I ought to have acted 
 otherwise in order to attain my purpose. His means 
 to the end were inadequate. If on another occasion 
 he follows the same motive, he says to himself, I have 
 more carefully to consider the means to the end I have 
 in view. 
 
 This idea of " I have to " is again an ought, but it 
 is not as yet the moral ought. 
 
 The choice among several motives to do a thing, 
 or among several ways of doing a thing is the condi- 
 tion of any ought. The idea that this or that will have 
 to be regretted or will fail, that another thing will not 
 have to be regretted and will succeed, leads to the 
 formulation of rules. These rules appear to him who 
 has the intention to obey them, as an ought. 
 
 It is natural that those motives which promise 
 pleasure are stronger than others. Almost all the rules
 
 294 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of ought are to protect a man against the temptation 
 of his pleasure-promising motives. 
 
 The idea of ought in general is a very complex 
 idea, yet the moral ought is still more complex. What 
 is the moral ought ? 
 
 Man is a social animal. Society is not merely a 
 collection of individuals, but the individual is a pro- 
 duct of society. An individual that is prompted by 
 egotistic motives alone will always fail in the end ; and 
 suppose that a certain man's fate were an exception, 
 that he succeeded by a favorable combination of cir- 
 cumstances, death will defeat him after all. 
 
 A man in whom the idea of his being a member of 
 a family, of a nation, of humanity, is a live presence, 
 will feel bound to stand up for the common welfare 
 with equal or even more energy than for his private 
 interests. He is impressed with the importance that 
 everyone in his place has to attend to the work al- 
 lotted him, and he himself will be serious in the per- 
 formance of what he is wont to call duty. 
 
 Duty is formulated as a norm or a prescript which 
 is to be the highest motive for action and the intent 
 of the moral man is to make it unbendingly strong so 
 as to overrule all other considerations. 
 
 * * 
 
 To sum up : 
 
 We have seen that the moral ought is not unana- 
 lysable, it is not an ultimate notion. It is a very com- 
 plex mental fact which admits of analysis and a de- 
 scription of both its origin and its nature. The moral 
 ought is a special kind of any ought or of any rule of 
 action devised for the guidance of conduct. Conduct is 
 a special case of natural processes; it is a motion plus 
 purpose, purpose being an aim pursued with conscious
 
 AN ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL OUGHT. 295 
 
 intention. And aim, again, is one constituent feature 
 of motion. There is no motion without aim. The 
 ought grows from the realm of inorganic existence to- 
 gether with the unfolding of mind in animal organ- 
 isms and it reaches its grandest development in the 
 moral ideals of man. 
 
 Professor Sidgwick has sufficiently guarded his 
 statement, saying that he merely means he cannot now 
 resolve it into or explain it by any more elementary 
 elements. Nevertheless it is not advisable to deal 
 with a fundamental idea as if it were unexplain- 
 able or unanalysable and thus cast the glamor of mys- 
 ticism over the whole realm of the most important and 
 practical of sciences. There are ethical students who 
 follow blindly the authority of such a great teacher as is 
 Professor Sidgwick and they are too apt to forget the 
 cautious limitation of his words preaching the mystery 
 of the ought in its transcendent incomprehensibility. 
 
 There are always minds who love to live in the 
 twilight of thought, who think that the unintelligible 
 is grander than that which can be understood; and 
 these minds seize eagerly upon every expression that 
 throws a shadow on science, that dwarfs philosophy, 
 and makes human knowledge appear dull and useless.
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 
 
 AN EXAMINATION OF THE ETHICAL VIEWS OF JOHN 
 
 STUART MILL. 
 
 I. THE MEANING OF BASING ETHICS UPON NATURE. 
 
 John Stuart Mill has written an essay on Nature 
 in which he "inquires into the truth of the doctrines 
 which make Nature a test of right and wrong." He 
 sums up the results of his inquiry in the following con- 
 clusions : 
 
 ' ' The word Nature has two principal meanings : it either de- 
 notes the entire system of things, with the aggregate of all their 
 properties, or it denotes things as they v/ould be, apart from human 
 intervention. 
 
 " In the first of these senses, the doctrine that man ought to 
 follow nature is unmeaning ; since man has no power to do any- 
 thing else than follow nature ; all his actions are done through, 
 and in obedience to, some one or many of nature's physical or 
 mental laws. 
 
 "In the other sense of the term, the doctrine that man ought 
 to follow nature, or in other words, ought to make the spontaneous 
 course of things the model of his voluntary actions, is equally irra- 
 tional and immoral. 
 
 "Irrational, because all human action whatever, consists in 
 altering, and all useful action in improving, the spontaneous course 
 of nature : 
 
 "Immoral, because the course of natural phenomena being 
 replete with everything which when committed by human beings 
 is most worthy of abhorrence, any one who endeavoured in his
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 297 
 
 actions to imitate the natural course of things would be universally 
 seen and acknowledged to be the wickedest of men." 
 
 If the word Nature is used in the second meaning, 
 it is obvious that an imitation of nature would signify 
 the suppression of the human in man, of that which 
 is properly called ethical ; it would deprive man of his 
 most characteristic and noblest feature, — rationality 
 — and degrade him into an animal blindly obeying its 
 instincts. 
 
 Yet what is instinct but inherited habit ? How 
 have habits been acquired but by repeated action? 
 Instinct is by no means bare of the rational element. 
 Instinct is not totally blind. Although it may not 
 prove rational intelligence in the individual, yet it 
 does prove rational intelligence in the race. Instinct 
 can be explained only as having been acquired through 
 race-experience. The human has grown out of the 
 race-experience of man's ancestors, and the rationality 
 of certain instincts are a prophecy of the human. If 
 the blindness of instinct has to be called "natural," 
 and that element of rationality, however small it may 
 be, which represents judgment and may be con- 
 sidered as the germ of humanity is to be counted as 
 "non-natural," the whole animal kingdom from man 
 down to the moner must be classed as part of the non- 
 natural domain of the world. Nature in that case 
 would have to be limited to the province of unorgan- 
 ised things, to stones or minerals, and the v/orld of 
 plants might be a disputed ground. 
 
 This conception of nature is not admissible, and it 
 contradicts its etymological meaning, which is not as 
 yet forgotten. The word "Nature" is derived from 
 nascere, to grow, and denotes especially the evolution 
 of organised life.
 
 298 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 If we take ''nature" in its first meaning, denoting 
 " the entire system of things with the aggregate of all 
 the properties," Mr. Mill declares that the doctrine 
 that ''man ought to follow nature " has no meaning. 
 He says : 
 
 "The scheme of Nature regarded in its whole extent, cannot 
 have had, for its sole or even principal object, the good of human 
 or other sentient beings. What good it brings to them, is mostly 
 the result of their own exertions." 
 
 Certainly, that good which nature brings to sen- 
 tient beings, is mostly the result of their own exertions. 
 But if nature comprises the entire system of things, it 
 also includes the exertions of sentient beings. That 
 sentient beings can make efforts, is one of the most 
 important, nay, for us it is the all-important part of 
 nature. In other words, ethics is not something arti- 
 ficial in contrast to that which is natural, it is not som^e- 
 thing non-natural or unnatural ; ethics is the most 
 characteristic feature of human nature. 
 
 Mr. Mill has much to say about art and the arti- 
 ficial. He treats art as something radically different 
 from nature. He ought to have remembered Shake- 
 speare's lines : 
 
 " Yet nature is made better by no mean, 
 But nature makes that mean ; so, over that art, 
 Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art 
 That nature makes. . , . . . 
 
 This is an art 
 
 Which does mend nature — change, rather ; but 
 The art itself is nature !" — Winter's Talc. 
 
 Mr. Mill tries to dispel some ambiguities that lurk 
 in the old proposition naturam sequi, yet he confines 
 his investigation to one interpretation of this rule only, 
 and indeed to that which is the crudest and the most 
 obviously absurd conception we can form of it, so crude
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 299 
 
 (hat nobody has ever maintained it and, so far as I 
 know, even thought of it before Mr. Mill refuted its 
 proposition. 
 
 * * 
 
 In the introductory remarks to his essay on Na- 
 ture, Mr. Mill complains about the "many meanings, 
 different from the primary one, yet sufficiently allied 
 to it to admit of confusion." The article was appar- 
 ently suggested by the reading of certain propositions 
 of theological authors, who maintain that nature must 
 be considered as a divine revelation \ nature's doings are 
 acts of God; the scheme of nature indicates a plan 
 wisely premeditated and designed to serve the good 
 of human or of other sentient beings; and that "all 
 things are for wis3 and good ends. Such a view has 
 been presented to "exalt instinct at the expense of 
 reason." 
 
 Mr. Mill deals with these notions with great adroit- 
 ness. He refutes the idea that natural processes are 
 an indication of the Creator's designs. Natural laws 
 act blindly ; the storm rages without taking into con- 
 sideration that it may do harm to sentient beings. 
 
 Now, if we consider nature as a personal being who 
 acts not in uniformities of law, but with conscious 
 knowledge of the consequences of his doings, and ad- 
 justing them to special ends, it would truly be ridic- 
 ulous to say that we must act as indeliberately, ruth- 
 lessly, and blindly, as nature acts. Mr. Mill has 
 succeeded completely in the refutation of this view, 
 although it almost appears to me that a serious refu- 
 tation is scarcely necessary. 
 
 The following passage might be suspected of hu- 
 mor, but Mr. Mill is in deep earnest. 
 
 He says :
 
 300 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 " In sober truth, nearly all the things which men are hanged 
 or imprisoned for doing to one another, are nature's every day 
 performances. Killing, the most criminal act recognised by hu- 
 man laws, Nature does once to every being that lives ; and in a 
 large proportion of cases, after protracted tortures such as only 
 the greatest monsters whom we read of ever purposely inflicted on 
 their living fellow-creatures. 
 
 " Nature impales men, breaks them as if on the wheel, casts 
 them to be devoured by wild beasts, burns them to death, crushes 
 them with stones like the first christian martyr, starves them with 
 hunger, freezes them with cold, poisons them by the quick or 
 slow venom of her exhalations, and has hundreds of other hideous 
 deaths in reserve, such as the ingenious cruelty of a Nabis or a 
 Domitian never surpassed. All this. Nature does with the most 
 supercilious disregard both of mercy and of justice, emptying her 
 shafts upon the best and noblest indifferently with the meanest 
 and worst ; upon those who are engaged in the highest and wor- 
 thiest enterprises, and often as the direct consequence of the no- 
 blest acts ; and it might almost be imagined as a punishment for 
 them. She mows down those on whose existence hangs the well- 
 being of a whole people, perhaps the prospects of the human race 
 for generations to come, with as little compunction as those whose 
 death is a relief to themselves, or a blessing to those under their 
 noxious influence. Such are Nature's dealings with life. Next to 
 taking life (equal to it according to a high authority) is taking the 
 means by which we live ; and Nature does this too on the largest 
 scale and v/ith the most callous indifference. A single hurricane 
 destroys the hopes of a season ; a flight of locusts, or an inunda- 
 tion, desolates a district ; a trifling chemical change in an edible 
 root, starves a million of people. The waves of the sea, like ban- 
 ditti seize and appropriate the wealth of the rich and the little all 
 of the poor with the same accompaniments of stripping, wound- 
 ing, and killing as their human antitypes. Everything in short, 
 which the worst men commit either against life or property is 
 perpetrated on a larger scale by natural agents. 
 
 " Nature has Noyades more fatal than those of Carrier ; her 
 explosions of fire damp are as destructive as human artillery ; her 
 plague and cholera far surpass the poison cups of the Borgias. 
 Even the love of ' order ' which is thought to be a following of the 
 ways of Nature, is in fact a contradiction of them. All which 
 people are accustomed to deprecate as ' disorder ' and its conse-
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 301 
 
 quences, is precisely a counterpart of Nature's ways. Anarchy 
 and the Reign of Terror are overmatched in injustice, ruin, and 
 death, by a hurricane and a pestilence." 
 
 The passage quoted appears to me of special in- 
 terest because the anthropomorphic view of nature is 
 pushed to its utmost extreme. Mr. Mill combats here the 
 conception of a personification of nature which is un- 
 equalled in mythology. Mr. Mill concludes from his 
 considerations : 
 
 " Nature cannot be a proper model for us to imitate. Either 
 it is right that we should kill because nature kills ; torture because 
 nature tortures ; ruin and devastate because nature does the like ; 
 or we ought not to consider at all what nature does, but what it is 
 good to do. If there is such a thing as a rediutio ad absurdum, 
 this surely amounts to one. If it is a sufficient reason for doing 
 one thing, that nature does it, why not another thing ? If not all 
 things, why anything ? The physical government of the world 
 being full of the things which when done by men are deemed the 
 greatest enormities, it cannot be religious or moral in us to guide 
 our actions by the analogy of the course of nature." 
 
 Mr. Mill apparently takes the words naturam segui 
 in the sense of naturam iviitari. To follow nature is 
 in his conception not a conforming to the entire system 
 of things and its laws, but the regarding the facts of 
 nature as the actions of a person, and acting accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 If "nature" is taken in the sense of the whole 
 system of things, the precept to follow nature, Mr. 
 Mill says, is, with reference to the irrefragable neces- 
 sity of natural laws, meaningless. For every atom — 
 so to say — obeys the law of gravitation, and every mo- 
 tive sufficiently strong to incite a man to action, if not 
 counteracted by other and equally strong motives, will 
 pass into an act ; it will — so to say — obey the laws of 
 psychical dynamics. Any advice to obey the laws of
 
 302 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 nature in this sense is not quite as ridiculous as the 
 injunction to imitate nature, but it is meaningless. It 
 makes no sense. 
 
 But there is another sense still — and Mr. Mill has 
 not overlooked it — in which the doctrine of basing 
 ethics upon nature can be conceived. Mr. Mill, it 
 appears, has devoted little space to an explanation of 
 it, because to his mind it seemed so very obvious and 
 unquestionably correct. Indeed it is as unquestion- 
 ably correct as the other views which he combats are 
 unquestionably erroneous and meaningless. 
 
 The original definition of nature is formulated by 
 
 Mill as follows : 
 
 "As the nature of any given thing is the aggregate of its 
 powers and properties, so Nature in the abstract is the aggregate 
 of the powers and properties of all things. 
 
 " Nature means the sum of all phenomena, together with the 
 causes which produce them ; including not only all that happens, 
 but all that is capable of happening ; the unused capabilities of 
 causes being as much a part of the idea of Nature, as those which 
 take effect." 
 
 Mr. Mill concludes : 
 
 "Since all phenomena which have been sufficiently examined 
 are found to take place with regularity, each having certain fixed 
 conditions .... on the occurrence of which it invariably happens ; 
 mankind have been able to ascertain, either by direct observation 
 or by reasoning processes grounded on it, the conditions of the oc- 
 currence of many phenomena ; and the progress of science mainly 
 consists in ascertaining those conditions." 
 
 Ir. Mill proposes to express the doctrine not by 
 
 naturam sequi but by naturam observare. He says : 
 
 ' To acquire knowledge of the properties of things, and make 
 use of the knowledge for guidance, is a rule of prudence, for the 
 adaptation of means to ends ; for giving effect to our wishes and 
 intentions whatever they may be. 
 
 "If, therefore, the useless precept to follow nature were 
 changed into a precept to study nature ; to know and take heed of
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 303 
 
 the properties of the things we have to deal with, so far as these 
 properties are capable of forwarding or obstructing any given pur- 
 pose ; we should have arrived at the first principle of all intelligent 
 action, or rather at the definition of intelligent action itself." 
 
 The ancients, Mr. Mill says, were very unequivocal 
 in basing their ethics upon nature. "The Roman 
 jurists, when attempting to systematise jurisprudence 
 place in the front of their exposition a certain y^?/i^ 
 natiirale, * quod natura ' as Justinian declares in the 
 Institutes, 'omnia animalia docuit.' " Mr. Mill after 
 alluding to Christianity, continues: 
 
 "The people of this generation do not commonly apply prin- 
 ciples with any such studious exactness [as the ancients], nor own 
 such binding allegiance to any standard, but live in a kind of con- 
 fusion of many standards ; a condition not propitious to the for- 
 mation of steady moral convictions, but convenient enough to 
 those whose moral opinions sit lightly on them, since it gives them 
 a much wider range of arguments for defending the doctrine of the 
 moment." 
 
 This is very true. But how can we improve the 
 present state of ethics, otherwise than by being exact 
 and trying to find out the leading principle of ethics. 
 A leading principle of ethics, which may serve us as a 
 standard for the rules of action and a test for right or 
 wrong, cannot be artificially constructed. The facts 
 upon which moral aspirations have to be based, are 
 just as much facts of nature as the formation of crys- 
 tals or the growth of plants. The conditions under 
 which those facts are formed can be ascertained ; and 
 we can by observation and forethought predefine their 
 consequences. They can be described in laws that 
 are just as immutable as the laws which concern the 
 growth of plants or the health of the body. Morality 
 in all its phases and possibilities is deeply founded in 
 the nature of things, and unless morality be an unex-
 
 304 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 plainable fact in contradiction to all other facts of na- 
 ture — there is but one way of comprehending morality 
 and discovering its principle. This way is to study 
 the facts of social life, the consequences of what is 
 called immorality and the consequences of moral 
 aspiration, to analyse them, to observe them in their 
 origin and further development, to understand their 
 importance, and to formulate their operation as exact 
 natural laws. 
 
 The principle of morality cannot be contrived ; it 
 must be discovered. It cannot be devised like a work 
 of art, but has to be found out not otherwise than any 
 other natural law. Principles of art might be fashioned 
 so as to suit our imagination — not so principles of 
 morality. Artistic taste, yet even that in a certain sense 
 only, is arbitrary, but the principles of morality are 
 not arbitrary ; they are not a product of our fancy, to 
 suit special inherited or acquired inclinations, be they 
 ever so lofty, charitable, altruistic, generous, or self- 
 sacrificing. The principles of morality are to be based 
 upon rigid truths which must be ascertained by ex- 
 perience and demonstrated by the usual scientific 
 methods. 
 
 There is no choice left ; but v/e have to base ethics 
 upon nature. 
 
 II. THE ETHICS TAUGHT BY NATURE. 
 
 What can be the meaning of Mr. Mill's objection 
 to basing morality upon nature, i. e. upon the entire 
 sj'stem of things, of the universe, of v/hich we are a 
 part? I see only three possibilities: either it means 
 (i) that there is no ethics at all, or (2) that ethics is 
 imported somehow into the world from the outside, or
 
 KATURE AND MORALITY. 305 
 
 (3) that ethics is a purely subjective invention, that it 
 is an artificial product of man's fancy. 
 
 If nature were a chaos, if there were no constancy of 
 law in the universe, no regularity but only the sportive 
 arbitrariness of an irregular play of chance, no world- 
 order but a tohuvabliohu of general confusion, intelli- 
 gent as well as moral action would be impossible, for 
 no calculation of consequences would be reliable. Yet if 
 there is a world-order, conformity to it will be possible. 
 Upon the presence of law depends the intelligibility 
 of the world ; the regularity of law is the basis of ra- 
 tional action, of foresight, of responsibility, and of 
 moral action. 
 
 The view that ethics are imported into the world 
 from the outside is the theological theory of revelation. 
 It is based upon the dualistic world-conception that 
 the world and God are two distinct entities. The 
 world by itself is supposed to be a chaos, but God 
 brings order into it by penetrating the chaos. Ac- 
 cording to this view the regularity of law is not of the 
 world but of God ; it is not an intrinsic feature of ex- 
 istence, but it is imposed upon it by an extra-mundane 
 Deity. 
 
 The view that ethics is a purely subjective inven- 
 tion, that it is human to the exclusion of the not hu- 
 man in nature, we may fairly assume, is Mr. Mill's 
 view. Mr. Mill would have objected to the idea of 
 considering his view as a special case of the revelation 
 theory in ethics, but such it is none the less. What 
 is the human but a product of nature. Those forces 
 and laws which shaped man are the very same agen- 
 cies which shaped tlie rest of the things in the universe. 
 If the human be something so radically different from 
 and in essence so extraordinarily superior to the whole
 
 3o6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of nature as to justify the idea that the human can create 
 a new world-order instead of using the world-order 
 that exists by accommodating itself to it, it must con- 
 tain, at least in germ, a certain something that is not 
 of this world. Man's existence in that case must be the 
 revelation of an extra-mundane power which thus en- 
 ables him to rise above nature so as to be her superior. 
 
 Mr. Mill does not accept this view. There is no 
 doubt about it that he regards man as the product of 
 nature. His philosophical standpoint excludes the 
 possibility of revelation. Accordingly, he can only 
 mean that ethics is an artificial product of man's im- 
 agination. Man shapes his moral ideals as the musi- 
 cian composes a sonata or as the poet conceives a 
 beautiful dream. 
 
 There are men who believe that ethics cannot be 
 based upon facts, i. e. upon nature, but that it must be 
 based upon some principle. But what is the value of 
 a principle if it is not derived from facts ? Ideals are 
 mere dreams unless they are realisable, and to be re- 
 alisable they must be shaped out of the facts of expe- 
 rience. Principles are rules to attain ideals. If ideals 
 are in conflict with nature and nature's laws, what is 
 their use? If they are not based upon a solid knov/1- 
 edge of facts, they are nothing but worthless vagaries 
 of the human mind and it will be a positive waste of 
 time to ponder over them or to give them a minute's 
 serious thought. 
 
 There is only one kind of ideal that is useful and 
 worthy of man's attention. It is that ideal which aims 
 at creating a better state of things upon the ground of 
 the eternal order of things. Ideals must be based 
 upon the terra firma of natural law, otherwise they are 
 mere fancies.
 
 XATURE AND MORAUTY. 307 
 
 This world of ours in which we live is a world of 
 law, and the irrefragibility of natural law renders in- 
 telligent action possible. Intelligent action is such as 
 foresees and predetermines the course of events. Intel- 
 ligent action consists in fixing an aim and in adapting 
 means to this aim as an end. Intelligent action is the 
 condition of moral action. Intelligent action becomes 
 moral through rationalising the aim of action. Man- 
 kind in the child phase of its development obeys al- 
 most blindly its natural impulses, the general intent of 
 which has been characterised as self-preservation. 
 Self-preservation remains the ultimate aim of moral 
 action. Yet with a modification, with an amplification 
 and an increase of man's knowledge of the nature of 
 himself, the ultimate aim of his actions must be mod- 
 ified. 
 
 The question arises. Can man at all preserve his 
 self? Is not every individual doomed to die and is 
 not self-preservation for any length of time absolutely 
 impossible? Yes, it is impossible, if by ''self" we un- 
 derstand this particular body consisting of a definite 
 quantity of living matter in a special form. This par- 
 ticular self cannot be preserved for it is constantly 
 changing ; through slight modifications it becomes 
 another with every minute, with every second of its life. 
 
 Yet man's self contains a something that is pre- 
 served, that is transmitted to others. What is this 
 part of his self ? Every man has received it, or at 
 least the greatest part of it, through heredity and edu- 
 cation, from his ancestors. It is his organisation in- 
 cluding the rationality of his speech, thoughts, and ac- 
 tions — in one word it is his soul. His fellowman, too, 
 has inherited it and in so far as two or several men 
 recognise the sameness of their souls, they call each
 
 3o8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 other brothers. In preserving his fellowmen's souls 
 a man preserves his own soul. 
 
 An advanced knowledge of self necessarily changes 
 the original impulse of self-preservation into a preser- 
 vation of the soul. 
 
 Man, as a particular individual being mortal, can 
 preserve his soul only in and through others. The 
 nature of man's being is social and his life is ephem- 
 eral. Thus self-knowledge will teach him that he is 
 a part of a greater whole ; the most important elements 
 of his soul originate out of his intercourse with his 
 fellow-beings ; the essence of his life, of his speech, 
 his thoughts, his aspirations and ideals, lies in his con- 
 nections with them. At the same time he must learn 
 that his particular life is only a phase in the fuller life 
 of the soul which has come to iiim out of the past 
 animating him now and sweeping onward into the dim 
 future. Man's real self is not the materiality of which 
 his body consists at a given moment, but his soul. 
 The former cannot be preserved, the latter can. Any 
 attempt at preserving the former is thv/arted by na- 
 ture. If we attempt to preserve an5'thing of ourselves, 
 we can preserve only our soul. No other choice is left. 
 
 There is one strange fact about self-preservation. 
 This world of ours is never at rest, there is no stand- 
 still. Any attempt at preserving life exactly as it is 
 leads to dissolution. Preservation is only possible in 
 growth ; the preservation of life must be for its further 
 development, it must include progress. 
 
 Such is in broad outlines the injunction that nature 
 teaches. Such is an ethics based upon the facts of 
 life, it is the derivation of an ultimate aim of action 
 from nature, i. e. from the nature of the being that 
 acts and also from the nature of the world in which this
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 309 
 
 being lives. When we thus base our ethics upon the 
 facts of experience and the natural laws that have 
 been derived therefrom ; in one word, when we base 
 our ethics upon nature, we define those actions as 
 moral which tend to preserve and further develop the 
 human soul. 
 
 III. INTELLIGENT ACTION AND MORAL ACTION. 
 
 Mr. Mill says, " to make use of knowledge for guid- 
 ance is a rule of prudence." But it is more ; it is also 
 a rule of ethics. 
 
 What is the difference between a prudent action 
 and an ethical action ? A prudent action may have 
 been performed from a selfish motive merely ; an eth- 
 ical action is performed from a motive broader than 
 self-interest, from a desire to be somehow of service 
 to the development of humanity. Prudence is not 
 morality ; but prudence vv'ill lead to morality, for a'l 
 immorality will defeat itself in the end. Thus prudence 
 teaches us to avoid immorality. 
 
 Not every intelligent action is moral ; but every 
 moral action is intelligent ; and it is an indispensable 
 principle of morality to render all actions intelligent. 
 Yet while all moral actions are intelligent, the intelli- 
 gence or rationality of an action does not as yet make 
 it moral. 
 
 A man may act in the right way against his in- 
 clinations from mere prudence. He may act in a cer- 
 tain way not because he wants to do the act, but be- 
 cause he knows that it is after all the best way ; he 
 thus acts against his will ; he acts under a certain com- 
 pulsion. His act in such a case may be called mere 
 prudence. However as soon as the desire to act in the 
 best way or to act as he knows that he should act, be-
 
 3IO THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 comes part of his character, as soon as he performs the 
 act done in the right way, because he wills it, his ac- 
 tion is truly ethical. 
 
 All our actions — even those performed for our pri- 
 vate interest, which are perfectly legitimate — should 
 be guided by higher motives than by the impulse of 
 a selfish self-preservation; all our proceedings, our 
 omissions and our undertakings should be regulated by 
 superindividual considerations ; they should be in strict 
 harmony with what may fitly be called the moral law. 
 
 The moral law has been taught us by our parents 
 and teachers. We may accept their instruction simply 
 on the ground of their authority, but we have a perfect 
 right to ask, Why must v/e obey moral commands ? 
 And the answer would be : Because the natural course 
 of events demands it. Nature defeats all egoistic in- 
 tentions ; and it sanctions the superindividual aspira- 
 tions only — those which are commonly called moral 
 principles. 
 
 There is no right in this world but it is the coun- 
 terpart of duty. We have a right to ask why egotism 
 should be overruled by higher principles. What is the 
 duty that corresponds to this right ? This duty is our 
 obligation to inquire into the conditions of human life, 
 so as to ascertain the principles by which our actions 
 must be regulated. We must not rest satisfied with 
 our moral sentiments ; we must understand our senti- 
 ments, that we may be assured not by mystic intuition 
 but by clear comprehension, that they are truly moral. 
 We must be on our guard against ethical enthusiasm 
 which is not based upon a clear comprehension of facts ; 
 for there are many noble sentiments which, as can be 
 demonstrated by scientific investigation, are anything 
 but morality. For instance, eleemosynary philan-
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 311 
 
 thropy, has been highly praised as the acme of moral- 
 ity ; and yet, scientific investigation has stated with 
 irrefutable conclusiveness that it is a wrong practice. 
 All enthusiasm that has been wasted in this direction, 
 can be called moral only if motives alone be considered. 
 Objectively, they are as immoral as any criminal act 
 committed under the influence of an erring conscience. 
 
 IV. THE ANTHROPOMORPHIC STANDPOINT OF MR. MILL, 
 
 Mr. Mill in opposing the conclusions drawn from 
 an anthropomorphic conception of nature, impercept- 
 ibly slips into the same erroneous position. He treats 
 nature as if it were a person and arraigns nature for 
 immorality. He looks upon every progress as a fur- 
 ther aberration from nature and speaks of the lower 
 stages of savage life as " the times when mankind were 
 nearer to their natural state." Thus he easily proves 
 that nature is chaos and that civilisation is a conquest 
 of man over nature. As if man were not a part of na- 
 ture ! "To dig, to plough, to build, to wear clothes," 
 Mr. Mill declares, "are direct infringements of the 
 injunctions to follow nature." 
 
 If we accepted Mr. Mill's usage of the word nature, 
 which deliberately excludes man's exertions from the 
 sphere of the natural, we should have to declare that 
 man's entire being is " supernatural." The adversaries 
 of Mr. Mill may very well thank him for his method 
 of attack, for he furnishes evidence in support of the 
 very conception he so eagerly attempts to overthrow. 
 It is, of course, allowable to use the concept nature in 
 this restricted sense, as Mr. Mill does. We may de- 
 fine our words as we please ; but if we were to limit 
 the word nature always to the lower stages of natural 
 evolution, we should recognise the truth that the "su-
 
 312 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 pernatural" naturally grows from the natural. The 
 supernatural has been regarded as having come into 
 nature from spheres beyond by some extra-mundane 
 intercession ; and we discard the idea of supernatural- 
 ism simply and solely in order to avoid this miscon- 
 ception. If by "supernatural" is understood that 
 higher kind of nature which evolves from the lower 
 stages of nature, we shall entertain no objection to the 
 word. 
 
 Nature is not a person and natural laws are not the 
 decrees of a personal being. The order of nature is 
 not a scheme designed for an end. Nevertheless nature 
 has an aim. Every process of nature has an aim, 
 every motion has a certain direction and if all the nat- 
 ural processes are viewed as a whole, they possess in 
 their entirety also an aim. Our scientists have form- 
 ulated the general aim of nature and call it evolution. 
 If we look upon nature as a person, we are led to ab- 
 surdities, but if we look upon nature not onl}' as pur- 
 poseless but also as aimless, we sink into a bottomless 
 pit of errors and confusion. 
 
 Nature being no person, w^e cannot speak of nature 
 as being moral or imm.oral. Nature is non-moral. 
 Persons alone, individual beings, can be moral or im- 
 moral ; and morality is nothing but the intentional con- 
 formit}' to nature and to the order of nature. 
 
 It has been said that God is moral. There is no 
 sense in speaking of God as moral— unless it be in 
 popular language v/here the usage of the phrase is to 
 be regarded as an excusable and allowable poetic li- 
 cense (within certain limits even quite legitimate). 
 God can only be called the standard of morality. God 
 is non-moral ; man only, if he conforms to the v/ill of 
 God, can be said to be moral.
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 313 
 
 Mr. Mill in arraigning nature for being beset with 
 all kinds of vices, disorder, uncleanliness, and cowar- 
 dice, is very emphatic in denouncing her injustice. 
 
 He says : 
 
 "It is one of Nature's general rules, and part of her habitual 
 injustice, that ' to him that hath shall be given, but from him that 
 hath not, shall be taken even that v/hich he hath.' The ordinary 
 and predominant tendency of good is towards more good. Health, 
 strength, wealth, knowledge, virtue, are not only good in them- 
 selves but facilitate and promote the acquisition of good, both of 
 the same and of other kinds. The person who can learn easily, 
 is he who already knows much : it is the strong and not the sickly 
 person who can do everything which most conduces to health ; 
 those who find it easy to gain money are not the poor but the 
 rich ; while health, strength, knowledge, talents, are all means of 
 acquiring riches, and riches are often an indispensable means of 
 acquiring these. Again, e converso, whatever may be said of evil 
 turning into good, the general tendency of evil is towards further 
 evil. Bodily illness renders the body more susceptible of disease ; 
 it produces incapacity of exertion, sometimes debility of mind, 
 and often the loss of means of subsistence. All severe pain, either 
 bodily or mental, tends to increase the susceptibilities of pain for 
 ever after. Poverty is the parent of a thousand mental and moral 
 evils. What is still worse, to be injured or oppressed, when ha- 
 bitual, lowers the whole tone of the character. One bad action 
 leads to others, both in the agent himself, in the bystanders, and 
 in the sufferers. All bad qualities are strengthened by habit, and 
 all vices and follies tend to spread. Intellectual defects generate 
 moral, and moral, intellectual ; and every intellectual or moral 
 defect generates others and so on without end." 
 
 It is certainly true that "to him that hath shall be 
 given, but from him that hath not, shall be taken 
 even that which he hath;" but it is perfectly useless to 
 complain about it. It is neither justice nor injustice, 
 but it is a law of nature or if you prefer the expression, 
 it is the will of God ; and wc have to mind it. 
 
 To speak of the injustice of nature is just as an- 
 thropomorphic as to speak of the morality of God.
 
 314 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 INIill's mistake is that he argues from an antiquated 
 theological standpoint which is, even among theolo- 
 gians, not at all the universally accepted view. 
 
 Morality may be described as our attempts to im- 
 prove the given state of nature, but it certainly can 
 never improve the order of nature. All the improve- 
 ments we can make upon the given state of nature, 
 have to be based upon the unalterable order of nature, 
 and he who attempts to formulate any rules of action, 
 be it in the department of industrial enterprises, in 
 social and political reform, or in the realm of moral 
 aspirations, will have to do it after a careful study of 
 facts. The irrefragable laws of nature form the im- 
 movable basis upon which we have to take our stand. 
 Whatever action we undertake, before we plan or de- 
 vise, we must take heed of the laws to which we have 
 to conform. The laws of nature and among them the 
 moral laws, are not flexible, they are stern and im- 
 mutable. If we cannot understand the nature of things 
 in scientific abstractness, and if (in order to under- 
 stand the earnest necessity that the moral law must be 
 obeyed) we represent the order of nature as a personal 
 being, it will be well to remember the parable of Christ 
 in which he compares God to a hard man, reaping 
 where he has not sown and gathering where he has 
 not strewed. If we have received one talent only, 
 there is but one way to keep that one talent ; we must 
 go and trade with the same and make with it another 
 talent. But if the very knowledge that we have to 
 deal with a hard man, induces us to be afraid, so as to 
 go and hide that one talent in the earth, then, that one 
 talent will be taken from us. 
 
 The parable of the talents is very instructive. Its 
 doctrine seems severe on the poor, especially those
 
 NATURE AND MORALITY. 315 
 
 who are poor in spirit ; but it is just as much severe 
 on the rich. Christ spoke to the poor and his applica- 
 tion was made so as to impress their minds, that he 
 who has received little is no less responsible for that 
 little, than he who has received much for the much he 
 has received. "For unto whomsoever much is given, 
 of him shall be much required, and to whom men have 
 committed much, of him they will ask the more." If 
 Christ had spoken to the rich, the learned, and the 
 great, he might have made a different application of 
 the parable and might have told them of the servant 
 who having received five talents had not only buried 
 but wasted the rich gift. There are perhaps more men 
 ruined through having received too much than by 
 having received too little. The temptations are greater 
 in the former case, and the dire necessity of the latter 
 case often exercises a wholesome and educating in- 
 fluence. 
 
 If justice means that every servant, whether he in- 
 creases the talents he has received or buries them in 
 the earth, should in the end receive an equal share, 
 Mr. Mill would be justified in denouncing the course 
 of nature as unjust. But it appears to me advisable 
 that any one who thus indicts the very order of nature 
 for injustice, imagining that the whole universe is 
 wrong and he alone and perhaps also a few fellow be- 
 ings of his with him are right, should first revise the 
 logic of his conception of justice ; for it is in such a 
 case most probable that on close scrutiny he will 
 somewhere discover a flaw in his idea of justice. 
 
 Mr. Mill's objection to basing ethics upon nature 
 was made to oppose a theological conception of ethics. 
 Our traditional religions, we must know, are in their
 
 3i6 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 intentions monistic, they are dualistic only if the al- 
 legory of their symbols is taken as literal truth. In 
 opposing the theology of traditional religions Mr. 
 Mill attacked erroneously their very heart, the monistic 
 meaning of their doctrines instead of striking at the 
 dualistic interpretation of their mythology. Thus if 
 Mr. Mill were right in his objection to basing ethics 
 upon nature — i. e. upon the unalterable, the eternal 
 in nature, upon the law of nature or to use the relig- 
 ious and most pregnant term, upon God — if Mr. Mill 
 were right, there would be two alternatives left : Either 
 there is no ethics at all, which view Mr. Mill would 
 not accept, or the dualistic interpretation of theology 
 is correct, that ethics is an extramundane factor. 
 
 When ethics and the conditions of ethical ideals 
 are found and can be proved to be an immanent part 
 of nature, the dualistic interpretation of the old re- 
 ligions will have to be surrendered while their monis- 
 tic meaning which is after all the core and living spirit 
 of all religious aspirations will appear in a stronger 
 light than ever.
 
 AN AMERICAN MORALIST. 
 
 BY PROF. L. M. BILLIA. 
 
 Dr. Paul Carus, one of the editors of The Monist 
 ard The Open Court — periodicals which rank among 
 the most important of the socio-philosophical reviews 
 of the United States of America — proposes, in three 
 lectures upon the " Ethical Problem," the adoption of 
 a course v/hich might be considered as a compromise 
 between the utilitarian and the objective-moral, or, as 
 he terms it, the "intuitionalist" school. He meets 
 the utilitarian principle at the outset by the following 
 declaration : 
 
 "We may say that the pursuit of happiness is a natural right 
 of man, but we cannot derive the moral " ought " from the pursuit 
 of happiness. And the mere pursuit of happiness is not sufficient to 
 make a complete and worthy human life. On the contrary, the 
 mere pursuit of happiness wherever it prevails unchecked in the 
 soul of man is a most dangerous tendency, which unfits man for 
 business as well as for family life, and above all for ideal aspira- 
 tions. What is the reason that trustworthy persons, competent 
 workers, dutiful men and women are so rare ? It is simply be- 
 cause most people are too eager in their pursuit of happiness. 
 
 " The pursuit of happiness is not wrong. Enjoyment is not a 
 sn, and recreation is not improper. Yet it is wrong to make hap- 
 piness the sole aim of existence. We cannot live without enjoy- 
 
 * Translated from the Italian. The article appeared first in // Ntiovo Ri- 
 sorgii/tento Rivisia di Filosofui, Scienze, Lettere, Educazione e Studi Sociali 
 (Milan), a Roman Catholic magazine, and was republished in pamphlet form.
 
 3i8 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 ment ; enjoyment keeps our minds healthy and buoyant ; yet en- 
 joyment is not the purpose of life. Recreation is the rest we take 
 after our work is done. We do not work in order to have recrea- 
 tion ; but we seek recreation in order to do more work. 
 
 "If the pursuit of happiness is not sufficient to make man's 
 life complete and worthy, what then is needed to make it so ? We 
 all know what is needed : it is ethics. Then let us have ethics — 
 not mere theories about pleasurable sensations, but true ethics — 
 ethics that are nobler than the m.ere pursuit of pleasure." 
 
 If these lofty conceptions do not suffice to gain our 
 sympathies for him, the author acquires a new claim 
 on us by virtue of the following declaration : 
 
 ' ' I shall be glad to learn from my critics ; and wherever any 
 one will convince me of an error, he will find me ready to change 
 my opinion and to accept the truth whatever it be." 
 
 Both from a scientific and a practical point of view, 
 I find his disagreement with those who would promote 
 the elevation of moral life without regard to philo- 
 sophical or religious opinions, or without fundamental 
 principles, a very serious matter. 
 
 Dr. Carus's book had its origin in a controversy 
 between the author and the "Society of Ethical Cul- 
 ture," represented by The Ethical Record, of Philadel- 
 phia. Although we cannot agree with him in his posi- 
 tion that supernatural revelation is an impossibility, 
 we, nevertheless, approve of his conception of the 
 necessity of a philosophico-scientific basis of ethics — a 
 necessity which, in our opinion, is a logical objective 
 exigency of speculative thought, and, socially, a sub- 
 jective exigency of our time and of modern education. 
 This view is, in our opinion, fully in accord with An- 
 tonio Rosmini's "Philosophy of Ethics" and "Phi- 
 losophy of Right {Dirittd):' 
 
 The author, possessed of a happier memory than
 
 AN AMERICAN MORALIST. 319 
 
 ours, very well recollects the time when man was an 
 animal, living in herds with others of his kind ; and 
 he knows also, that at that early day higher ethics had 
 received but little development. But, as little by lit- 
 ile a higher ethics grew, society emerged from bar- 
 barism into the light of civilisation. And here criti- 
 cism grows somewhat laborious ; for, notwithstanding 
 his earnest profession of scientific research, the author's 
 method of procedure is that of the statement of aphor- 
 isms and definitions, each of which we should be jus- 
 tified in calling in doubt. In fact, it is these very 
 aphorisms and definitions from which he proceeds, 
 that should, first of all, have been submittted to crit- 
 cal examination — even from a historical standpoint — 
 if the author really wished to give ethics a scientific 
 basis. In agreement with Comte's conceptions of the 
 three natural stages of development, he declares that 
 the question, whether ethics is a science and can be 
 founded upon a scientific basis, is the same as that of 
 the reconciliation of religion and science, or of the de- 
 velopment of religion from infancy to its state of ma- 
 turity, from dualism to monism, from the mysticism 
 of a vague supernaturalistic speculation to the light of 
 positive certainty, from an authoritative and credulous 
 faith to the faith of scientific knowledge. 
 
 However correct and honest the intentions of the 
 author may be, we consider as truly deplorable his 
 arbitrary conception of religion, which, in his presup- 
 position undiscussed, and, for him, admitting of no 
 discussion, is nothing but a human fact, while to us 
 the elevation of man to the Absolute is itself a work 
 of God. If the author's supposition were true, his 
 course would have to be approved of, although the 
 difficulty would remain, whether a scientific religion
 
 320 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 could be understood by the multitude, who might 
 know it generally, but not scientifically. 
 
 Nor are we less surprised at the author's confound- 
 ing the ideas "vague," ''supernatural," and "fan- 
 tastic"; the fantastic, the ideal, and the supernatural 
 being three orders much at variance with facts. Alto- 
 gether, Dr. Carus's point of departure differs in noth- 
 ing from that of Comte. 
 
 And thus, when he comes to establish the "basis" 
 of ethics — always in aphoristic form — he states the 
 hypothesis, that knowledge is a representation of 
 facts— a definition of which our readers know, beyond 
 doubt, is disputable. 
 
 It is true, the author attempts to found ethics upon 
 reason, upon the immutable and necessary order of 
 things, and he deserves praise for thus having elevated 
 himself above the level of the utilitarian ; but, in de- 
 fault of tradition and through excessive fear of the 
 supernatural and mystical, he falls into the error of a 
 material monism and fails, at the same time, to give 
 his doctrine a foundation. 
 
 However, the author is worthy and capable of 
 something better, as may be seen in his beautiful ob- 
 servation in censure of the ferocious and pharisaical 
 theory, v/hich pretends to derive all moral sentiment 
 from egotism. Here he is entirely in accord with the 
 Italian school, and I doubt if the remarks he makes 
 could be improved upon. 
 
 Only it is deplorable that, owing to his disregard- 
 ing a great part of ancient and modern philosophic 
 speculation, he should not be able, while face to face 
 with the utilitarians, to perceive others than the ranks 
 of those whom he terms intuitionalists, wrongfully 
 accusing them of ignoring and of refusing to demon-
 
 AJV AMERICAN MORALIST. 321 
 
 strate, by natural and scientific methods, the reasons 
 or motives underlying morality, of making duty a 
 mystery, etc., etc. All this we naturally read with 
 something akin to ill-will here, in the home of the 
 philosophy of right {dirittd) \ in fact, in Europe gen- 
 erally, where for so many centuries the supreme mo- 
 tives of the good have been scientifically investigated. 
 He likewise touches upon the problem of freewill 
 and believes to have found its solution, but does not 
 seem to be well aware of the main difficulty, which 
 consists in this, that, on the one hand, the fact of free- 
 will is attested by the consciousness ; on the other 
 hand, that will without motive is an absurdity. Cer- 
 tainly. But, with the usual defect of Anglo-Ameri- 
 cans — the tendency to vaporings, as in the McKinley 
 bill, so in philosophical speculation, — the work of cen- 
 turies, — he falls into a tv/ofold error: historical and 
 philosophical. His classification of those who have 
 entered into an investigation of this problem into theo- 
 logians, who hold freewill a will without motive and 
 an inscrutable mystery, and freethinkers, so called, 
 who place it among illusions, is much too superficial. 
 Assuredly, these two views are both false ; but, if our 
 author had kept accurate account of philosophical tra- 
 dition, and above all, if he had paid closer attention 
 to Italian philosophy, and to that of Rosmini in par- 
 ticular, he would have observed that the difficulty has 
 been by many not only recognised, but also sur- 
 mounted. 
 
 In fact, the doctrine of practical judgment, in our 
 opinion, while, on the one hand, it justifies the exist- 
 ence of freedom of choice, is not satisfied with merely 
 affirming it, but demonstrates the operation by a keen 
 analysis ; and, on the other hand, confutes in the best
 
 322 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 possible manner determinism, physiological, as well 
 as psychological and rationalistic. And what is this 
 "best possible manner"? That of conceding, or 
 rather, of comprehending whatever truth there may be 
 in those views, in order the better to avoid the fallacies 
 they may contain. An act not determined by a rea- 
 son is an absurdity. Decidedly. But a free will con- 
 sists precisely in the ability to determine, in the abil- 
 ity to make real a given reason, a given impulse, a 
 given sentiment. How is freewill reconcilable with 
 the evident subjection of our acts to the status of the 
 nervous system, the status of health or disease, ad- 
 ventitious or constitutional, individual or hereditary? 
 Free choice is an act of reflection, or rather, one of 
 the higher acts of reflection. Now, reflection requires 
 a certain status of order and calmness in our functions, 
 which, for instance, does not exist, at least not with- 
 out great expenditure of force, in fever, hysterics, ex- 
 cessive pain, extraordinary somnolence, or any ardent 
 superexcitation. But it is none the less true that these 
 same conditions, favorable or unfavorable as they may 
 be to reflection, and to the exercise of free choice, have 
 for the most part their origin in liberty of choice itself, 
 as in disease which has been neglected or aggravated, 
 or criminally transmitted to descendants, or in cases 
 of exaltation not restrained at the outset, or to assume 
 a less ignoble case, in any excessive lassitude or strain, 
 whether of muscle or brain, consequent upon hard 
 labor. 
 
 At times Dr. Carus recognises the difficulty, but 
 then again, following the imperfect theory of some 
 German moralists, he confounds liberty of will with 
 freedom from passion, and ends by admitting liberty 
 solely in connection with the Good. Now, it is very
 
 AN AMERICAN MORALIST. 323 
 
 true that liberty makes for the Good. It is very true 
 that he who does good is freer than he who works 
 evil ; that the practice of virtue not only educates and 
 refines sentiment, but also strengthens freedom of will, 
 just as, on the other hand, yielding to certain vices 
 weakens, and, in the end, almost entirely nullifies it. 
 But it is none the less true that liberty presents itself 
 in connection with the Evil as well as in connection 
 with the Good. So true is this that, before entering 
 on the examination of certain crimes, men often sus- 
 tain fierce struggles with themselves in the endeavor 
 to silence the voice of nature, of conscience, of blood ; 
 as may especially be noticed in criminal cases of a 
 political nature, and in all those which are executed with 
 open predetermination and which are designed to some 
 end of vast importance. Nor is it the case that those 
 who have preceded Dr. Carus have not well distin- 
 guished between necessity and compulsion — a very old 
 and well-known distinction. On the contrary, he him- 
 self does not well distinguish libertas a coactiojie from 
 Ubertas a necessitate, in which freedom of choice pre- 
 cisely consists. Libertas a necessitate, we repeat, does 
 not in itself denote absence of reason, but determines 
 to itself the preponderant reason. 
 
 We must say, however, by way of caiiserie, as the 
 French would put it, that we have been better enter- 
 tained than we at first expected to be, by this work 
 of the author of "Meliorism."* We find two good 
 reasons for not being displeased with it. 
 
 The first is the author's innate goodness and lofti- 
 ness of spirit, which constantly reveals itself in his 
 combating egotism, in his lifting up his readers out 
 
 * This is the title of anotlier of the author's works, and, in fact, the one 
 which he applies to liis system.
 
 324 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of the slough of " Spencerianism," and in the fact 
 that he reposes the supreme ethical law in truth. Al- 
 though rejecting his doctrine of representation,* we 
 cannot but congratulate Dr. Carus on his happy dec- 
 laration : that ethics should recognise as its principal 
 basis the search for truth and adaptation thereto ; 
 that an honest inquiry into truth is the condition of 
 ail ethics, and that faithfulness and obedience to truth 
 includes all the laws that a system of ethics could 
 contain. 
 
 * For the convenience of our readers, especially the young and strangers, 
 we may repeat the reasons upon which we reject the theory of representation: 
 That which is known is the truth ; that which is known is the idea. Idea and 
 truth are entirely wholly one, and are wholly one also with the object thought 
 of. If, instead of saying that the idea is the object thought of, we say that the 
 idea is, through sense-reminiscence, a representation of the object, it would 
 come to pass that we could never think of any object, but always of its repre- 
 sentation; therefore, I could not think: on^c, two, three — the thought itself 
 would be impossible. Moreover, the representation could not be thought, if 
 not by means of a certain resemblance or similitude with the object thought 
 of ; this similitude is what is actually thought : it is a common element ; it is 
 the unity of the representation and that which is represented. Idea in this 
 sense is the representation of many things similar to each other, but this is 
 not its definition. (See Rosmini, Psychology, vol. II, p. 1339.)
 
 ROSMINI'S PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 BY DR. PAUL CARUS. 
 
 Prof. L. M. Billia is a Roman Catholic and a dis- 
 ciple of Antonio Rosmini-Serbati. There is a deep- 
 seated and radical difference between our view and 
 that of our critic, and yet there is also in some points 
 of great consequence a striking agreement. As there 
 is no hope of a conversion on either side, we may for- 
 bear arguing the case and be satisfied with a simple 
 statement, which will contrast the two world-concep- 
 tions. But before entering into a discussion of the 
 present subject, it seems advisable to sketch the phi- 
 losophy of Professor Billia's great master, who may 
 fairly be regarded as the most representative Roman 
 Catholic thinker of modern times. 
 
 Rosmini was born in March, 1797, in Roveredo, 
 Tyrol, the eldest son of a wealthy and noble family. 
 He attended the Lyceum atTrient and the University 
 of Padua, and selected in 1821 the ecclesiastical call- 
 ing with the avowed purpose of giving to theology a 
 sound philosophical basis. In his love of the church 
 and eagerness for reform, he became the founder of a 
 new religious order, the Society of the Brothers and 
 Sisters of Charity, popularly called in Italy " The Ros- 
 minians." He joined Piedmont in 1830 and Pope Pius 
 IX. in 1848, under v/hose reform-ministry he became
 
 326 THE ETIirCAL PROBLEM. 
 
 the papal minister of education. At the outbreak of 
 the Roman revolution, he retired from public life and 
 died July ist, 1855 at Stresa. 
 
 In spite of all his devotion not only to the church 
 but also to the Pope personally, whom he followed 
 into his exile at Gaeta, one of his writings "On the 
 Five Wounds of the Church " has been placed upon 
 the Index, 
 
 Rosmini's numerous, and partly very ponderous, 
 writings are little accessible to the English speaking 
 world. His works were collected (according to Meyer's 
 Konversations-Lexikon) in seventeen volumes (Milan, 
 1842-44), and he wrote, according to Davidson, not 
 fewer than ninety-nine various publications, books, 
 and among them very voluminous books, articles and 
 pamphlets, on philosophical, theological, ethical, legal, 
 and miscellaneous subjects. Among them are claimed 
 to be the most important ones, "NuovosaggiosuU'ori- 
 gine delleidee," 3 vol.; and <' Philosophia del diritto." 
 The best known Italian works on his life are by Tho- 
 maseo (Turin, 1855) and Bernardi (Pinerolo, i860). 
 
 There is a translation extant of Rosmini's ''Nouvo 
 saggio suir origine delle idee," entitled "New Essay 
 on the Origin of Ideas" (London, 1883-84), published 
 by the English branch of the Rosminians which is at- 
 tached to the ancient church of St. Etheldreda, Ely 
 Place, Holborn. The most convenient work for Eng- 
 lish readers will be Davidson's book "Rosmini's Phil- 
 osophical System" (London, 1882). 
 
 In order to overcome doubt and unbelief Rosmini 
 attempted to establish a rational basis of the Christian 
 faith, thus to work out a conciliation of reason and re- 
 ligion. He opposed the sensualism and empiricism as 
 represented in Italy by Gioja and Ramagnosi, and pro-
 
 JiOSMLVrS PHILOSOPHY. 327 
 
 pounded a philosophical system which in accord with 
 Descartcs's idealism was expected to be in agreement 
 with the doctrines of the church. 
 
 The Encyclopaedia Britannica characterises Ros- 
 mini's philosophy as follows : 
 
 " Rosmini, contemplating the position of recent philosophy 
 from Locke to Hegel, and having his eye directed to the ancient 
 and fundamental problem of the origin, truth, and certainty of our 
 ideas, wrote : — ' If philosophy is to be restored to love and respect, 
 I think it will be necessary, in part, to return to the teachings of 
 the ancients, and in part to give those teachings the benefit of 
 modern methods' {'Theodicy,' n. 148). Pursuing, therefore, the 
 now generally approved m' thod of the observation of facts, he most 
 carefully examined and analysed the fact of human knowledge, and 
 obtained the following results : 
 
 " i) That the notion or idea of being or existence in general 
 enters into, and is presupposed by, all our acquired cognitions, so 
 that, without it, they would be impossible. 
 
 ' 2) That this idea is essentially objective, inasmuch as what 
 is seen in it is as distinct from and opposed to the mind that sees 
 it as the light is from the eye that looks at it. 
 
 "3) That it is essentially true, because 'being' and 'truth' 
 are convertible terms, and because in the vision of it the mind 
 cannot err, since error could only be committed by a judgment, 
 and here there is no judgment, but a pure intuition afi&rming noth- 
 ing and denying nothing. 
 
 "4) That by the application of this essentially objective and 
 true idea the human being intellectually perceives, first, the animal 
 body individually conjoined with him, and then, on occasion of 
 the sensations produced in him not by himself, the causes of those 
 sensations, that is, from the action felt he perceives and aflirms an 
 agent, a being, and therefore a true thing, that acts on him, and 
 he thus gets at the external world, — these are the true primitive 
 judgments, containing («) the subsistence of the particular being 
 (subject), and (/') its essence or species as determined by the qual- 
 ity of the action felt from it (predicate). 
 
 " 5) That reflexion, by separating the essence or species from 
 the subsistence, obtains the full specific idea (universalisation),
 
 328 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 and then from this, by leaving aside some of its elements, the ab- 
 stract specific idea (abstraction). 
 
 " 6) That the mind, having reached this stage of development, 
 can proceed to further and further abstracts, including the first 
 principles of reasoning, the principles of the several sciences, com- 
 plex ideas, groups of ideas, and so en without end. 
 
 "7) Finally, that the same most universal idea of being, this 
 generator and formal element of all acquired cognitions, cannot 
 itself be acquired, but must be innate in us, implanted by God in 
 our nature. Being, as naturally shining to our mind, must there- 
 fore be what men call the light of reason. Hence the name Ros- 
 mini gives it of ideal being ; and this he laid down as the one true 
 fundamental principle of all philosophy, and the supreme criterion 
 of truth and certainty." 
 
 We are in sympathy with the aspiration represented 
 by Rosmini, of rationalising the Christian faith. We 
 do not believe that Rosmini was successful in his ef- 
 forts ; indeed, we think that he could not be, because 
 he took a wrong start and was blinded by the firm and 
 fore-determined conviction that the Christianity of the 
 church was undeniable and indubitable truth. Never- 
 theless, we regard the effort of any man of conciliating 
 his religion with science and rational thought as praise- 
 worthy, and we go so far as to say that the gist of Chris- 
 tianity, i. e. the main tenets of Christian ethics, admit 
 indeed of a perfectly rational foundation. We deny, 
 however, the possibility of rationalising the dogmas of 
 the church. We see in them only the crystallised myth- 
 ology of past ages, which, when regarded as a myth- 
 ology, is profound, venerable, full of oddly and mys- 
 teriously expressed truths, but when regarded as truth 
 itself, are utterly absurd. 
 
 We agree with Professor Billia in substance while 
 we disagree in form. We agree in rejecting hedon- 
 ism, or the pleasure theory in ethics, and we agree in 
 accepting the ethics of a stern search for truth. Neither
 
 ROSMINI'S PHILOSOPHY. 320 
 
 of us can think of speaking of ethics as independent of 
 a definite world conception. Both of us regard moral- 
 ity simply as the practical application of our deepest 
 religious convictions concerning that which we have 
 found to be the truth. Yet we disagree as to the form 
 in which we cast our convictions. Rosmini and his 
 school favor mystical expressions and extol the tradi- 
 tion of the church in comparison to the results of mod- 
 ern science. We, on the contrary, do not rest satisfied 
 until the mysteries disappear like fog before the sun ; 
 and while we place little reliance upon ecclesiastical 
 traditions, we rely mainly upon that which God's rev- 
 elation in nature teaches us through science. 
 
 Thus my Roman Catholic critic who enjoys the ad- 
 vantage of living in the cradle of an ancient civilisa- 
 tion and the very home of the " Filosophia del diritto" 
 jokes at my ingenuousness of accepting the theory of 
 evolution. He does not attempt to overthrow the 
 theory of evolution, and does not seem to expect me 
 to take the trouble of proving it to him. I hope, he 
 will not be offended v/hen I openly confess that the 
 smile was fully reciprocated on my part. It is not ig- 
 norance of the philosophical and ecclesiastical tradi- 
 tions, nor a horror of the supernatural that prevent me 
 from accepting an ecclesiastical philosophy as is that 
 of Rosmini's. Yet Professor Billia, it appears to me, 
 does not appreciate the full weight of overwhelming 
 proofs which give evidence to the truth of the theory 
 of evolution. 
 
 Professor Billia, so it seems to us, still regards re- 
 ligious truths (i. e., the moral tenets which confessedly 
 contain the gist of religion) as incompatible with the 
 results of modern science. This may be excusable in 
 the face of the fact that almost all modern ethicists
 
 330 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 who accept the theory of evolution, Spencer, HoS- 
 ding, Gizycki, etc., are hedonists. We trust that the 
 theory of evolution, far from overthrowing the moral 
 truths of religion will give them a scientific and relia- 
 ble basis. If evolution is true, we must live in obe- 
 dience to the law of evolution. In that case, we can- 
 not fashion our lives according to our pleasure, for the 
 facts of nature sternly demand, by penalty of degenera- 
 tion and perdition, a constant progress and higher de- 
 velopment of our souls. Here we are in accord with 
 the old Hebrew and Christian tradition. Ethics is not 
 subjective ; our rules of conduct are not self-made ; 
 there is an objective authority which must be obeyed, 
 whose will is plainly recognised in the laws of nature 
 and in the course of evolution. 
 
 We have no "fear of the supernatural"; we simply 
 regard its conception as an error. To Professor Billia 
 religious truths are acquired by a supernictural revela- 
 tion, and scientific truths b}^ a natural revelation. The 
 former only are regarded as holy and infallible, not 
 the latter, which are rather dubitable and unreliable. 
 To us ail truth is holy. In so far as truth is a state- 
 ment of fact, a description of some feature or part of 
 the objective reality in which and of which we are, 
 truth is always divine. Thus religion, or our attempt 
 of living the truth, no less than science, or our search 
 for the truth, are in one respect ''human facts" and 
 in another respect "a work of God." 
 
 The main difference between our Catholic critic 
 and ourselves consists in this: that be regards the 
 traditional authority of the Church as ultimate, while 
 we replace it by the authority of objective truth, prov- 
 able according to the usual methods of science. 
 
 We do not intend to enter into a discussion of mi-
 
 ROSMINrS PHILOSOPHY. 331 
 
 nor points ; so we abstain here from repeating our doc- 
 trine of freewill, simply stating that we do not feel guilty, 
 as Professor Billia maintains, of having confounded 
 "liberty of will with freedom from passion"; on the 
 other hand, we do not see how the Italian school can 
 boast of having solved the problem, while claiming to 
 have confuted "in the best possible manner determin- 
 ism, physiological, psychological, and rationalistic." 
 We further abstain from discussing whether or not and 
 how far there is an agreement of our position with Au- 
 guste Comte's positivism. We concur with Comte in 
 the recognition of the scientific method ; we depart 
 from his agnosticism and many details of his philo- 
 sophical views ; and, finally, we only hint here that 
 when the author of "The Ethical Problem " spoke of 
 the " intuitionalists," he did not have reference to the 
 " Objective school" of Rosmini. Intuitionalism is a 
 peculiarly English phenomenon, which can only in one 
 point, indeed, in the main point, be compared to Ros- 
 mini's view, viz.: in its strange tenet of the intuitive 
 apprehension of truth. This latter point, however, is 
 of sufficient consequence to deserve a few additional 
 remarks. 
 
 Professor Billia regards it as a matter of course 
 that "the doctrine of representation" is wrong. By 
 doctrine of representation he understands our proposi- 
 tion that knowledge is a representation of facts and that 
 truth is a correct representation of facts. According to 
 his view "idea and truth are wholly one, and are wholly 
 one with the object thought of." This sentence, if I 
 understand this rather mystifying explanation cor- 
 rectly, means, that ideas are directly perceived in the 
 same way as sensations — the Auscliauungt-n of our 
 senses. Our sensations (i. e., in Kant's terminology
 
 332 rilE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 onx Anschatntngen, oiten translated by "intuitions") 
 are not subject to doubt; they are immediately per- 
 ceived as real ; and a similar immediateness has been 
 attributed by many philosophers to certain very gen- 
 eral or universal truths. 
 
 Rosmini regards "being" and truth as identical. 
 We make a distinction between reality and truth. 
 Sensations are "real"; v/e cannot say that sensations 
 as such are either true or untrue. For instance, I feel 
 a slight pang of hunger in the stomach : Is there any 
 truth or untruth in this feeling ? Or a certain color 
 sensation takes place in the eye : Is there any truth 
 or untruth in this sensation? Sensations are simply 
 real ; they are the data of our experience, out of which 
 we construct our ideas. But these ideas if they prop- 
 erly represent the objects sensed, are true ; if not, 
 they are untrue. Truth and untruth always presup- 
 pose mental activity. If I, having a color-sensation 
 which is a subjective hallucination, judge that there is 
 an object before me, I am mistaken; the sensation in 
 that case is not wrong, but my judgment of it is wrong. 
 The sensation is right enough; it is caused somehow 
 according to the laws of nature; but I have allowed 
 myself to be misguided by its appearance. 
 
 Thus truth is never a thing of immediate percep- 
 tion, but always the product of mental activity. The 
 very laws of mind would have to be reversed, should 
 truth be directly perceived as are sensations. 
 
 Professor BilHa assumes that if an idea, "through 
 
 sense- reminiscence," were "a representation of the 
 
 object," 
 
 " It would come to pass that we could never think of any ob- 
 ject, but always of its representation ; therefore, 
 
 he adds,
 
 HOSM/NI'S PJJILOSOPIIY. 333 
 
 "I could not think one, two, three — the thought itself would 
 be impossible." 
 
 Why? Is this not self-mystification? Let us not 
 stultify ourselves. By having and thinking a repre- 
 sentation, we think of the object represented. A cer- 
 tain feeling, being caused somehow, say by a certain 
 sense-impression, comes to represent an object, and 
 thus it stands for it ; it symbolises it. This is the na- 
 ture of thought. Whenever the symbol is felt, the 
 object represented in it is thought of. 
 
 There is a long distance between Alessandria in 
 Northern Italy and Chicago in the prairies of Illinois, 
 but it almost seems to us that the distance between 
 the spiritual roads of Professor Billia and ourselves is 
 greater still. Centuries seem to lie between us. But 
 in spite of all our divergencies we observe with pleas- 
 ure a certain concurrence in some most important 
 points. We have in this sketch attempted to repre- 
 sent the case with faithful impartiality, not attenuat- 
 ing and not extending either the differences or agree- 
 ments.
 
 FAITH AND REASON, 
 
 A REVIEW OF FECHNER'S METHOD OF CONCIL 
 lATING RELIGION WITH SCIENCE. 
 
 GusTAV Theodor Fechner is the founder of psy- 
 cho-physics, i. e., the science which determines the 
 relation between sense-stimuli and sensations, thus ex- 
 plaining the interdependence between bodily functions 
 and psychical phenomena. Prof. E. H, Weber had 
 set up the law that the increase of a stimulus to be 
 appreciable must always bear some fixed and definite 
 proportion to the intensity of the stimulus with which 
 it is compared. For instance if we can just distinguish 
 between i6 ounces and 17 ounces, we shall be able to 
 distinguish between 32 and 34 ounces, not between 
 33 and 34. The fraction j\ must be the same. This 
 fraction, the smallest noticeable difference, which is 
 to be found out by experiment, is called the "differ- 
 ence threshold " of muscular sense. 
 
 Fechner took up Weber's investigations and stated 
 Weber's law with greater precision in a mathematical 
 form thus : "The sensation increases as the logarithm 
 of the stimulus." He made this law of the relation 
 that obtains betvy-een body and soul the basis of a new 
 branch of science which he called "psycho-physics." 
 
 We must add that the law is approximately true in 
 the case of sight, hearing, pressure, and the muscular
 
 FAITH AND REASON. 335 
 
 sense, it is most exactly true of sound, but it is un- 
 certain for the chemical senses of smell and taste. 
 It is most exact in the middle regions of the sensory 
 scale but becomes unreliable when we approach either 
 the lower or upper limit of sensibility. 
 
 Fechner called attention to the duality of sensation 
 and motion ; yet he proposed to conceive this duality 
 as two aspects only of one and the same thing. Fech- 
 ner's philosophical ideal was monism, yet we must add 
 that, in our opinion, he has not fully realised his mo- 
 nistic ideal. His imaginative powers were those of a 
 poet and we find that his views of God and soul and 
 immortality are sometimes bordering on or even en- 
 tering into that kind of fanciful spiritualism which is 
 
 generally called supernaturalism. 
 
 * 
 
 This is a short description of Fechner's position 
 and importance as a psychologist. At present we do 
 not intend to give any further explanation of his meta- 
 physical, or psychological, or philosophical views, but 
 to describe his attitude toward religion. No one per- 
 haps could feel more deeply and earnestly the demand 
 of the soul to have science and religion conciliated. 
 He was a man of science ; his life was devoted to most 
 intricate investigations and experiments, but he never 
 lost sight on the one hand of the religious importance 
 of scientific work and on the other hand of the indis- 
 pensability of religion to science. 
 
 Fechner argues : 
 
 Knowledge and faith are intimately interconnected. 
 Science cannot live without faith. I know that I have 
 a sensation of red or green or yellow, I also know that 
 the sum of the angles in a plane triangle are equal to 
 180 degrees. But I do not know in the strictest sense
 
 336 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 of knowledge that another man has the same color- 
 sensation when he looks at the same objects. I do 
 not even know that space is tri-dimensional, I may 
 have (and we cannot say that we do not have) good 
 reasons for believing the one and the other, but this 
 behef, certain though it may be, rests upon our faith in 
 the regularity and cosmic order of the universe, which 
 is the result of an inference but not an object of direct 
 knowledge. Fechner starting from such considera- 
 tions, says, it is the duty of the man of science not to 
 abolish faith but to replace it so far as possible by ex- 
 act knowledge. 
 
 Faith originates because v/e need it, we are in want 
 of it, it is a necessity of life. We cannot extend our 
 knowledge without faith, we cannot act without it, 
 and that faith an essential feature of which is the as- 
 piration to extend knowledge is superior to the self- 
 sufficient faith of the Moslem who burns the books and 
 spurns science. 
 
 The basis of religion lies deeply buried in the na- 
 ture of man and human society, so deeply that many 
 cannot detect it. Many propose the principles of hu- 
 manity or pure ethics as a surrogate in the place of 
 religion. But they forget that these principles of hu- 
 manity are a product of religion and would not exist 
 without it. Humanity and religiosity rise and sink 
 together. We may imagine the stones in the founda- 
 tion of the building useless, because they are hidden 
 from sight, but if we should take them away the house 
 must fall. 
 
 Religion holds and keeps human society, and hu- 
 man society is such an immediate presence as the air 
 we breathe. To discard religion and keep humanity 
 or ethics is about the same as to propose that we can
 
 FAITH AND REASON. 337 
 
 dispense with the air so long as and because we have 
 breath. 
 
 Fechner maintains that there are three essential 
 elements in religion and no religion is perfect unless 
 it proposes a belief in all three. These three elements 
 are the belief in (i) God, (2) an immortal soul, and (3) 
 spirits. God is to him not only the ground of all exist- 
 ence but also the soul-tie of all spirits among whom 
 
 Christ is our ideal as the foremost revealer of God. 
 
 * 
 
 We do not intend to give further explanations of 
 Fechner's views and are satisfied in having outlined 
 his religious standpoint. We shall now attempt to con- 
 strue his views satisfactorily to our world-conception. 
 
 Fechner's conceptions of God, the soul, and the 
 spirit-world are not without fantastic notions, and we 
 cannot accept the arguments he proposes, especially 
 for the last and most favorite of his three religious 
 ideas. We do not deny the spirituality of the world, 
 for we ourselves are spirits, not pure spirits but spirits 
 after all, and our innermost nature is spiritual. But we 
 deny Fechner's peculiar conception of a spirit-world 
 above the spirituality of nature. 
 
 Let us see whether we can give to Fechner's views 
 an interpretation that will stand the test of scientific 
 critique. 
 
 The idea of a spirit-world is strange, but if inter- 
 preted allegorically it has a deep significance. Among 
 Christians it finds its expression in the mythology of an- 
 gels, saints, and devils. Yet this idea of a spirit-world, 
 although it is mythology, contains (as all mythology 
 does) a great and important truth. If we decipher the 
 mythological meaning of the belief in saints and trans- 
 late it into a statement of facts, we should say that
 
 338 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 the soul-life of all humanity is one great stream ; all 
 sentient creatures that lived on earth since organised 
 life began form one great empire, one large republic 
 of interdependent citizens. A man's life does not be- 
 gin with birth, nor does it end with death. There are 
 no individuals in the strict sense of the word. The 
 soul-life of past generations flov/s through the present 
 generation into future generations. Our ancestors' 
 souls are not lost ; our dead are not dissolved into 
 nothing ; they continue ; so long as we speak their 
 language, think their ideas, and act according to 
 their maxims ; they are with us all the time and will 
 be with us even unto the end of the world. In so 
 far as their presence is effective of evil, they are de- 
 mons, in so far as it is effective of good, as their in- 
 fluence leads the race onward and upward, they corre- 
 spond to the saints of the church. 
 
 Is there also a truth in the belief in angels ? Cer- 
 tainly there is ! If those features of nature's all-being 
 which produce and uphold the spiritual world of man's 
 soul-life, are called in their harmonious totality God, 
 we should say that the single powers of nature tend- 
 ing to advance God's work in the world, are, mytho- 
 logically expressed, his messengers and servants. If 
 we conceive the sun merely in his physical effects, we 
 are overwhelmed with his grandeur, his awfulness and 
 beneficence. Through him we receive directly and 
 indirectly most of the boons that produce and sustain 
 life. The sun is not a mind, yet we stand in a relation 
 to the sun that is, on our part, of a personal nature. 
 We can and often do regard him. with gratitude, and 
 to represent him as an archangel of God is by no 
 means an inappropriate allegory. It is mythology, but 
 the mythology has a meaning.
 
 FAITH AND REASON. 339 
 
 Our consciousness is the effect of the subconscious 
 spirituality of our organisation. This subconscious 
 spirituality is, as it were, our attending angel, our fa- 
 miliar, the spirit that nourishes and bears our mental- 
 ity, it is the pedestal upon which our conscious life 
 rests. 
 
 It is a wrong conception of nature to think of na- 
 ture as a dead machine regulated by the law of inertia. 
 Nature is life, nature is spontaneity, nature is spirit- 
 uality. 
 
 If we weigh the materialistic conception, (which 
 considers solely and exclusively what we define as the 
 objectivity of nature i. e. matter in motion, dropping 
 that source of psychical life which we call the subjec- 
 tivity of nature), if we compare materialism with the 
 mythology of ancient and modern religions, we should 
 say that the former is radically wrong and the latter, 
 the modern and even the ancient religions, are right 
 in the face of the former. The latter are wrong only 
 in so far as the truth is symbolically expressed and not 
 in exact scientific formulas. But the truth is there 
 nevertheless. 
 
 * * 
 
 Fechner concludes a little volume which he has 
 written on the subject, with a peculiar confession. He 
 says in his " Drei Motive und Griinde des Glaubens": 
 
 " As free as the position is which I advocate in this work and 
 have advocated in former writings, yet the orthodox position 
 where I have met it elsewhere, has on the whole, though not in 
 every case, pleased me better than the free. . . . 
 
 "To this firmness of faith is attached a wonderful blessing. 
 When I observe that many enjoy this blessing even now and 
 apply it in their principles and actions, in as far as it is possible 
 in this time of imperfection, relying partly on the need of such 
 blessing and partly upon the truth and goodness of the principal
 
 340 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 tenets of the Christian religion, I am thereby filled with a secret 
 admiration and joy. I see in this on the one hand an expression 
 and on the other hand an acceptation of the meaning and fact of 
 a perfect religion, an acceptation, which can only take place in so 
 far as the respective religion is looked upon as that which accord- 
 ing to its idea it intends to be in completion, and in so far as its 
 historic sources are considered entirely reliable. . . . 
 
 "Religion should furnish to reason the highest, safest, and 
 surest points of view ; and now it is left to the function of the in- 
 dividual reason to govern, to improve, to judge and to sift these 
 views; that is to reverse the whole subject, and in the place of 
 the unity settling all things which we must expect from religion, 
 we now get in addition to the other causes of dissent we already 
 have, also the confusion and contention about religion itself, so 
 that we easily lose all religion." 
 
 Let us pause here for a moment and ask, What is 
 "the individual reason"? Reason is reason in so far only 
 as it agrees with that feature of reality which makes 
 of the world a cosmos. Objectivity accordingly is the 
 nature of reason ; and "individual reason," denoting 
 a subjective kind of reason is a contradictory term. 
 
 The individual reason (supposing that the term 
 means subjective rationality, a rational taste or fancy) 
 is not and cannot be an absolute criterion of truth. That 
 is not true which pleases the taste of a rational being 
 best, but that which agrees with reality ; not that which 
 satisfies one's conception of rationality, but that which 
 is in conformity with actual facts. There are some 
 people who believe that that is right which their con- 
 science tells them to be right, and that that is true 
 which pleases their peculiar sense of rationality best. 
 But their position is false. The standards of truth and 
 error, and of right and wrong, are objective not sub- 
 jective ; and the very instrument of reasoning, man's 
 organ of arranging the facts of experience in proper 
 relations, his mechanism of formal thought is but a
 
 FAITH AND REASON. 34 1 
 
 copy of the world-order, an imitation of the ways of 
 nature, and a systematised recognition of the forms of 
 existence. Through reason the scientist can formu- 
 late the regularities of the universe in laws and through 
 reason alone living beings are enabled to set them- 
 selves purposes for their actions. 
 
 Religion is the recognition of authority. It stands 
 on the recognition of something that is independent of 
 our wishes and tastes ; of something that is as it is 
 whatever we think of it ; it stands on the recognition 
 of reality. But religion is not based alone on the rec- 
 ognition of realit}', it implies also the demand of find- 
 ing out the nature of reality. Religion demands cog- 
 nition, and so the proper employment of reason is an 
 essential part of religion. 
 
 Fechner proposes three principles which lead to 
 faith, (i) the historical principle, (2) the practical 
 principle, and (3) the theoretical principle. The first 
 and second are the main stays of orthodox religion for 
 they lead to religion whatever it may be, the third 
 principle, however, which includes critique and sci- 
 ence, is that which purifies religion and leads on to 
 that ideal religion of which the mythological concep- 
 tions are dim prophecies. Fechner continues : 
 
 "And why then do I not place myself upon the ground of un- 
 conditional faith in what has become historical ? I cannot, and 
 hundreds and thousands cannot. The theoretical principle asserts 
 itself, too, and must assert itself. And if implicit faith in what has 
 generally been accepted, for those who have such faith, has its 
 advantages which nothing could replace, yet with the impossibil- 
 ity that all have it and that reason be sacrificed to faith under all 
 circumstances, another task of history comes into play, that is the 
 task to make the advantages, which those believers alone can have
 
 342 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 almost exceptionally and yet not in a perfect degree, because they 
 look upon the yet imperfect religion as already perfect, the com- 
 mon property of all, by really advancing religion to its perfection 
 and thus making it possible for it to reach its culminating point. 
 "It must finally arrive where reason will be fully satisfied and 
 will be a pillar of the faith it now constantly shakes, instead of 
 demanding impossible sacrifices of reason in behalf of faith. And 
 for this end indeed the introduction of new positions in history is 
 needed ; the efforts of a reason no longer tied to rigid dogmas and 
 its attempts to overthrow what is destined to fall at some time, re- 
 quire the greatest diversity of aspirations, a ceaseless fight from all 
 sides and the failure of most of these efforts, so that, after all the 
 false courses are exhausted and done away with, the right course 
 may at least surely and safely remain." 
 
 There is much truth in what Fechner says and we 
 sympathise with the position he takes ; yet we pro- 
 pose to go further : 
 
 Fechner's third principle is the most important one 
 of all. Without it the other two principles cannot 
 produce religion. Without it, religion would be dog- 
 matism, and would cease to be religion. 
 
 Fechner concludes his book "Die drei Motive und 
 Griinde des Glaubens" with a poem which maybe re- 
 garded as his confession of faith. Some verses ex- 
 press the author's sentiment in the words of Christian 
 mythology and we must know his scientific faith in God 
 as the all-and-one in order to avoid misconstruction. 
 We here present a translation (made by Mr. E. F. 
 L. Gauss, of Chicago, for this special purpose) which 
 faithfully preserves the rhythm and the character of 
 the original even in most of its details. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; " In God my soul is resting ; 
 
 He lives and therefore I ; Say that it ends who lists : 
 
 Life is in and about Him, I have no care, for surely 
 
 I cannot live without Him, For aye rests there securely 
 
 He cannot let me die. What now in Him exists.
 
 FAiril AND REASON. 
 
 343 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 My life with all its trim 
 In Hitn is bound and hidden, 
 And when He shall have bidden 
 My soul returns to Him. 
 
 " In God ray soul is resting ; 
 
 Though hid He from its sight, 
 The witnesses descending 
 Reveal Him without ending, 
 Foremost the Christ, the Light. 
 
 " In God ray soul is resting ; 
 
 The angels' host I see 
 In His pure heights of Heaven 
 In glory move, and even 
 
 One of them doth bear me. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 
 The tie of souls is He, 
 Faith, Love, and Hope forever 
 Will shun the soul's endeavor 
 
 Till this we fully see. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 
 In Him are ever rife 
 The truth, goodness, and beauty 
 That purpose be in duty 
 
 And harmony in life. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 
 What could the parcel be ? 
 Far what I'd fain be grasping I 
 Fear not, soul, in thy gasping 
 
 Salvation comes to thee. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 
 He is its very source. 
 His will my acts commandeth, 
 And though my will withstandeth 
 
 He holds His steady course. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 
 Although He never sins. 
 Yet with His children's ailings 
 He also bears their failings 
 
 And them to duty wins. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 Comfort in grief, sublime I 
 He's love and must unfold it, 
 And never can withhold it, 
 I still abide my time. 
 
 " In God my soul is resting ; 
 This be my final word. 
 Though storms my bark encumber 
 Yet peace attends my slumber : 
 He's my eternal port !" 
 
 We regard Fechner's method of conciliating Re- 
 ligion with Science as an attempt in the right direc- 
 tion, but we cannot say that we are fully satisfied with 
 the conclusion at which he arrives. His expositions 
 do not clearly show the boundary line between Faith 
 and Reason, and thus his Faith actually interferes 
 with his Reason. 
 
 There is one way that will hopelessly confound the 
 issues between religion and science, which is, when 
 faith performs the function of science. There is an- 
 other way that will take out of life purpose, charity, 
 and comfort, which is when cold and unimpressible 
 reason performs the function of faith, i. e. when the 
 sentiment and enthusiasm of the heart is chilled or en- 
 tirely replaced by the figures of dry calculations. 
 There is but one way that will reconcile science and
 
 344 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 religion and that is when science and faith harmoni- 
 ously work together, each of the two in their coopera- 
 tion performing its own function. 
 
 Faith when it performs the function of reason is 
 called creed. Creed is injurious, but faith is whole- 
 some. He only who is faithful will conquer. 
 
 Reason when it performs the function of faith is 
 craftiness and guile. Craftiness is a vice but ration- 
 ality is the human in man. 
 
 Faith is not knowledge, but an attitude of the soul. 
 Faith is a moral not a mental quality. Faith is char- 
 acter, strength of will, loyalty to truth. There is no 
 religion in a man unless he be faithful. 
 
 Reason is the arranging and systematising of 
 knowledge so as to represent facts correctly, or in one 
 word, so as to construct truth. Reason must be the 
 torch in the hand of faith, so that faith may walk on 
 the right path. 
 
 Reason without faith makes of man a machine 
 without sympathy, without tenderness, without en- 
 thusiasm for his ideals. Reason in the soul without 
 good-will, constancy and moral stamina, is a torch in 
 the hand of a vicious man, and the mischief it works 
 is great. 
 
 Faith without reason is superstition. It is like 
 unto a m.an that is groping in the dark. He has eyes 
 but either they are blind or he shuts them to the light. 
 There is light and he might use the light to illumine 
 his path, but he scorns the light. He rather relies upon 
 what he imagines to be an inner light which is in reality 
 luminous hallucinations that appear to him when he 
 runs his head against the objects of his surroundings. 
 
 To sum up : Irrational faith is as much irreligious 
 as faithless reason.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Abomination and pleasure, 70. 
 Action, ethical, and knowledge, 5. 
 Activity, desire for, 252. 
 Activity, natural desire for, 71. 
 Adaptation to truth and ethics, 64. 
 Adler, Prof. Felix, vii, 17, 257, 263 ; 
 
 Adler, Jesus and, 262; his agnostic- 
 ism, 261; his position, 238 et seq. ; 
 
 his song, "The Golden City," 261. 
 Agnosticism, 194, 262. 
 Agreeable taste an unreliable guide, 
 
 251. 
 Aim and motion, 288. 
 Alessandria and Chicago, 333. 
 Algebra and ethics (see calculation, 
 
 65). 
 Alive, is Nature, 36. 
 All-existence, unity of, 29. 
 Altruistic and egotistic motives, 38, 
 
 54- 
 Altruism and egotism, xix. 
 Altruism, ethics is not, sx. 
 Altruistic motives not unnatural, 65. 
 American Moralist, Prof. L. M. Bil- 
 
 lia, 317-324. 
 Amuna, xxiv. 
 
 Analysis of ethical motives, 65. 
 Analysis of the moral ought, an, 258- 
 
 295. 
 Anarchy, 50. 
 Apostle St. Paul, 83. 
 Application of knowledge and ethical 
 
 rules, 6. 
 Apriori, 27. 
 
 Apriori and ethics, 26. 
 Aristotle, 79, 81. 
 Aristotle's and Spencer's views of 
 
 happiness, 79. 
 
 Arithmetical example of ethics, 65. 
 
 Attitude, 98. 
 
 Authority of truth, 10. 
 
 Authority, ethics an, 135; of ethica, 
 
 rules, 243; of scientific ethics, 244; 
 
 of the Church, 330; religion the 
 
 recognition of, 341. 
 Autonomy of will, 49, 50. 
 
 Babes in Christ, 83. 
 
 Bad, definition of, 31, 42. 
 
 Barriers between the individual and 
 humanity, 40. 
 
 Basis of ethics and belief in magic, 6, 
 
 Basis of ethics, vi, 18, iii, 113. 
 
 Belief and faith, xxiv. 
 
 Believer and infidel, 52. 
 
 Bentham, 55, 60, 61, 67. 
 
 Billia, Prof. L. M., An American Mor- 
 alist, 317-324. 328, 329, 331. 332, 333- 
 
 Bribery, 59. 
 
 Broadway street-railway case, 58. 
 
 Bruno, Giordano, 66, 67. 
 
 Brutus, 172. 
 
 Buddha, 7. 
 
 Buddhist Scriptures, xxii. 
 
 Byron, Lord, 77. 
 
 Calculation of pleasurable feelings, 
 
 65. 
 
 Cause and motive, 35. 
 
 Chicago and Alessandria, 333. 
 
 Childbearing and pleasure, 70. 
 
 Christ, 7, 14, 21. 
 
 Church, authority of the, 330. 
 
 Churches and ethics, 14, 15. 
 
 Churches and the Societies for Eth- 
 ical Culture, 13.
 
 346 
 
 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Church-life, ethics will revive, 83. 
 
 CliflEord, W. K., x. 
 
 Compulsion and freewill, 47, 
 
 Comte's agnosticism, 331. 
 
 Confucius, 7. 
 
 Conscience, 25, 39, 40, 53, 60. 
 
 Conscience, 100; develops from com- 
 prehension, 128; growth of, 119 at 
 seq.; individual, 134 ; instinctive 
 morality of, 97; is it absolute? 117; 
 liberty of, 135; not mysterious, 122; 
 not unanalysable, 120; representa- 
 tive of an authority, 131. 
 
 Consciousness, 9, 291. 
 
 Continuity of soul-life, 40, 43. 
 
 Convictions and morality, 329. 
 
 Copernicus, 17. 
 
 Crime and evil, consequences of, 60. 
 
 Crime, results of, teach a lesson, 129. 
 
 Criterion of ethics, 68. 
 
 Criterion of ethics according to Prof. 
 Friedrich Jodl, 168. 
 
 Criticism, 102. 
 
 Data of ethics, 25 et seq. 
 Death and pain, 71. 
 Death, soul-life after, 62. 
 Definiteness of opinion, 136. 
 Definition of good and bad, 31, 42. 
 Definition of religion, 7. 
 Demarcation between old and new 
 
 ethics, line of, 18. 
 Description, knowledge a, 119. 
 Determinism, 44 et seq. 
 Determinism, 153, 156. 
 Dogmas and mythology, 328. 
 Dogmas and the religion of science, 
 
 10. 
 Dogmatic believers and the ethical 
 
 problem, 13. 
 Dogmatism, 134. 
 
 Doubt and ethics as a science, 51. 
 Dreamer and thinker, 19. 
 Duty, motives of, 25. 
 Duty and right, 310. 
 Duty, weight of, and moral worth, 73. 
 
 Education, necessity of, 12. 
 Egotism and altruism, xix. 
 Egotistic and altruistic motives, 38, 
 54- 
 
 Eleemosynary philanthropy, 311 et 
 seq. 
 
 Enjoyment, Goethe on, 81. 
 
 Enthusiasm, 99. 
 
 Epictetus on freewill, 45. 
 
 Errors of the searchers for truth, 52. 
 
 Estimation of motives, 37. 
 
 Estimation, principle of, 40. 
 
 Eternity, ethics of, 42. 
 
 Eternity, standpoint of, 62. 
 
 Ethical Culture, Societies for, vi. 
 
 Ethical Movement, log. 
 
 Ethical Record, The, vi et seq., is. 
 
 Ethical rules, authority of, 243. 
 
 Ethical Societies, 109, 255, 256. 
 
 Ethics, a conception of the world, 
 114; an authority, 135; evolution 
 and, 330; knowledge and, 309; na- 
 ture and, 296 ; based on facts, 115 ; 
 compared with science, 133 ; not 
 altruism, sx ; science and, 125-130; 
 taught by nature, 304 et seq.; the 
 criterion of an objective reality, 
 234-263 ; the science of morality, 
 III. 
 
 Ethology, 27. 
 
 Euphony, 250. 
 
 Evolution, 196, 329. 
 
 Evolution and ethics, 330. 
 
 Evolution of ethics and knowledge, 6. 
 
 Evolution of soul, 41. 
 
 Evolution not merely a quasi-me- 
 chanical process, 190 et seq. 
 
 Expediency, utilitarianism an ethics 
 of, 246. 
 
 Experience and ethics, 33. 
 
 Facts, 98; attitude toward, 116; eth- 
 ics based on, 115; not mute, 116; 
 and belief, xxiv; and reason, 334- 
 
 344- 
 Facts and the basis of ethics, 18. 
 Facts and modern sciences, 22. 
 Facts, ethics to be based upon, 33. 
 Faith and scientific truth, 16. 
 Faithless reason and irrational faith, 
 
 334- 
 Faust, 78, 79, 81. 
 Fechner, his conceptions of God, 
 
 337; his method, 334 ; his poem, 342,
 
 INDEX. 
 
 347 
 
 343; his views of a spirit-world, 337 
 et seq. 
 
 Feeling and motion, 292. 
 
 First principles in ethics accordiuR 
 to William M. Salter, 264-278. 
 
 Following nature, 301. 
 
 Forecast, the ability to, 27. 
 
 Formalism of Kant, 32. 
 
 Forms of brain-tissue, 43. 
 
 Freedom of thought and laws of 
 thought, 47. 
 
 Freewill, problem of, 321. 
 
 Freewill and compulsion, 47. 
 
 Freewill and the moral law, 45. 
 
 Freewill neither a mystery nor an il- 
 lusion, 46. 
 
 Fulfil, not destroy, 83. 
 
 Funeral and pleasure, 69. 
 
 Generations, future, 197. 
 
 Gizycki, Prof. Georg von, x et seq. 
 
 God, Fechner's conceptions of, 337. 
 
 God of science intolerant, 132. 
 
 God the standard of morality, 312. 
 
 God, will of, 283. 
 
 God and Laplace, 18, 20. 
 
 God, conscience voice of, 53. 
 
 God no ghost but spirit, 21, 22. 
 
 God, the belief in a personal and 
 
 supernatural, 12. 
 God, truth in the idea of, 20. 
 Goethe, 78, 79, 81. 
 Good and useful, 55, 57, 60, 63. 
 Good, definition of, 31, 42. 
 Good-will, Kant's definition of the, 
 
 Si- 
 Goodness, adapted to some end, 63. 
 Growth and pleasure, 70. 
 Growth, unconscious, 9. 
 
 Habit and morality, i2. 
 Happiness and duties, 71. 
 Happiness and pessimism, 77. 
 Happiness in terms of virtue, 79, 81. 
 Happiness, is it the end of reason? 
 
 30. 
 Happiness, the greatest happiness of 
 
 the greatest number, 56. 
 Happiness, 172,252; and martyrdom, 
 
 195; and morality, 19O; not a stand- 
 
 ard of morality, 175; not wrong, 
 pursuit of, xiv. ; pursuit of, 175; 
 quality of, 107 ; ultimate test of, 
 
 107; will progress bring more ? 
 
 :76. 
 
 Hedonism, 65, 67, 68, 69, 106, 168, 170, 
 171 et seq., 237. 
 
 Hegeler, Mr. E. C., 99. 
 
 Higher kind of pleasure, 69. 
 
 Higher motives no self-delusion, 61, 
 
 Hoffding, Prof. Harald, x, xiii, 55; 
 his principle of welfare, 199 233. 
 
 Holland, F. M., a test of conduct ac- 
 cording to, 162-167; on the leading 
 principles of ethics, 157-161. 
 
 Hostility toward science, 281. 
 
 Hume, David, 14. 
 
 Huss, Johannes, 66. 
 
 I, or speaking in the first person, 39. 
 
 I, what am, xviii. 
 
 Ideals, 128. 
 
 Ideals and ethics, ig. 
 
 Ideals, origin of, 19. 
 
 Ideals born of want, 23. 
 
 Immortal soul of mankind, 42. 
 
 Immortality, 197, 198. 
 
 Impulse, 173. 
 
 Impulses, 174, 287. 
 
 Incongruity of religion and science, 
 
 according to Robert Lewins, M.D,, 
 
 179-183. 
 Indefiniteness, 136. 
 Independence of morality, 100. 
 Individual defined, six et seq. 
 Individualism, 196. 
 Infallible, conscience not, 40. 
 Infidel and believer, 52. 
 Ingersoll, Robert, 99. 
 Injustice of nature, 313. 
 Inspiration, g. 
 Instinct and reason, 39. 
 Instinct inherited habit, 297. 
 Instinctive morality of conscience, 
 
 97- 
 Intolerance, 136. 
 
 Intolerant, religion of science, 10. 
 Intuitionalism, ix, 54, 56, 104, 129. 
 Intuitionalists, 105. 
 Invitation to lecture, ix, loi; not to 
 
 criticise, 99.
 
 348 
 
 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 Irresistible force of some moral mo- 
 tives, 39. 
 
 Is and the ought, the, 279-284. 
 
 Is to be, 154, 155. 
 
 Isolated feelings do not constitute 
 ethics, 44, 67, 68. 
 
 Jesus and Adler, 262. 
 Jodl, Prof. Friedrich, a criticism by, 
 168-169; answer to, 170-178. 
 
 Kant, 29, 30, 32. 
 Kingdom of science, 194. 
 Knowledge a description, 119; and 
 
 ethics, 309; creates the ought, 154; 
 
 the basis of any achievement. 12S. 
 Knowledge and ethical action, 5. 
 
 Lao-Tze, xxii. 
 
 Laplace and God, 18, 20. 
 
 Laws and the ethical spirit, 3. 
 
 Laws of form, 27. 
 
 Least resistance, progress not in the 
 
 line of, 72. 
 Lewins, Dr. Robert, 184, 185 ; on the 
 
 incongruity of religion and science, 
 
 179-183. 
 Life-totality, 235, 237, 239. 
 Living the truth, 330. 
 Luther, 15. 
 
 Maddock, John, the ought and the 
 must, 149-151. 
 
 Magic, belief in, and science, 8, 9. 
 
 Majority, pleasure of a, 255. 
 
 Majority vote and morality, 107. 
 
 Martyrdom and happiness, 195. 
 
 Material goodness and moral good- 
 ness, 63. 
 
 Maxim of ethics, Kant's, 32. 
 
 Meliorism, 82, 83. 
 
 Memory of living substance, 36. 
 
 Metaphysics, formal laws of natural 
 science, 28. 
 
 Metaphysics of ethics, 30. 
 
 Mephistopheles, 79. 
 
 Mill, John Stuart, ix, 26. 305, 306; on 
 nature, 300 et seq.; his views, 296- 
 316. 
 
 Millennium and ethics, 49. 
 
 Miracle, sense of duty declared to be 
 
 a, 53. 54- 
 
 Misology, 31. 
 
 Mitleid, 253. 
 
 Modern paganism, 22. 
 
 Monism, 108 et seq. 
 
 Moral law, 98, 117 et seq.; the author- 
 ity of the, 131-137. 
 
 Moral rules, 117 et seq. 
 
 Moral worth and weight of duty, 72, 
 
 73- 
 Morality a formation of character, 
 xviii; and convictions, 329; and 
 happiness, 196; ethics the science 
 
 of. III. 
 
 Motion and aim, 288. 
 
 Motion and feeling, 292. 
 
 Motive, 98. 
 
 Motive and cause, 35. 
 
 Motives determined, 46. 
 
 Motives for action, the data of ethics, 
 
 25. 
 Must, the master, 156. 
 Mythological ethics, 51. 
 Mythology of ethics considered in, 
 
 dispensable, 53. 
 Mysticism, 100. 
 
 Napoleon, 188. 
 
 Natural law, 290. 
 
 Natural selection and ethics, 5. 
 
 Nature, 312; and ethics, 296; and 
 morality, 296-316; has an aim, 312; 
 injustice of, 313; John Stuart Mill 
 on, 300 et seq.; non-moral, 312; not 
 a person, 312 ; unalterable order of, 
 314 ; is alive, 36. 
 
 New religion, 84. 
 
 New sense of duty, 112. 
 
 Nobler self, 63. 
 
 Non-moral nature, 312. 
 
 Normative sciences, 279. 
 
 Objective and subjective world, 41. 
 Objective standard, 134. 
 Open Court, The, v et seq. 
 Order of nature and reason, 31. 
 Origin of ideals, 19. 
 Orthodox, religion of science is, 10. 
 Ought, the, and the must, 152-156; a 
 saviour, 156; a very complex idea,
 
 INDEX. 
 
 349 
 
 394 ; knowledge creates the, 154 ; 
 not unanalysable, 294; the is and 
 the — , 279-284. 
 
 Paganism of Christianity, 22. 
 
 Pain and disturbances, 71. 
 
 Pains and pleasures, 242. 
 
 Paley, 103, 104. 
 
 Parables and religion, 21. 
 
 Parables and ethics, 51. 
 
 Parable of the talents, 314 et seq. 
 
 Paraguay, 252. 
 
 Passions enslave, 45, 
 
 Peace of soul, 80. 
 
 Penal laws, 7. 
 
 Personality, xx. 
 
 Pessimism, 189; and happiness, 77. 
 
 Petrie, Professor, W. M. Flinders, 
 
 xxii. 
 Philosophy and religion, 7, 8. 
 Philosophies and the basis of ethics, 
 
 16, 17. 
 Pleasurable feelings, subjective, 241; 
 
 welfare as a continuous state of, 
 
 246. 
 Pleasure and abomination, 70. 
 Pleasure and growth, 70. 
 Pleasure and pain, 242; afford no 
 
 standard of morality, 174 ; nature 
 
 of, 248 et seq. 
 Pleasure, usefulness not, 157. 
 Pleasures and the satisfaction cf 
 
 wants, 71. 
 Pleasure not the purpose of moral 
 
 acts, 66. 
 Pleasures of egotism, 78, 79. 
 Pleasure seeker, 62, 82. 
 Positivism and metaphysics, 28. 
 Practical, the ethical problem, 3, 4. 
 Prescientific ethics, 51. 
 Principle in ethics, 37, in. 
 Principles of morality not contrived, 
 
 304. 
 Principle of truthfulness, 64. 
 Principle of right and wrong, 4. 
 Progress not in the line of least re- 
 sistance, 72. 
 Pronoun /. 39. 
 
 Prudence leads to morality, 309. 
 Purpose of moral acts not pleasure, 
 
 66. 
 
 Purpose of reason. 
 Pursuit of happiness, 175, 317; not 
 wrong, xiii. 
 
 Quality of pleasure, 68, 69. 
 
 Quotations from Schiller on philoso- 
 phy, 17; from Kant on happiness 
 and reason, 30; on the moral max- 
 im, 32; from Schopenhauer on pes- 
 simism, 74-77. 
 
 Rationalising the aim of action, 307. 
 
 Real and true, 332. 
 
 Reason, 98, 310; and formal thought, 
 29; and instinct, 39; and the order 
 of nature, 31 ; purpose of, 30. 
 
 Reason why, gS, 99, 112, 264. 
 
 Reformation, 135. 
 
 Regularity in nature, 41. 
 
 Relations illustrated by threads, 34. 
 
 35. 36, 37- 
 Relations, the sociological, 38. 
 Religion, no, 185; the recognition of 
 
 authority, 341. 
 Religion of science, 135. 
 Religions, ethical ideas of monistic. 
 
 316. 
 Religion and philosophy, 7, 8. 
 Religions are systems of ethics, 73. 
 Religion defined, 7. 
 Religion of science, 10. 
 Religion, scientific maturity of, 9. 
 Responsibility, 25, 49. 
 Resist not evil, xxi et seq. 
 Revelation and inspiration, 8. 
 Right and duty, 310. 
 Roman Christianity, 135. 
 Rosmini, 321, 326, 332, 325-333- 
 Royer, Madame, x et seq. 
 
 Salt of the earth, 14. 
 
 Salter, W. M., concluding remarks 
 of discussion with, 138-148; on (he 
 first principles in ethics, 264-278; 
 on The Ethical Problem, %6-^5\ re- 
 ply to, 97-124- 
 
 Salvation and religion of science, 74. 
 
 Salvation by ethics, 83. 
 
 Samuel and Saul, xxiii. 
 
 Schiller on freewill, 45. 
 
 Schiller on philosophy, 17.
 
 35° 
 
 THE ETHICAL PROBLEM. 
 
 School work, the effects of, 43. 
 
 Schopenhauer, viii, 74-77; his idea of 
 sympathy, 253. 
 
 Science, 99; and ethics, 125-130; and 
 religion, in answer to Dr. Lewins's 
 criticism, 184-185 ; compared with 
 ethics, 133; hostility toward, 281; 
 kingdom of, 194. 
 
 Science and belief in magic, 8, g. 
 
 Scientific ethics, authority of, 244. 
 
 Scioppius, 67. 
 
 Sectarianism, 136. 
 
 Self, xviii et seq. 
 
 Self, man's real, 308. 
 
 Selfishness, futility of, 61. 
 
 Self-preservation, 61, 307 et seq., 310. 
 
 Sentimentalism, 247 et seq. 
 
 Sheep and wolf, xxi. 
 
 Sidgwick, Prof. H , x, 104; on the 
 ought as unanalysable, 285 et seq. 
 
 Single motive has no right to be con- 
 sidered for itself alone, 43. 
 
 Slave and free man, 47, 48. 
 
 Sleep and death, 71. 
 
 Smith, Goldwin, on morality and re- 
 ligion. 186-198. 
 
 Societies for ethical culture and the 
 churches, 13. 
 
 Societies for ethical culture and the 
 ethical movement, 13. 
 
 Society and ethics, 7. 
 
 Society and the super-individual 
 soul-life, 34. 
 
 Sociological relations, 38. 
 
 Socrates and a pig, 240. 
 
 Soul, 184; objective element of man's, 
 xvii. 
 
 Spirit-world, Fechner's views of, 337 
 et seq. 
 
 Spontaneity, 289. 
 
 Standard, objective, 134; of morality, 
 177; of morality, pleasure and pain 
 afford no, 174. 
 
 Standard of estimation, 68, 69. 
 
 Standard of ethics, 37. 
 
 Standard of morality, is the useful 
 the? 58. 
 
 Standard of right and wrong, 4. 
 
 Stand-up, the a priori a, 26. 
 
 Strength of man, 44. 
 
 Struggle, 102. 
 
 Subjective and objective world, 41. 
 Success not explained by vices, 188. 
 Superindividual, aspirations, 124; 
 
 considerations, 198, 253, 310. 
 Superindividualism, 196. 
 Super-individual elements of the 
 
 soul, 44. 
 Super-individual soul-life, 34. 
 Supernatural, 311 et seq. 
 Supernaturalism, 113, 177, 130. 
 Super-personal, God is not personal 
 
 but, 21. 
 Sympathy, Schopenhauer's idea of, 
 
 253- 
 
 Talents, parable of the, 314 et seq. 
 
 Teething and pleasure, 70. 
 
 Test of conduct, according to F. M. 
 
 Holland, 162-167. 
 Theories of ethics in their practical 
 
 importance, 4. 
 Thinker and dreamer, 19. 
 Thought and ethics, 26. 
 Threads, representing the relations 
 
 of man, 34, 35, 36, 37. 
 Threads, the invisible threads of 
 
 super-individual motives, 56. 
 Tiger not more immoral than the 
 
 lamb, 195. 
 Tolerance, 136. 
 Torquemada, xsiii. 
 Transcendent and transcendental.zg. 
 Transcendental in the sense of tran- 
 scendent, 260, 261. 
 True and real, 332. 
 Truth and salvation, 74. 
 Truth, condition of ethics is search 
 
 for, 64. 
 Truth in the idea of God, 20. 
 
 Unalterable order of nature, 314. 
 
 Untenable, the old reasons of ethics, 
 12. 
 
 Untenable, theological conception 
 of freewill, 46. 
 
 Useful and good, 57, 60, 64. 
 
 Usefulness not pleasure, 157. 
 
 Utilitarianism, ix, 55, 56, 59, X05, 106, 
 171, 235, 236; an ethics of expedi- 
 ency, 246; reconciliation with, 106.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 351 
 
 Utility of consequences and morality, 
 59. 
 
 Victorious, in the end the ethical 
 
 movement will be, 16. 
 Virtue in terms of happiness, 79, 81. 
 
 Want, the origin of ideals, 23. 
 
 Wants, the satisfaction of, and pleas- 
 ures, 71. 
 
 We, the to be eliminated, 282 et seq. 
 
 Weber's law. Prof. E. H., 334. 
 
 Welfare, 168, 236, 238; as a continu- 
 ous state of pleasurable feelings, 
 
 246; ethics of, criticised, 239 ; tlie 
 
 principle of, according to Prof. 
 
 Harald Hoffding, 199-233. 
 Will and action, 36. 
 Will of God, 283. 
 Wolf and sheep, xxi. 
 Wood cutter, 100. 
 
 World, a field for realising ideals, 23. 
 World, a network of causes and ef, 
 
 fects, 36. 
 World, objective and subjective, 41. 
 World-theories and ethics, 17. 
 Wundt, Prof. Wilhelm, x.
 
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