Chapter I (2)

Those thinkers who have completely overlooked the distinction between pleasure with the character of rightness and pleasure which is not so qualified, are in danger of falling into opposite errors. The one class view the matter as though _all_ pleasure had the character of rightness, the other class as though _no_ pleasure were so qualified. By the one class the notion of the good as that which rightly pleases, is entirely given up; “worthy of desire” (begehrenswert) in distinction from “desirable” (begehrbar), is an unmeaning expression. For the other class, “worthy of desire” (begehrenswert) remains as a separate notion, so that there is no tautology in their saying nothing is in itself desirable except in so far as it is in itself worthy of desire, is good in itself. Manifestly they must, to be consistent, assert this, and this they have really taught. The extreme hedonists all belong to this class; but, along with them, many others; in the Middle Ages, for example, the teaching is found in Thomas Aquinas, whose greatness receives fresh appreciation from Ihering (cf. Summ. theol. I.a. qu. 80, qu. 82, art. 2 ad. 1, etc.).

But even then such a view cannot be maintained in the light of the facts without exposing the nature of good and bad to a falsification which involves a form of subjectivism similar to that formerly committed by Protagoras respecting the notions of truth and falsehood. Just as, according to this subjectivist in the sphere of the judgment, man is the measure of all things, and often what is true for one, may at the same time be false for another--so the advocates of the view that only the good can be loved, only the bad hated, are really compelled to assume that, in this sphere, each is himself the measure of all things; for the good, in that it is good; for the bad, that it is bad; so that often something is, in itself and at the same time, both good and bad: good in itself, in the case of all who love it for its own sake; bad in itself, in the case of all who hate it for its own sake. This is absurd, and the subjectivistic falsification of the notion of the good is to be rejected equally with the subjectivistic falsification of the notions of truth and existence by Protagoras, but with this difference: that the subjectivistic error in the sphere of what is rightly pleasing and displeasing takes root more easily and infects most ethical systems even to-day. Some, as recently, Sigwart (_Vorfragen der Ethik_, p. 6), confess it openly; others fall into this error without themselves becoming clearly conscious of the subjectivistic character of their view.[A]

[A] Those especially who teach that generally speaking the knowledge, pleasure, and perfection of each individual is, for him, good, their opposites bad, and that all else is in itself indifferent, will perhaps protest against my classing them among the subjectivists. It might even seem on a superficial survey, that they have set up a doctrine of the good equally valid for all. But on a more careful examination we find that this teaching does not even in a single instance, hold one and the same object to be good universally. For example, my own knowledge is, according to this view, for me worthy of love; for every one else indifferent in itself, while the knowledge of another individual is in itself for me indifferent. It is curious to observe theistic thinkers, as often happens, setting up a subjectivistic view respecting the good, valid of all mortal loving and willing, while, at the same time assuming that God, without respect of person, estimates every perfection by a kind of objective standard. This exception with regard to the loving and willing of God and the notion of Him as eternal Judge is then meant to render harmless in respect of its practical consequences, the egoism which such a principle implies.

elebrated controversy between Bossuet and Fenelon it may be said that the great bishop of Meaux advocated a kind of subjectivism. Fenelon’s theses, though he advocated a system of morality neither ignoble nor unchristian, were finally condemned by the Church of Rome, though it did not go so far as to reject his teaching as heretical. Otherwise one would really be compelled to condemn also those fine glowing lines attributed by many to St. Theresa, that in a very imperfect Latin translation have found their way into many Catholic prayer-books which is much more than their escaping the ecclesiastical censor. I give them translated directly from the Spanish

Nicht Hoffnung auf des Himmels sel’ge Freuden
Hat Dir, mein Gott, zum Dienste mich verbunden.
Nicht Furcht, die ich vor ew’gem Graus empfunden,
Hat mich bewegt der Sünder Pfad zu meiden.

Du Herr bewegst mich, mich bewegt Dein Leiden.
Dein Anblick in den letzten, bangen Stunden.
Der Geisseln Wuth. Dein Haupt von Dorn umwunden.
Dein schweres Kreuz und--ach!--Dein bittres Scheiden.

_Herr, Du bewegest mich mit solchem Triebe,_
_Das ich Dich liebte, wär’ kein Himmel offen._
_Dich fürchtete, wenn auch kein Abgrund schreckte;_
_Nichts kannst Du geben, was mir Liebe weckte;_
_Denn würd’ ich auch nicht, wie ich hoffe, hoffen,_
_Ich würde dennoch lieben, wie ich liebe.”_

The teaching of Thomas Aquinas has often been so represented as though it were pure subjectivism. It is true that much of his teaching sounds quite subjectivistic (cf. e.g. Summ. theol. 1a. q. 80, art. 1, especially the objections and replies as well as the passages in which he declares that the happiness of each is the highest and final end, asserting even of the saints in heaven that each rightly desires more his own blessedness than the blessedness of all others). Along with these, however, are to be found statements in which he soars above this subjectivistic view as, for example, when he declares (as Plato and Aristotle before him and Descartes and Leibnitz after) that everything which exists is good as such, not good merely as a means but also--a point which pure subjectivists (as recently Sigwart, _Vorfr. d. Ethik_, p. 6) expressly deny--good in itself, and again, when he affirms that in case any one--an impossible case--had at any time to choose between his own eternal ruin and an injury to the Divine love, the right course would be to prefer his own eternal unhappiness.

There the moral feeling of western Christendom touches the feeling of the heathen Hindu, as is shown in a somewhat strange story of a maiden who renounces her own everlasting blessedness for the salvation of the rest of the world; as also that of a positivist thinker like Mill when he declares sooner than bow in prayer before a being not truly good, “to hell he will go.” I knew a Catholic priest who, on account of this utterance of Mill’s, voted for him at the parliamentary election.] Whoever, as I have said, has once accepted the view that nothing can please except in so far as it is really good, nothing displease, except in so far as it is really bad, is on a way which, if consistently followed, must lead him to subjectivism. This is evident as soon as it is admitted (and at first sight, it is true, it may be denied) that opposite tastes, here desire, there dislike, may be associated with the same sense phenomenon. One might, in defence, argue that here, in spite of the similarity of the external stimulus the corresponding subjective idea may have an essentially different content. But such a view refutes itself in those cases where we ourselves repeatedly experience the same phenomenon, and, in consequence of a further development in age or by reason of a changed habit (cf. text 25, p. 16) thereby experience a different feeling, dislike for desire, or desire for dislike. There remains, then, no doubt, that as a fact the feelings may take an opposed attitude towards the same phenomenon: and again, in the case where ideas instinctively repel us, while at the same time arousing within us a pleasure of a higher kind (cf. note 32, p. 92), what has been said is also clearly evident.

Finally, we should expect from one who thinks that every act of simple pleasure is right, and that one act never contradicts another, a similar doctrine in respect of the act of choosing. But the reverse is here so obvious that the advocates of this view have in striking contrast always asserted in the most definite manner that different individuals have preferences opposite in character, and that one is right, the other wrong.

Glancing back from the disciples of Aristotle in the Middle Ages to the master himself, we find his teaching appears to be a different one. Aristotle recognizes a right and a wrong kind of desire (Ὄρεξις ὀρθᾐ καἰ οὐκ οὐκ ὀρθή) and that what is desired (ὀρεκτόν) is not always the good. (_De Anima_, iii. 10.) In the same way he affirms in respect of pleasure (ἡδονή) in the _Nicomachian Ethics_ that not every pleasure is good; there is a pleasure in the bad, which is itself bad (_Nic. Eth._ x. 2). In his _Metaphysics_ he distinguishes between a lower and a higher kind of desire (ἐπιθμία and βούλησις); whatever is desired by the higher kind for its own sake is truly good (_Metaph._ Δ 7, p. 1072 a. 28). A certain approach to the right view seems already to have been reached here. It is of special interest (a point I have only discovered later) that Aristotle has suggested an analogy between ethical subjectivism and the logical subjectivism of Protagoras, and equally repudiates both (_Metaph._ Κ 6, p. 1062 b. 16, and 1063 a. 5). On the other hand it would appear from the lines immediately following as though Aristotle had fallen into the very obvious temptation of believing that we can know the good as good, independent of the excitation of the emotions. (_Metaph._ 29; cf. _De Anima_, iii. 9 and 10.)

In close connection with this appears to be the passage (_Nic. Eth._ i. 4) where he denies that there is any uniform notion of the good (understanding, of course, the good in itself, cf. respecting this, note 26, p. 77), thinking rather that only by way of analogy does there exist a unity in the case of the good of rational thinking and seeing, joy, etc., and when, in another passage (_Metaph._ Ε 4, p. 1027 b. 25), he says that the true and the false are not in the things, where the good and the bad are, i.e. the former predicates (e.g. true God, false friend) are ascribed to the things only in respect of certain mental acts, the true and false judgments, while the latter, on the other hand, are not in a similar way ascribed to them merely in respect of a certain class of mental activities:--all of which, incorrect as it is, is still connected as a necessary result with the aforesaid error. He is more in agreement with the true doctrine of the origin of our notion and knowledge of the good, when (_Nic. Ethics_, x. 2) he adduces as an argument against the assumption that joy does not belong to the good, the fact that all desire it, and adds: “For if only irrational beings desired it, the opposition to this argument would still contain a certain justification; but if every rational being also does so, how can anything be said against it?” Yet even this utterance is reconcilable with his erroneous view.

Considered in this aspect, the moralist of sentiment (Gefühls-moralist), Hume, has here the advantage of him, for Hume rightly urges, how is any one to recognize that anything is to be loved without experiencing the love?

I have said that the temptation into which Aristotle has fallen appears quite conceivable. It arises from the fact that, along with the experience of an emotion qualified as right there is given at the same time the knowledge that the object itself is good. Thus it may easily happen that the relation is then perverted and the love is thought to follow as a consequence of the knowledge, and recognized as right by reason of its agreement with this its rule.

It is not without interest to compare the error here made by Aristotle in respect of emotion qualified as right with that which we have seen was committed by Descartes in respect of the similarly qualified judgment (cf. note 27, p. 78). The cases are essentially analogous; in both cases the distinguishing mark is sought in the special character of the idea which forms the basis of the act rather than in the act itself qualified as right. In fact it seems to me evident from various passages in his treatise _Des Passions_, that Descartes himself has treated the matter in a way quite similar to that of Aristotle, and in a manner essentially analogous to his doctrine of the self-evident judgment.

At the present time many approach very near to Descartes’ error in respect of the marks of self-evidence (if we are not rather to say that the error is really implicitly contained in their statements) when they regard the matter as though in the case of every self-evident judgment a criterion were referred to. In this case it must have been previously given somewhere, either as recognized--and this would lead to infinity--or (and this is the only alternative), it is given in the idea. It may be said that here also the temptation to such a misconception lies ready to hand and this may well have exercised a misleading influence upon Descartes. Aristotle’s error is less general, though only because the phenomenon of the emotion qualified as right has, generally speaking, come less frequently under consideration than that of the similarly qualified judgment.

If the nature of the former has been misunderstood, the latter has often been so overlooked as not even to admit of its essential nature being misinterpreted.

[29] (_p. 19_). When I affirmed that the language of common life offers no suitable terms for activities of feeling qualified as right, I did not mean thereby to deny that certain expressions are, in themselves, well suited, indeed they would seem to have been created for this purpose, particularly, for example, the expressions “_to be well pleasing_,” and “_to be ill pleasing_” (gut gefallen and schlecht gefallen), as distinct from the simple “to be pleasing” and “to be mis-pleasing.” Though, however, it might seem advisable to limit these terms in this way and so to make them serve as scientific terms, scarcely any trace of such a limitation is to be found in ordinary language. One does not, of course, care to say: “the good pleases him ill,” “the bad pleases him well,” though one still says that to one this tastes good, to another that, and so on, i.e. the expression “_to be well pleasing_” is applied unhesitatingly even in the case where pleasure is given in the lowest instinctive form. Indeed the term-“impression” (Wahrnehmung) has degenerated in an almost similar way. Only really appropriate in respect of knowledge, it came to be applied in the case of the so-called external impression (äussere Wahrnehmung), i.e. in cases of a belief, blind, and in its essential relations, erroneous, and consequently would require, in order, as a terminus technicus to have scientific application, an important reform of the usual terminology and one which would essentially narrow the range of the term.

[30] (_p. 19_). _Metaph._, Α 1, p. 980 a. 22.

[31] (_p. 20_) i.e., “Als richtig characterisiert.” This phrase, which occurs frequently, I have translated sometimes as above, sometimes by “qualified as right.” By this phrase and its equivalents is meant that the act (sc. of loving, hating, or preferring,) is at once perceived by us to be a right one, bears the mark or character of rightness.

[32] (_p. 20_). In order to exclude a misunderstanding and the doubts necessarily connected therewith, I add the following remark to what has been suggested shortly in the text. In order that an act of feeling may be called purely good in itself it is requisite: (1) that it be right; (2) that it be an act of pleasing and not an act of displeasing. If either condition be absent, it is already, in a certain respect, bad in itself; pleasure at the misfortunes of others (Schadenfreude) is bad on the first ground; pain at the sight of injustice, on the second ground. If both conditions are lacking, the act is still worse, in accordance with the principle of summation of which we shall speak later in the lecture. According to this same principle, where a feeling is good, its increase increases also the goodness of the act, while, similarly, where an act is purely bad, or at least participates in any respect in the bad, with the intensity of the feeling increases the badness of the act. When the act is a mixed one, good and bad manifestly increase, or diminish, in simple proportion to one another. The “plus” belonging to the one or the other side, must therefore, with the increase in intensity of the act become ever greater, with its decrease ever smaller. And so the surplus of good in the act may, under certain circumstances in spite of its impurity, be described as a very great good, while conversely, the surplus of the bad may, despite the admixture of the good, be described as something very bad (cf. note 36).

[33] (_p. 20_). It may happen that, at the same time, one and the same thing is both pleasing and displeasing. First, something in itself displeasing may yet be pleasing as a means to something else, and vice versa; then a case may arise where something instinctively repels us, while at the same time it is loved by us with a higher love. We may thus have an instinctive repugnance to a sensation, which is yet at the same time (and every idea, qua idea, is good), a welcome enrichment of our world of ideas. Aristotle has said: “It happens that desires enter into conflict with each other. This happens when the reason (λὁγος) and the lower desires (ἐπιθυμα) are in opposition (_De Anima_ iii. 10). And again: “Now the lower desires (ἐπιθυμία) gain a victory over the higher, now the higher over the lower, and as” (according to the ancient astronomy) “one celestial sphere the other, so one desire draws off the other with it when the individual has lost the firm rule over himself” (_De Anima_ ii.).

[34] (_p. 21_). Just as love and hate may be directed towards single individuals, so also they may be directed to whole classes. This Aristotle has already observed. We are, he thinks, “not only angry with the individual thief who has robbed us, and with the individual sycophant who deceives our confiding nature, but we hate thieves and sycophants in general” (_Rhet._ ii. 4). Acts of loving and hating, where in this way there is an underlying general conception, also possess frequently the character of rightness. And so quite naturally along with the experience of this given act of love or hate, the goodness or badness of the entire class becomes manifest at one stroke, and apart from every induction from special cases. In this way, for example, we attain to the general knowledge that insight as such is good. It is easy to understand how near the temptation lies, in the case of such knowledge of a general truth without any induction from single cases otherwise demanded in truths of experience, entirely to overlook the preparatory experience of a feeling having the character of rightness, and to regard the universal judgment as an immediate synthetic _à priori_ form of knowledge. Herbart’s very remarkable doctrine of a sudden elevation to general ethical principles seems to me to point to the fact that he had observed something of this peculiar process without at the same time becoming quite clear about it.

[35] (_p. 21_). It is easy to see how important this proposition may become for a theodicy. As regards ethics it might be feared that its security becomes thereby seriously endangered, perhaps, indeed, completely destroyed. To see how unfounded such a fear is, cf. note 43, p. 99.

[36] (_p. 22_). It seems to me evident even from analysis of the notion of choice (1) that everything which is good is to be preferred, i.e. that in an act of choice it shall fall as a reasonable moment into the balance; (2) that everything bad forms a reasonable anti-moment, and therefore also that (3) in such cases--partly by direct means, partly by an addition in which the good and the bad are to be taken into account as quantities with opposite signs--the preponderance in which right choice is to be grounded may become evident, i.e. the preferability or superiority of the one as opposed to the other. According to this view, it does not, closely examined, require the special experience of an act of preference having the character of rightness, but only the experience of simple similarly qualified acts of pleasing and displeasing, in order to attain in the above-mentioned cases to the knowledge of the better. And therefore I have said that we derived our knowledge of preferability, not from the fact that our experience has the character of rightness, but that the said preferences possess the character of rightness because the knowledge of preferability has here been made the determining standard. I do not, however, mean to say that the same distinguishing character which was previously insisted upon in the case of certain simple acts of pleasing is not also here really present.

[37] (_p. 24_). In order that the procedure here might have been rendered quite exact and really exhaustive, two other very important cases would still need to have been mentioned in the lecture. The one case is that of pleasure in the bad, the other that of displeasure in the bad. If we enquire: Is pleasure in the bad good? the answer has already been given in a measure quite rightly by Aristotle: No. “No one,” he says in the _Nicomachian Ethics_ (x. 2, p. 1174 a. 1), “would wish to feel joy in what is shameful even if it were made certain to him that no harm would result therefrom.” The hedonists, to which class belonged such noble men as Fechner (cf. his work on _The Highest Good_) contradicted this view. Their teaching is to be rejected; in practice as Hume has observed, they fortunately proved much better than in theory. There is still, however, a grain of truth in their view. The pleasure in the bad is, qua pleasure, good, and only at the same time bad as a wrong activity of feeling, and though, by reason of this perversion, it may be described as a preponderance of the bad, it cannot be regarded as something purely bad. While, therefore, abhorring it as bad, we are really making an act of choice in which freedom from what in the object is bad is preferred to the possession of what is good. And when we recognize the aversion as right, this is possible only because the preference has the character of rightness.

The case is similar when we inquire if a similarly qualified displeasure in the bad is good, as e.g. where a noble heart feels pain on seeing the innocent oppressed, or where some one, looking back upon his past life, feels remorse at the consciousness of a bad action. Here the case is in every respect the reverse of the one preceding. Such a feeling arouses a state in which pleasure preponderates, but this pleasure is not pure; it cannot be called a pure good like the joy which would have arisen were the opposite of that over which we now mourn a fact, hence Descartes’ advice (cf. 24, p. 75)--to turn the attention and feeling in an equal degree rather to the good--would really not lose its significance. We recognize all this clearly, and have therefore, once more a preference with the character of rightness as the source of our knowledge of what is worthy of preference.

In order not to introduce too many complications, I omitted in my lecture when discussing preferences to mention these cases. And this seemed to me the more admissible, because it would practically lead to the same result, if (like Aristotle in the case of disgraceful pleasure) one were to treat hate qualified as right on the one hand and love qualified as right on the other, as phenomena of simple disinclination and inclination.

It may be easily seen that from these special cases of a possible determination of a quantitative relation between good and bad pleasure and displeasure, on the one hand, and of rightness and unrightness on the other hand (cf. for these also Note 31, p. 91) there is no hope of filling in the great gaps referred to in the lecture in a way valid for all cases.

[38] (_p. 26_). Cf. my _Psych. from the Empirical Standpoint_, book ii. chap. iv.

[39] (_p. 26_). E. Dumont. _Traités de législation civile et pénale, extraits des manuscrits de J. Bentham_; espec. in the section bearing the title: “Principes des législation,” chap. iii. section 1 towards the end; chap. vi. section 2 towards the end; and chaps. viii. and ix.

[40] (_p. 27_). S. Rudolph Wagner. _Der Kampf um die Seele, vom Standpunkt der Wissenschaft._ (Sendschreiben an Herrn Leibarzt Dr. Beneke in Oldenburg.) Göttingen, 1857, p. 94 note. “Gauss said, the author (of a certain psychological work) spoke of a want of exact measurements in the case of psychical phenomena, but it would be good if we only had clumsy ones, one could then make a beginning; but we have none. There is here wanting the _conditio sine quâ non_ of all mathematical treatment, i.e. whether and how far the changing of an intensive into an extensive quantity is possible. Yet this is the first and indispensable condition; then there were also others. On this occasion Gauss spoke also about the usual incorrect definition of quantity as an ‘ens’ which is capable of being increased or diminished; one ought rather to say, an ‘ens’ that admits of being divided into equal parts....”

[41] (_p. 27_). Fechner’s psycho-physical law, even were it assured, whereas it awakens continually increasing doubt and opposition, could only be used as a means of measuring the intensity of the content of certain concrete perceptions, not, however, for measuring the strength of the emotions like joy and sorrow. Attempts have been made at determining the measure of feelings by means of the involuntary movements and other externally visible changes accompanying them. To me, this seems very much as if one were to seek to reckon the exact date of the day of the month by means of the weather. The direct inner consciousness, however imperfect its testimony may be, nevertheless offers here far more. At least one draws from the spring itself, whereas in the other case one has to do with water rendered impure by a variety of influences.

42 : (_p. 27_). Sigwart, in his _Vorfragen der Ethik_ (p. 42), emphasizes the fact that no more must be required from the human will than what it is able to perform. This utterance, which coming from the lips of so decided an indeterminist (cf. _Logic_, ii. p. 592) may especially excite surprise, hangs together with his subjective view of the good, from which view, in my opinion, there is offered no logical, normal path to the peace of all who possess a good will. (Cf. e.g. the way in which Sigwart, p. 15, passes over from egoism to regard for the general good.)

But similar expressions are also heard from others. And it might really appear doubtful whether the sublime command which bids us to subordinate all our actions to the highest practical good is really the right ethical principle. For, putting aside cases of want of reflection, which do not, of course, enter here into consideration, the demand for such complete self-devotion still seems too stringent, since there is no one, however carefully he may conduct himself, who, looking sincerely into his heart, will not frequently be compelled to say with Horace:--

“Nunc in Aristippi furtim praecepta relabor,
Et mihi res, non me rebus subjungere conor.”

And yet the doubt is unfounded, and a comparison may serve to make this clear. It is certain that no one can entirely avoid error; still, avoidable or unavoidable, every error remains a judgment, which is what it should not be, and is opposed to the indispensable demands of logic. What applies to logic in respect of weakness of thought applies to ethics on the ground of weakness of will. Ethics cannot cease to demand from a man that he should love the acknowledged good and prefer that which is recognized to be better, not putting anything else before the highest practical good. Even were it proved (which is not the case), that in a definite class of cases all men without exception in respect of these were never able to remain true to the highest practical good, this would still not afford the slightest justification for setting aside the fundamental ethical demand. Even then it would still remain an evident and unchangeable truth, the sole and only right rule, here as everywhere, to give the preference to the better over what is less good.

J. S. Mill fears that this would lead to endless self-reproaches and that these constant reproaches would embitter the life of each individual. This, however, is so little implied by the rule that it is easily demonstrable that such a result is excluded. Goethe well understood this,--

“Nichts taugt Ungeduld”

i.e. impatience in respect of one’s own imperfections, he says in one of his by no means lax sayings,--

“Noch weniger Reue,”

--giving way to the stings of conscience, when fresh joyous resolve is alone available,--

“Jene vermehrt die Schuld,
Diese schafft neue.”[A]

[A]

“Impatience naught avails
Nor more availeth rue,
One addeth to the fault,
The other maketh new.”--Tr.

In an album I once found in the hand of the pious Abbot Haneberg, afterwards Bishop of Spires, the following lines, written to the same effect:--

“Sonne dich mit Lust an Gottes Huld,
Hab’ mit allen--auch mit dir, Geduld.”[B]

[B]

“Bathe thyself with delight in the sunshine of heavenly grace,
Let patience toward all men abound--e’en with thyself find a place.”--Tr.

[43] (_p. 28_). It is necessary to be on one’s guard against drawing from the principle of love of our neighbour the conclusion that each has to _care for_ every other individual in the same degree as for himself, which, far from conducing towards the universal good, would rather essentially prejudice it. This is seen by reflecting on the circumstance that to ourselves we stand in a position different from that in which we stand to everybody else, while again in respect of these others we are in a position to help, or to injure, one more, the other less. If there are human beings in Mars the inhabitants of the earth can and ought to wish them good also, not however to strive after their good in the same manner as for himself and his fellow-men.

It is in this connexion that the injunction to take thought in the first instance for oneself, a precept to be found in every system of morality, is justifiable: “γνῷθι σαυτόν,” “Sweep before your own doorstep,” etc. The demand to seek first of all the welfare of wife and child, home and fatherland, is also universal. The command: “Take no thought for the morrow,” in the sense in which it really offers wise counsel, also flows as a result from the same source. That my future happiness ought not to be so _dear_ to me as my present happiness is not here implied.

So regarded, the communistic doctrines which illogical impetuosity would seek to derive from the lofty principle of universal brotherhood are shown to be unjustifiable.

[44] (_p. 29_). The fact that we are often unable to measure the more remote results of our actions offers a more serious difficulty.

But even this thought will not discourage us if we love the universal good. It may be said of all results which are unrecognizable in an exactly equal degree, that one has just as many chances in its favour as the others. According to the law of great numbers a compensation will on the whole result, and so whatever calculable good we create will stand as a plus on the one side and, just as though it stood alone, will justify our choice.

From the same point of view, as I have already suggested in the lecture (p. 22), the doubt is removed which in a similar manner might arise through uncertainty as to whether everything that is good draws from us a love having the qualification of rightness, and whether, therefore, we are able to recognize it as good and to take due account of it.

[45] (_p. 29_). That in the case of the limits of right (Rechtsgrenzen) we have essentially to do with spheres which lie at the disposal of the individual will has been frequently emphasized both by philosophers (cf. in this respect e.g. Herbart’s Idea of Right) and by able jurists. Ihering in his _Geist des römischen Rechts_, iii. 1 (p. 320 note), demonstrates this with numerous citations. Arndt e.g. in his _Handbuch der Pandekten_ defines law as “supremacy of the will regarding an object”; for Sintenis it is, “the will of one person raised to the universal will.” Windscheid defines it as “a certain volition (Willensinhalt) of which the legal code in a concrete case affirms that it may be made valid as against every other will.” Puchta, who has perhaps expressed the thought in the most manifold ways, says in his digest of Roman law, section 22, “as the subjects of such a _will_ thought of potentially men are called persons, ... personality is therefore the subjective possibility of the legalized will, of a legal power.” In the same work (section 118, note b) he observes in regard to a want of personality: “The principle of modern law is inability to dispose of property”; many other of his expressions convey the same meaning.

As however these legal authorities have concentrated their attention exclusively upon legal duties, and do not touch upon the problem as to the way in which the individual will has to rule in its legal sphere, Ihering has interpreted them as meaning that they considered the true and highest good, and the most intrinsic and final end, towards which the legal code strives, to be the exercise of the will as will, the joy of the individual in his volitional activity; “the final end of all law is, for them, willing” (pp. 320, 325); “the end of law (according to them) consists once for all in the power of the will, in its supremacy” (p. 326). One can well understand how he comes to condemn a theory so interpreted (p. 327), and even that he succeeds in making it appear ridiculous. “According to this view,” he says, (p. 320) “all private right is nothing less than an arena in which the will moves and exercises itself; the will is the organ by which the individual enjoys his right, the profit obtained from legal right consists in feeling the joy and glory of power, in the satisfaction of having realized an act of will, e.g. of having effected a mortgage, transferred a title, and so proved oneself to be a legal personality. What a poor thing would the will be if the bare and low regions of law were the proper “sphere of its activity!”

Certainly the heaviest charges of absurdity and ridiculousness would be well deserved if those scholars who regard the _immediate_ aim of law as consisting in a limitation of the spheres at the disposal of the will had intended in so doing to disavow all regard for the _final ethical end_, i.e. the advancement of the highest practical good. There is, however, absolutely nothing to justify this insinuation, and therefore one could perhaps with more right smile at the zeal of an attack which is really levelled merely against windmills. Moreover, what Ihering proposes to set in its place is certainly a bad substitute. For, in regarding the sphere ascribed by the legal authority to the individual simply as a sphere consigned to their egoism (a view which, as the author of _Der Zweck im Recht_, he perhaps no longer holds), he is thus led to his definition: “Law (Recht) is legal security for enjoyment,” whereas he would have been more correct in saying: “Law is legal security for the undisturbed disposal of individual power in the advancement of the highest good.” Is then injustice something which exhausts bad conduct? By no means; legal duties have limits; duty in general governs all our actions, and this our popular religion expressly emphasizes, as, for instance, when it asserts that for every idle word the individual must render an account.

Besides this first objection, which rests upon a simple misunderstanding of the intention, Ihering has also raised several others which are essentially due to imperfections in the use of language. If the legal code essentially consists in setting certain limits to the activity of the individual will in order that one person may not disturb the other in striving after the good, it follows that he who has, or had, or will have no will has also no legal sphere. I say, “has, or had, or will have,” for obviously regard must be paid to the past and to the future. A dead man often exercises an influence extending into the far distant future, so that Comte well says: the living are more and more dominated by the dead. In like manner, the situation will entail that, in respect of many problems, we leave the decision to the future, i.e. renounce the sovereignty in favour of a future will. This consideration resolves many a paradox urged by Ihering (pp. 320-325); not however, all. In the case of one who from birth has been an incurable imbecile, it is obvious that no power of will whatever can be found, to which regard for the highest practical good might allow a sphere; there remains therefore to him, according to our view, really no legal sphere, and yet on every hand we hear of a right which he possesses in his own life; even under some circumstances, we refer to him as the owner of a great estate, or ascribe to him the right of a crown or kingly rule. On examining the relations closely, we find that we are never concerned here with a true legal sphere respecting a subject incapable of being held responsible, but rather with the legal spheres of other individuals, as, for example, that of a father who, in providing for his imbecile child, gives instructions in his will concerning his property, the dominion of whose will is safeguarded after his death by the law of the land; or (as, for example, the case where the imbecile’s life is held to be sacred), quite apart from the injury done to the simple duty of affection which this would involve, there is also in question the State’s legal sphere, which permits no one else to commit a fatal attack, and accordingly often imposes a punishment, even in the case of an attempt at suicide.

A third objection of Ihering’s, i.e. that by a limitation of rights as affecting spheres of will, even the most senseless dispositions of will must be allowed legal validity (p. 325), this offers, after what has been said, hardly any further difficulty. Certainly many a foolish disposition of will must be allowed. Were the State not to admit this, then it alone would possess a definitive right of disposal; all private right would be at an end. So long as not merely subjects, but also governments, are liable to commit acts of foolishness, such an extension of the power of the State cannot be recommended. For the rest, just as secondary ethical rules in general suffer exceptions, and in particular expropriations in the case of private owners are frequently necessary, so also it is clear and to be admitted without contradiction, that senseless dispositions or dispositions which have evidently lost all meaning and reference to the highest practical good can be annulled by the State. Regard for the highest practical good is here, as is the case of every other so-called collision of duties, decisive.

[46] (_p. 29_). That a law, which in and for itself is bad and contrary to nature, however condemnable from an ethical point of view, and its modification urgently necessary, may yet in many cases receive a provisional sanction from the reason, this has long been recognized and made clear, as e.g. by Bentham in his _Traités de Législation civ. et pén._ In antiquity Socrates, who deemed himself worthy to be feasted in the Prytaneum, died for the sake of this conviction. The positive legal code, despite all its defects, creates a condition of things which is better than anarchy, and since each act of insubordination to the law threatens to injure its force in general, so in those circumstances brought about by the law itself, it may be that provisionally and for the individual a mode of action even from the rational standpoint is right, which, apart from this, would be in no way justifiable. All this results without doubt from the relativity of the secondary ethical rules, which will be treated later.

It may be added that errors respecting the laws of positive morality (a point shortly to be discussed in the lecture) in a similar way demand, under certain circumstances, to be taken into account.

It dare not, on the other hand, be overlooked that there are here limits, and that the saying: “We ought to obey God rather than man,” may not, in its free and sublime range, be allowed to suffer injury.

[47] (_p. 29_). Heraclitus of Ephesus (B.C. 500), the oldest of the Greek philosophers, of whose philosophy we possess rather extensive fragments.

[48] (_p. 31_). Ihering, _Der Zweck im Recht_, vol. ii. p. 119, and other passages.

[49] (_p. 31_). _Politics_, vol. i. chap. 5.

[50] (_p. 31_). _Nic. Ethics_, v. 14, p. 1137 b. 13. _Politics_, iii. and iv.

[51] (_p. 31_). Cf. Discours préliminaire to the _Traités de Législation_, also the section “De l’influence des temps et des lieux en matière de législation” of that work.

[52] (_p. 31_). _Philos. Versuch über die Wahrscheinlichkeiten von Laplace_, translated from the sixth edition of the original text by N. Schwaiger, Leipzig, 1886, p. 93 seq. (Application of the calculation of probabilities to moral science.)

[53] (_p. 32_). Cf. _Allg. Juristenzeitung_, vii. p. 171; _Zweck im Recht_, vol. ii. p. 118; 122 seq.

[54] (_p. 33_). _Grundlegung zur Physik der Sitten._ Cf. above note 14, p. 49.

[55] (_p. 34_). Cf. e.g. the Meno dialogue.

[56] (_p. 34_). Friedr. Alb. Lange, _Logische Studien, ein Beitrag zur Neubegründung der formalen Logik und der Erkenntnislehre_. Iserlohn, 1877.

[57] (_p. 34_). Alex. Bain, _Logic_, pt. 1. Deduction. London, 1870, p. 159 seq.

[58] (_p. 35_). e.g. Bentham, also, in antiquity, Epicurus.

[59] (_p. 35_). e.g. Plato and Aristotle, and following them Thomas Aquinas.

[60] (_p. 35_). The Stoics, and in the Middle Ages, the followers of Scotus.

[61] (_p. 36_). This even Epicurus did not deny (little in harmony as it is with his utterance quoted p. 54).

[62] (_p. 36_). _Nic. Ethics_, I. i.

[63] (_p. 36_). _Metaph._ Δ 10.

[64] (_p. 36_). _Metaph._ Δ 10.

[65] (_p. 36_). They made the relation to the greater whole serve as an argument in favour of the view that the practical life (of the politician) stands higher than that of the theorist.

[66] (_p. 36_). This testimony to the principle of summation likewise reappears as often as in a theory based upon egoistic and utilitarian grounds, the notion of God is employed in the construction of ethics (e.g. Locke; Fechner in his work on the highest good; cf. also for Leibnitz, Trendelenburg, _Histor. Beiträge_, vol. ii. p. 245). God, so runs their argument, loves each of His creatures, and therefore their totality more than the single individual; He therefore approves and rewards the sacrifice of the individual to the whole, while disapproving and punishing self-seeking injury.

In the desire after immortality also, the influence of the principle of summation is manifest. Thus Helmholtz, (_über die Entstehung des Planetensystems_, lecture delivered at Heidelberg and Cologne, 1871), in seeking to offer a hopeful prospect to those who cherish this desire, says: “The individual (if that which we achieve can ennoble the lives of those who succeed us) may face fearlessly the thought that the thread of his own consciousness will one day be broken. But to the thought of a final annihilation of the race of living mortals, and with them, the fruits of the striving of all past generations, even men of minds so unfettered and great as Lessing and David Strauss could scarcely reconcile themselves.” When it is scientifically shown that the earth will one day be incapable of supporting living beings, then, he thinks, the need of immortality will irresistibly return, and we shall feel bound to cast about for something which will afford us the possibility of assuming it.

[67] (_p. 34_). _Metaph._ Δ 10.

[68] (_p. 37_). This is the standing doctrine of the great theologians, as e.g. Thomas Aquinas in his _Summa Theologica_. Only certain nominalists, like Robert Holcot, teach the complete arbitrariness of the divine commands. Cf. my essay on the _Geschichte der kirchlichen Wissenschaften im Mittelalter_, in Möhler’s _Church History_ (published by Gams, 1867) vol. ii. 526 seq., respecting which, however, the reader is asked not to overlook the revision of the printer’s errors in the “errata,” p. 103 seq., at the end of that work.

[69] (_p. 39_). At a time when psychology was far less advanced and inquiries into the province of the calculation of probability had not brought sufficient clearness into the process of rational induction, it was possible even for a Hume to fall a victim to this gross confusion. Cf. his _Enq. concern. Hum. Underst._, chaps. v. and vi. More striking is it that James Mill and Herbert Spencer have still not advanced in the slightest degree beyond Hume; (Cf. _Anal. of the Phen. of the Hum. Mind_, vol. ii. chap. ix. and note 108), and that even the acute thinker, J. S. Mill, although Laplace’s _Essai Philosophique sur les Probabilités_ lay at his disposal, never arrived at a clear distinction of the essential difference between these two forms of procedure. This hangs together with his failure to appreciate the purely analytic character of mathematics and the import of the deductive procedure in general. Indeed he has absolutely denied that the syllogism leads to new knowledge. Whoever bases the whole of mathematics upon induction cannot possibly justify mathematically the inductive procedure. It would be for him a _circulus vitiosus_. It is here beyond question that Jevon’s _Logic_ takes a truer view.

Even in the case of Mill, it sometimes appears as if an inkling of the immense difference had begun to dawn upon him, as when, in a note to his _Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind_ (vol. i., chap. xi. p. 407), in criticizing his father’s theory, he says: “If belief is only an inseparable association, belief is a matter of _habit_ and accident and not of reason. Assuredly an association, however close, between two ideas is not a sufficient _ground_ (the italics are his own) of belief; it is not evidence that the corresponding facts are united in external nature. The theory seems to annihilate all distinction between the belief of the wise, _which is regulated by evidence_ and conforms to the real successions and co-existences of the facts of the universe, and the belief of fools _which is mechanically produced_ by any accidental association that suggests the idea of a succession or co-existence to the mind; a belief aptly characterized by the popular expression, believing a thing because they have taken it into their heads.” This is all excellent. But it is robbed of its most essential worth, when, in a later note (vol. i. p. 438. note 110) we hear J. S. Mill say: “It must be conceded to him (the author of the _Analysis_) that an association sufficiently strong to exclude all ideas that would exclude itself, _produces a kind of mechanical belief_, and that the processes by which the belief is corrected, or reduced to rational bounds, _all consist in the growth of a counter-association_ tending to raise the idea of a disappointment of the first expectation, and as the one or the other prevails in the particular case, the belief or expectation exists or does not exist exactly as if the belief were the same thing with the association,” and so on.

There is much here that calls for criticism. When ideas are mentioned which mutually exclude one another it may well be asked what kind of ideas these are? According to another utterance of Mill’s (vol. i. p. 98 seq. note 30 and elsewhere), he knows “no case of absolute incompatibility of thought except between the thought of the presence of something and that of its absence.” But are even these incompatible? Mill himself teaches elsewhere the very opposite when he thinks that along with the idea of existence there is always given at the same time the idea of non-existence (p. 126, note 39; “we are only conscious,” he says, “of the presence of an object by comparison with its absence”). Apart, however, from all this, how strange is it that Mill here overlooks the fact that he abandons entirely the distinctive character of self-evidence, and retains only that blind and mechanical formation of judgment, which he rightly treats with contempt. The sceptic Hume stands in this respect far higher, since he at least sees that such an empirical (empiristisch) view of the process of induction does not satisfy the requirements of our reason. Sigwart’s criticism of Mill’s theory of Induction (_Logic_, vol. ii. p. 371) contains here much that is true, though in appealing to his postulates he has certainly not substituted anything truly satisfactory in the place of what is defective in Mill.

[70] (_p. 40_). Cf. Hume, _Enquiry concerning Human Understanding_, vol. ii. towards the end.

[71] (_p. 40_). _Nic. Ethics_, iii. 10. Cf. the subtle discussions in the subsequent chapter on the five kinds of false courage.

[72] (_p. 41_). _Nic. Ethics_, i. 2.

APPENDIX I