LITERATURE

"If they are good or bad, it is only on account of their effects: good, on account of their tendency to produce pleasure, or avert pain: bad, on account of their tendency to produce pain, or avert pleasure. Now the case is, that from one and the same motive, and from every kind of motive, may proceed actions that are good, others that are bad, and others that are indifferent."

Consequently the question of motive is totally irrelevant. He goes on to give a long series of illustrations, from which we select one:

"1. A boy, in order to divert himself, reads an inspiring book; the motive is accounted, perhaps, a good one: at any rate, not a bad one. 2. He sets his top a-spinning: the motive is deemed at any rate not a bad one. 3. He sets loose a mad ox among a crowd: his motive is now, perhaps, termed an abominable one. Yet in all three cases the motive may be the very same: it may be neither more nor less than curiosity."[123]Mill writes to the following effect: "The morality of the action depends entirely upon theintention——that is, uponwhatthe agent wills to do. But the motive, that is, the feeling which made him will so to do, when it makes no difference in the act, makes none in the morality."[124]

Now if motives were merely inert feelings or bare states of consciousness happening to fill a person's mind apart from his desires and his ideas, they certainly would not modify his acts, and we should be compelled to admit the correctness of this position. But Mill gives the whole case away when he says that the motive which makes a man will something, "when it makes no difference in the act," makes none in its morality. Every motive does make a difference in the act; it makes precisely the difference between one act and another. It is a contradiction in terms to speak of the motive as thatwhich makes a manwill to do an act or intend to effect certain consequences, and then speak of the motive making no difference to the act! How can that which makes an intention make no difference to it, and to the act which proceeds from it?

Concrete Identity of Motive and Intention.—Ordinary speech uses motive and intention interchangeably. It says, indifferently, that a man's motive in writing a letter was to warn the person addressed or was friendliness. According to Bentham and Mill, only so-called states of consciousness in which one feels friendly can be called motive; the object aimed at, the warning ofthe person, is intention, not motive. Again ordinary speech says either that a doctor's intention was to relieve his patient, or that it was kind and proper, although the act turned out badly. But the utilitarians would insist that only the first usage is correct, the latter confounding intent with motive. In general, such large terms as ambition, revenge, benevolence, patriotism, justice, avarice, are used to signify both motives and aims; both dispositionsfromwhich one acts and resultsforwhich one acts. It is the gist of the following discussion that common speech is essentially correct in this interchangeable use of intention and motive. The same set of real facts,the entire voluntary act, is pointed to by both terms.

Ambiguity in Term "Feelings."—There is a certain ambiguity in the term "feelings" as employed by Mill and Bentham. It may mean feelings apart from ideas, blind and vague mental states unenlightened by thought, propelling and impelling tendencies undirected by either memory or anticipation. Feelings then mean sheer instincts or impulses. In this sense, they are, as Bentham claims, without moral quality. But also in this sense there are no intentions with which motives may be contrasted. So far as an infant or an insane person is impelled by some blind impulsive tendency, he foresees nothing, has no object in view, means nothing, in his act; he acts without premeditation and intention. "Curiosity" of this sort may be the source of acts which are harmful or useful or indifferent. But no consequences were intelligently foreseen or deliberately wished for, and hence the acts in question lie wholly outside the scope of morals, even according to the utilitarian point of view. Morality is a matter of intent, and intent there was none.

Motive as Intelligent.—In some cases, then, motives have no moral quality whatsoever, and,in these cases, it is true that intention has no moral quality either, because thereis none. Intention and motive are morally on the same level, not opposed to one another. But motive means not only blind feeling, that is, impulse without thought; it also means a tendency which is aware of its own probable outcome when carried into effect, and which is interested in the resulting effect. It is perhaps conceivable that a child should let loose a bull in a crowd from sheer innocent curiosity to see what would happen—just as he might pour acid on a stone. But if he were a normal child, the next time the impulse presented itself he would recall the previous result: the fright, the damage, the injury to life and limb, and would foresee that similar consequences are likely to happen if he again performs a like act. He now has what Bentham and Mill call an intention. Suppose he again lets loose the bull. Only verbally is motive now the same that it was before. In fact, curiosity is a very different thing. If the child is still immature and inexperienced and unimaginative, we might content ourselves with saying that his motive is egoistic amusement; but we may also say it is downright malevolence characteristic of a criminal. In no case should we call it curiosity. When foresight enters, intent, purpose enters also, and with it a change of motive from innocent, because blind, impulse, to deliberate, and hence to virtuous or blameworthy interest in effecting a certain result. Intention and motive are upon the same moral level. Intention is theoutcomeforeseen and wanted; motive, this outcomeasforeseen and wanted. But the voluntary act, as such, is anoutcome, forethought and desired, and hence attempted.

This discussion brings out the positive truth for which Bentham and Mill stand:viz., thatthe moral quality of any impulse or active tendency can be told only by observing the sort of consequences to which it leads in actual practice. As against those who insist that there are certain feelings in human nature so sacred that they do notneed to be measured or tested by noting the consequences which flow from them, so sacred that they justify an actno matter what its results, the utilitarians are right. It is true, as Bentham says, that if motives are good or bad it is on account of their effects. Hence we must be constantly considering the effects of our various half-impulsive, half-blind, half-conscious, half-unconscious motives, in order to find out what sort of things they are—whether to be approved and encouraged, or disapproved and checked.

Practical Importance of Defining Springs to Action by Results.—This truth is of practical as well as of theoretical significance. Many have been taught that certain emotions are inherently so good that they are absolutely the justification of certain acts, so that the individual is absolved from any attention whatsoever to results. Instance "charity," or "benevolence." The belief is engrained that the emotion of pity, of desire to relieve the sufferings of others, is intrinsically noble and elevating. Hence it has required much discussion and teaching to bring home, even partially, the evils of indiscriminate giving. The fact is that pity, sympathy, apart from forecast of specific results to be reached by acting upon it, is a mere psychological reaction, as much so as is shrinking from suffering, or as is a tendency to run away from danger; in this blind form it is devoid of any moral quality whatsoever. Hence to teach that the feeling is good in itself is to make its mere discharge an end in itself. This is to overlook the evil consequences in the way of fraud, laziness, inefficiency, parasitism produced in others, and of sentimentality, pride, self-complacency produced in the self. There is no doubt that the effect of some types of moral training is to induce the belief that an individual may develop goodness of character simply by cultivating and keeping uppermost in his consciousness certain types of feelings, irrespective of theobjective results of the acts they lead to—one of the most dangerous forms of hypocrisy and of weakened moral fiber. The insistence of utilitarianism that we must become aware of the moral quality of our impulses and states of mind on the basis of the results they effect, and must control them—no matter how "good" they feel—by their results, is a fundamental truth of morals.

Existence and Influence of Idea of Consequences Depends upon Disposition.—But the converse is equally true. Behind every concrete purpose or aim, as idea or thought of results, lies something, some passion, instinct, impulse, habit, interest, which gives it a hold on the person, which gives it motor and impelling force; and which confers upon it the capacity to operate as motive, as spring to action. Otherwise, foreseen consequences would remain mere intellectual entities which thought might speculatively contemplate from afar, but which would never possess weight, influence, power to stir effort. But we must go further. Not only is some active tendency in the constitution of the man responsible for the motive power, whether attractive or otherwise, which foreseen consequences possess, but it is responsible for the fact that this rather than that consequence is suggested. A man of consistently amiable character will not be likely to have thoughts of cruelty to weigh and to dismiss; a man of greed will be likely to have thoughts of personal gain and acquisition constantly present to him. What an individual is interested in occurs to him; what he is indifferent to does not present itself in imagination or lightly slips away. Active tendencies, personal attitudes, are thus in the end the determining causes of our having certain intentions in mind, as well as the causes of their active or moving influence. As Bentham says, motivesmakeintentions.

Influence of Interest on Ideas.—"Purpose is but the slave of memory." We can anticipate this or that onlyas from past experience we can construct it. But recall, re-membering (rearticulation) is selective. We pick out certain past results, certain formerly experienced results, and we ignore others. Why? Because of our present interests. We are interested in this or that, and accordingly it comes to mind and dwells there; or it fails to appear in recollection, or if appearing, is quickly dismissed. It is important that the things from the past, which are relevant to our present activity, should come promptly to mind and find fertile lodgment, and character decides how this happens.

Says James:[125]

"What constitutes the difficulty for a man laboring under an unwise passion acting as if the passion were unwise?... The difficulty is mental; it is that of getting the idea of the wise action to stay before our mind at all. When any strong emotional state whatever is upon us the tendency is for no images but such as are congruous with it to come up. If others by chance offer themselves, they are instantly smothered and crowded out.... By a sort of self-preserving instinct which our passion has, it feels that these chill objects [the thoughts of what is disagreeable to the passion] if they once but gain a lodgment, will work and work until they have frozen the very vital spark from out of all our mood.... Passion's cue accordingly is always and everywhere to prevent their still small voice from being heard at all."

This quotation refers to a strong passion. It is important to notethat every interest, every emotion, of whatever nature or strength, works in precisely the same way. Upon this hangs the entertaining of memories and ideas about things. Hence interest is the centralfactor in the development of any concrete intention, both as to what it is and as to what it is not—that is, what the aim would have been if the emotional attitude had been different. Given a certain emotional attitude, and the consequences which are pertinent to it are thought of, while other and equally probable consequences are ignored. A man of a truly kindly disposition is sensitive to, aware of, probable results on other people's welfare; a cautious person sees consequences with reference to his own standing; an avaricious man feels results in terms of the probable increase or decrease of his possessions; and so on. The intimate relation of interest and attention forms the inseparable tie of intention,whatone will, to motive,whyhe so wills. When Bentham says that "Motives are the causes of intentions," he states the fact, and also reveals motive as the proper final object of moral judgment.

The discussion enables us to place conduct and character in relation to each other. Mill, after the passage already quoted (see above, p. 248), to the effect that motive makes no difference to the morality of the act, says it "makes a great difference in our moral estimation of theagent, especially if it indicates a good or a bad habitualdisposition—a bent of character from which useful, or from which hurtful, actions are likely to arise." To like effect Bentham:

"Is there nothing, then," he asks,[126]"about a man which can be termed good or bad, when on such or such an occasion, he suffers himself to be governed by such and such a motive? Yes, certainly, hisdisposition. Now disposition is a kind of fictitious entity,[127]feigned for the convenience ofdiscourse, in order to express what there is supposed to bepermanentin a man's frame of mind, where, on such or such an occasion, he has been influenced by such or such a motive, to engage in an act, which, as it appeared to him, was of such or such a tendency." He then goes on to say that disposition is good or bad according to its effects. "A man is said to be of a mischievous[128]disposition, when by the influence of no matter what motives, he ispresumedto be more apt to engage, or form intentions of engaging, in acts which areapparentlyof a pernicious tendency than in such as are apparently of a beneficial tendency: of a meritorious or beneficent disposition in the opposite case."[129]And again: "It is evident that the nature of a man's disposition must depend upon the nature of the motives he is apt to be influenced by; in other words, upon the degree of his sensibility to the force of such and such motives. For his disposition is, as it were, the sum of his intentions.... Now, intentions, like everything else, are produced by the things that are their causes:and the causes of intentions are motives. If, on any occasion, a man forms either a good or a bad intention, it must be by the influence of some motive."[130]

Rôle of Character.—Here we have an explicit recognition of the fundamental rôle of character in the moral life; and also of why it is important. Character is that body of active tendencies and interests in the individual which make him open, ready, warm to certain aims, and callous, cold, blind to others, and which accordingly habitually tend to make him acutely aware of and favorable to certain sorts of consequences, and ignorant of or hostile to other consequences. A selfish man need not consciously think a great deal of himself, nor need he be one who, after deliberately weighing his own claims and others' claims, consciously and persistently chooses the former. The number of persons who after facing the entire situation, would still be anti-social enough deliberately to sacrifice the welfare of others is probably small. But a manwill have a selfish and egoistic character who, irrespective of any such conscious balancing of his own and others' welfare, is habitually more accessible to the thought of those consequences which affect himself than he is to those which bear upon others. It is not so much thatafterthinking of the effect upon others he declines to give these thoughts any weight, as that he habitually fails to think at all, or to think in a vivid and complete way, of the interests of others. As we say, he does not care; he does not consider, or regard, others.[131]

Partial and Complete Intent.—To Mill's statement that morality depends on intention not upon motive, a critic objected that on this basis a tyrant's act in saving a man from drowning would be good—the intent being rescue of life—although his motive was abominable, namely cruelty, for it was the reservation of the man for death by torture. Mill's reply is significant. Not so, he answered; there is in this case a difference of intention, not merely of motive. The rescue was not the whole act, but "only the necessary first step of an act." This answer will be found to apply to every act in which a superficial analysis would seem to make intent different in its moral significance from motive. Take into account the remote consequences in view as well as the near, and the seeming discrepancy disappears. The intent of rescuing a man and the motive of cruelty are both descriptions of the same act, the same moral reality; the difference lying not in the fact, but in the point of view from which it is named. Now there is in every one a tendency to fix in his mind only a part of the probable consequences of his deed; the part which is most innocent, upon which a favorable construction maymost easily be put, or which is temporarily most agreeable to contemplate. Thus the person concentrates his thought, his forecast of consequences upon external and indifferent matters, upon distribution of commodities, increase of money or material resources, and upon positively valuable results, at the expense of other changes——changes for the worse in his disposition and in the well-being and freedom of others. Thus he causes to stand out in strong light all of those consequences of his activity which are beneficial and right, and dismisses those of another nature to the dim recesses of consciousness, so they will not trouble him with scruples about the proper character of his act. Since consequences are usually more or less mixed, such half-conscious, half-unconscious, half-voluntary, half-instinctive selection easily becomes a habit. Then the individual excuses himself with reference to the actual bad results of his behavior on the ground that he "meant well," his "intention was good"! Common sense disposes of this evasion by recognizing the reality of "willing." We say a man is "willing" to have things happen when, in spite of the fact that in and of themselves they are objectionable and hence would not be willed in their isolation, they are consented to, because they are bound up with something else the person wants. And to be "willing" to have the harm follow is really to will it.The agent intends or wills all those consequences which his prevailing motive or character makes him willing under the circumstances to accept or tolerate.

Exactly the same point comes out from the side of motive. Motives are complex and "mixed"; ultimately the motive to an act is thatentirecharacter of an agent on account of which one alternative set of possible results appeal to him and stir him. Such motives as pure benevolence, avarice, gratitude, revenge, are abstractions; we name the motive from thegeneral trend of the issue, ignoring contributing and indirect causes. Allassignedmotives are more or lesspost-mortemaffairs. Noactuatingmotive is ever as simple as reflection afterwards makes it. But the justification of the simplification is that it brings to light some factor which needs further attention. No one can read his own motives, much less those of another, with perfect accuracy;—though the more sincere and transparent the character the more feasible is the reading. Motives which are active in the depths of character present themselves only obscurely and subconsciously. Now if one has been trained to think that motive apart from intention, apart from view of consequences flowing from an act, is the source and justification of its morality, a false and perverse turn is almost sure to be given to his judgment. Such a person fosters and keeps uppermost in the focus of his perceptions certain states of feeling, certain emotions which he has been taught are good; and then excuses his act, in face of bad consequences, on the ground that it sprang from a good motive. Selfish persons are always being "misunderstood." Thus a man of naturally buoyant and amiable disposition may unconsciously learn to cultivate superficially certain emotions of "good-feeling" to others, and yet act in ways which, judged by consequences that the man might have foreseen if he had chosen to, are utterly hostile to the interests of others. Such a man may feel indignant when accused of unjust or ungenerous behavior, and calling others to account for uncharitableness, bear witness in his own behalf that he never entertained any "feelings" of unkindness, or any "feelings" except those of benevolence, towards the individual in question.[132]Only the habit of reading "motives" in the light of persistent, thorough, and minute attention to the consequences which flow from them can save a man from such moral error.

Subjective and Objective Morality.—Finally we may discuss the point at issue with reference to the supposed distinction between subjective and objective morality—an agent may be good and his act bad orvice-versa. Both of the schools which place moral quality either in attitude or in content, in motive or intent independently of each other, agree in making a distinction between the morality of an act and the morality of the agent—between objective and subjective morality.[133]Thus, as we have seen, Mill says the motive makes a difference in our moral estimate of its doer, even when it makes none in our judgment of his action. It is a common idea that certain acts are right no matter what the motive of the doer, even when done by one with a bad disposition in doing them. There can be no doubt that there is a serious difficulty in the facts themselves. Men actuated by a harsh and narrow desire for industrial power or for wealth produce social benefits, stimulate invention and progress, and raise the level of social life. Napoleon was doubtless moved by vanity and vainglory to an extent involving immense disregard of others' rights. And yet in jurisprudence, civil arrangements, and education he rendered immense social service. Again, the "conscientious man" is often guilty of bringing great evils upon society. His very conviction of his own rightness may only add to the intense vigor which he puts into his pernicious acts. Surely, we cannot approve theconduct, although we are not entitled morally to condemn the conscientious doer, who does "the best he knows"—or believes.

Moral Quality of Doer and Deed Proportionate.—If we rule out irrelevant considerations, we find that we never, without qualification, invert our moral judgments of doer and deed. So far as we regard Napoleon's actions asmorallygood (not merely as happening to effect certain desirable results) we give Napoleon credit for interest in bringing about those results,and in so far forth, call him good. Character, like conduct, is a highly complex thing. No human being is all good or all bad. Even if we were sure that Napoleon was an evil-minded man, our judgment is of him as evilupon the whole. Only if we suppose him to be bad and only bad all the time is there the opposition of evil character and good actions. We may believe that even in what Napoleon did in the way of legal and civic reform he was actuated by mixed motives—by vanity, love of greater, because more centralized, power, etc. But these interests in and of themselves could not have effected the results he accomplished. He must have had some insight into a better condition of affairs, and this insight evidences an interest in so far good. Moreover, so far as we judge Napoleon bad as to his character and motive in these acts, we are entitled to hold that the actions and also the outward results were also partially evil. That is, while to some extent, socially beneficial, they would have been still more so if Napoleon had been actuated by less self-centred considerations. If his character had been simpler, more sincere, more straightforward, then certain evil results, certain offsets to the good he accomplished, would not have occurred. The mixture of good and evil in the results and the mixture of good and evil in the motives are proportionate to each other. Such is the conclusion when we recognize the complexitiesof character and conduct, and do not allow ourselves to be imposed upon by a fictitious simplicity of analysis.

Summary.—The first quality which is the object of judgment primarily resides then in intention: in the consequences which are foreseen and desired. Ultimately it resides in that disposition or characteristics of a person which are responsible for his foreseeing and desiring just such consequences rather than others. The ground for judging an act on the basis of consequences not foreseen is that the powers of a man are not fixed, but capable of modification and redirection. It is only through taking into account insubsequentacts consequences ofprioracts not intended in those prior acts that the agent learns the fuller significance of his own power and thus of himself. Every builder builds other than he knows, whether better or worse. In no case, can he foresee all the consequences of his acts.

In subsequent experience these results, mere by-products of the original volition, enter in. "Outer" and non-moral for the original act, they are within subsequent voluntary activity, because they influence desire and make foresight more accurate in detail and more extensive in range. This translation of consequences once wholly unforeseeable into consequences which have to be taken in account is at its maximum in the change of impulsive into intelligent action. But there is no act so intelligent that its actual consequences do not run beyond its foreseen ones, and thus necessitate a subsequent revision of intention. Thus the distinction of "inner" and "outer" is one involved in thegrowth of character and conduct. Only if character were not in process of change, only if conduct were a fixed because isolated thing, should we have that separation of the inner and the outer which underlies alike the Kantian and the utilitarian theories. In truth, there is no separation, but only a contrast of the different levels of desire and forethought of earlier and later activities.The great need of the moral agent is thus a character which will make him as open, as accessible as possible, to the recognition of the consequences of his behavior.

LITERATUREOnConduct and Characterin general, see Paulsen,System of Ethics, pp. 468-472; Mackenzie,Manual of Ethics, Book I., ch. iii.; Spencer,Principles of Ethics, Part I., chs. i.-viii.; Green,Prolegomena to Ethics, pp. 110-117, 152-159; Alexander,Moral Order and Progress, pp. 48-52; Stephen,Science of Ethics, ch. ii.; Mezes,Ethics, ch. iv.; Seth,Ethical Principles, ch. iii.UponMotive and Intentionconsult Bentham,Principles of Morals and Legislation, chs. viii. and x.; James Mill,Analysis of Human Mind, Vol. II., chs. xxii. and xxv.; Austin,Jurisprudence, Vol. I., chs. xviii.-xx.; Green,Prolegomena, pp. 315-325; Alexander,Moral Order and Progress, pp. 36-47; Westermarck,Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas, chs. viii., xi., and xiii.; Ritchie,International Journal of Ethics, Vol. IV., pp. 89-94, and 229-238, where farther references are given.UponFormal and Material(or subjective and objective)Rightnesssee Sidgwick,History of Ethics, p. 200; Rickaby,Moral Philosophy, p. 3, pp. 33-40; Bowne,Principles of Ethics, pp. 39-40; Brown,Philosophy of Mind, Vol. III., p. 489 and pp. 499-500; Paulsen,System of Ethics, pp. 227-233; Green,Prolegomena, pp. 317-323; Sidgwick,Methods of Ethics, pp. 206-207.

OnConduct and Characterin general, see Paulsen,System of Ethics, pp. 468-472; Mackenzie,Manual of Ethics, Book I., ch. iii.; Spencer,Principles of Ethics, Part I., chs. i.-viii.; Green,Prolegomena to Ethics, pp. 110-117, 152-159; Alexander,Moral Order and Progress, pp. 48-52; Stephen,Science of Ethics, ch. ii.; Mezes,Ethics, ch. iv.; Seth,Ethical Principles, ch. iii.

UponMotive and Intentionconsult Bentham,Principles of Morals and Legislation, chs. viii. and x.; James Mill,Analysis of Human Mind, Vol. II., chs. xxii. and xxv.; Austin,Jurisprudence, Vol. I., chs. xviii.-xx.; Green,Prolegomena, pp. 315-325; Alexander,Moral Order and Progress, pp. 36-47; Westermarck,Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas, chs. viii., xi., and xiii.; Ritchie,International Journal of Ethics, Vol. IV., pp. 89-94, and 229-238, where farther references are given.

UponFormal and Material(or subjective and objective)Rightnesssee Sidgwick,History of Ethics, p. 200; Rickaby,Moral Philosophy, p. 3, pp. 33-40; Bowne,Principles of Ethics, pp. 39-40; Brown,Philosophy of Mind, Vol. III., p. 489 and pp. 499-500; Paulsen,System of Ethics, pp. 227-233; Green,Prolegomena, pp. 317-323; Sidgwick,Methods of Ethics, pp. 206-207.

FOOTNOTES:[120]When Kant says that the coolness of a villain makes him "more dangerous and more abominable," it is suggested that it is more abominablebecauseit is more dangerous—surely a statement of the value of will in terms of the results it tends to effect.[121]Kant's distinction between a mere wish, and "assuming all the means in our power," appears to recognize this fact, but he does not apply the fact in his theory.[122]But, as we shall see, the utilitarians make finally a distinction between endsachievedand endsattempted.[123]Bentham,Principles of Morals and Legislation, ch. x., § 3.[124]Mill,Utilitarianism.[125]Psychology, Vol. II., pp. 562-563. The whole passage, pp. 561-569, should be thoroughly familiar to every ethical student; and should be compared with what is said in Vol. I., pp. 284-290, about the selective tendency of feelings; and Vol. I., ch. xi., upon attention, and Vol. I., pp. 515-522, upon discrimination.Höffding,Psychology(translated), is also clear and explicit with reference to the influence of our emotions upon our ideas. (See especially pp. 298-307.) The development of this fact in some of its aspects is one of the chief traits of the Ethics of Spinoza.[126]Principles of Morals and Legislation, ch. xi., § 1.[127]Bentham does not mean "unreal" by a fictitious entity. According to his logic, all general and abstract terms, all words designating relations rather than elements, are "fictitious entities."[128]By mischievous he means pernicious, bad, vicious, or even depraved in extreme cases.[129]Ibid., ch. xi., § 3.[130]Ibid., §§ 27 and 28.[131]The fact that common moral experience, as embodied in common speech, uses such terms as "think of," "consider," "regard," "pay attention to" (in such expressions as he is thoughtful of, considerate of, regardful of, mindful of, attentive to, the interests of others) in a way implying both the action of intelligence and of the affections, is the exact counterpart of the interchangeable use, already mentioned, of the terms intention and motive.[132]In short, the way an individual favors himself in reading his own motives is as much an evidence of his egoism as the way he favors himself in outward action. Criminals can almost always assign "good" motives.[133]"Formally" and "materially" good or bad are terms also employed to denote the same distinction. (See Sidgwick,History of Ethics, pp. 199-200; so Bowne,Principles of Ethics, pp. 39-40.) "The familiar distinction between the formal and the material rightness of action: The former depends upon the attitude of the agent's will towards his ideal of right; the latter depends upon the harmony of the act with the laws of reality and its resulting tendency to produce and promote well-being." Bowne holds that both are necessary, while formal rightness is ethicallymoreimportant, though not all important.

[120]When Kant says that the coolness of a villain makes him "more dangerous and more abominable," it is suggested that it is more abominablebecauseit is more dangerous—surely a statement of the value of will in terms of the results it tends to effect.

[121]Kant's distinction between a mere wish, and "assuming all the means in our power," appears to recognize this fact, but he does not apply the fact in his theory.

[122]But, as we shall see, the utilitarians make finally a distinction between endsachievedand endsattempted.

[123]Bentham,Principles of Morals and Legislation, ch. x., § 3.

[124]Mill,Utilitarianism.

[125]Psychology, Vol. II., pp. 562-563. The whole passage, pp. 561-569, should be thoroughly familiar to every ethical student; and should be compared with what is said in Vol. I., pp. 284-290, about the selective tendency of feelings; and Vol. I., ch. xi., upon attention, and Vol. I., pp. 515-522, upon discrimination.Höffding,Psychology(translated), is also clear and explicit with reference to the influence of our emotions upon our ideas. (See especially pp. 298-307.) The development of this fact in some of its aspects is one of the chief traits of the Ethics of Spinoza.

Höffding,Psychology(translated), is also clear and explicit with reference to the influence of our emotions upon our ideas. (See especially pp. 298-307.) The development of this fact in some of its aspects is one of the chief traits of the Ethics of Spinoza.

[126]Principles of Morals and Legislation, ch. xi., § 1.

[127]Bentham does not mean "unreal" by a fictitious entity. According to his logic, all general and abstract terms, all words designating relations rather than elements, are "fictitious entities."

[128]By mischievous he means pernicious, bad, vicious, or even depraved in extreme cases.

[129]Ibid., ch. xi., § 3.

[130]Ibid., §§ 27 and 28.

[131]The fact that common moral experience, as embodied in common speech, uses such terms as "think of," "consider," "regard," "pay attention to" (in such expressions as he is thoughtful of, considerate of, regardful of, mindful of, attentive to, the interests of others) in a way implying both the action of intelligence and of the affections, is the exact counterpart of the interchangeable use, already mentioned, of the terms intention and motive.

[132]In short, the way an individual favors himself in reading his own motives is as much an evidence of his egoism as the way he favors himself in outward action. Criminals can almost always assign "good" motives.

[133]"Formally" and "materially" good or bad are terms also employed to denote the same distinction. (See Sidgwick,History of Ethics, pp. 199-200; so Bowne,Principles of Ethics, pp. 39-40.) "The familiar distinction between the formal and the material rightness of action: The former depends upon the attitude of the agent's will towards his ideal of right; the latter depends upon the harmony of the act with the laws of reality and its resulting tendency to produce and promote well-being." Bowne holds that both are necessary, while formal rightness is ethicallymoreimportant, though not all important.

We have reached a conclusion as to our first inquiry (p. 201), and have decided that the appropriate subject-matter of moral judgment is the disposition of the person as manifested in the tendencies which cause certain consequences, rather than others, to be considered and esteemed—foreseen and desired. Disposition, motive, intent are then judged good or bad according to the consequences they tend to produce. But what are the consequences by which we determine anything to be good or bad? We turn from the locus or residence of the distinctions of good and bad to the nature of the distinctions themselves. What do good and bad mean as terms of voluntary behavior?

Happiness and Misery as the Good and Bad.—There is one answer to this question which is at once so simple and so comprehensive that it has always been professed by some representative ethical theory: the good is happiness, well-being, pleasure; the bad is misery, woe, pain.[134]The agreeableness or disagreeableness attending consequences differentiates them into good and bad; and it is because some deeds are found to lead to pleasure, while others lead to pain, that they are adjudged virtuous or vicious. In its modern form, this theory is known as utilitarianism. Bentham has given it a sweeping and clear formulation.

"Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do as well as to determine what we shall do. On the one hand, the standard of right and wrong, on the other chain of causes and effects, are fastened to their throne.""Strictly speaking nothing can be said to be good or bad but either in itself, which is the case only with pain or pleasure; or on account of its effects, which is the case only with things that are the cause or preventive of pain or pleasure." Again: "By the principle of utility is meant that principle which approves or disapproves of every action whatever according to the tendency it appears to have to augment or diminish the happiness of the party whose interests are in question."[135]Once more: "The greatest happiness of all those whose interest is in question is the right and proper, and the only right and proper and universally desirable end of human action." "Only on the basis of this principle do the words 'right and wrong' and 'ought' have an intelligent meaning as applied to actions; otherwise they have not."

"Strictly speaking nothing can be said to be good or bad but either in itself, which is the case only with pain or pleasure; or on account of its effects, which is the case only with things that are the cause or preventive of pain or pleasure." Again: "By the principle of utility is meant that principle which approves or disapproves of every action whatever according to the tendency it appears to have to augment or diminish the happiness of the party whose interests are in question."[135]Once more: "The greatest happiness of all those whose interest is in question is the right and proper, and the only right and proper and universally desirable end of human action." "Only on the basis of this principle do the words 'right and wrong' and 'ought' have an intelligent meaning as applied to actions; otherwise they have not."

This last statement need not mean, however, that all judgments of right and wrong are as matter of fact derived from a consideration of the results of action in the way of pain and pleasure, but that upon this ground aloneshouldour judgments be formed, since upon this basis alone can they be justified.[136]

Axiomatic Identification of Good with Happiness.—The principle that happiness is the ultimate aim of human action and the ultimate standard of the moral value of that action is generally regarded by the utilitarians as axiomatic and not susceptible of proof. As Bentham says, "that which is used to prove everything else cannot itself be proved. A chain of proofs must have their commencement somewhere." So Bain says (Moral Science, p. 27), "Now there can be no proof offered for the position that happiness is the proper end of all human procedures, the criterion of all right conduct. It is an ultimate or final assumption to be tested by reference to the individual judgments of mankind." Thus also Mill (Utilitarianism): "The only proof capable of being given that an object is visible is that people actually see it. In like manner the sole proof that it is possible to produce that anything is desirable is that people do actually desire it."[137]

Extreme Opposition to Happiness Theory.—In striking contrast to this view of the self-evident character of happiness as the all-desirable, is the view of those to whom it is equally self-evident that to make pleasure the end of action is destructive of all morality. Carlyle is an interesting illustration of a violent reaction against utilitarianism. His more moderate characterization of it is "mechanical profit and loss" theory. It is "an upholstery and cookery conception of morals." It never gets above the level of considerations of comfort and expediency. More vehemently, it is a "pig philosophy" which regards the universe as a "swine trough" in which virtue is thought of as the attainment of the maximum possible quantity of "pig's wash." Again, apostrophizing man, he says: "Art thou nothing else than a Vulture that flies through the Universe seeking after Somewhat to eat; shrieking dolefully because Carrion enough is not given thee?" Of the attempt to make general happiness the end, he says it proposes the problem of "Given a world of Knaves, to produce honestyfrom their united action," the term "knave" referring to the individualistic self-seeking character of pleasure and "honesty" to the social outcome desired. As a political theory, he thought that utilitarianism subordinated justice to benevolence, and in that light he referred to it as a "universal syllabub of philanthrophic twaddle."

Ambiguity in Notion of Happiness.—If to some it is self-evident that happiness is the aim of action, and success in achieving it the test both of the act and the disposition from which it proceeds; while to others it is equally obvious that such a view means immorality or at least a base and sordid morality, it is reasonable to suppose that the "happiness" does not mean the same to both parties; that there is some fundamental ambiguity in the notion.

Source of Ambiguity.—The nature of this ambiguity may be inferred from the fact that Bentham himself—and in this he is typical of all the utilitarians—combines in his statement two aspects of happiness, or two views of pleasure. He says it is for pleasure and pain alone to "point out what we ought to do," that they are the only basis upon which our judgments of right and wrongoughtto be formed, or upon which they can be justified. Other thingsmaybe taken as pointing out what we ought to do; other standards of judgment—caprice, sympathy, dogma—are employed. But they are not the right and proper ones. Consideration of consequences of the act in the way of effect upon the happiness and misery of all concerned, furnishes the only proper way of regulating the formation of right ends. A certain happiness, that of results, is the standard. But this presupposes that, in any case there is some end, and one which may be improper because not in accord with the standard. Yet this end also must be pleasure. Pleasure and pain "determine what weshalldo," whether we act for the maximum of pleasures or not. The "chain of causes" as well as the "standard of right" is fastened to them. We act for pleasure, even when we donot act for the pleasures for which we ought to act. Pleasure or happiness thus appears in a double rôle. Only in the case ofrightends, is it the same happiness which serves as a moving spring and as standard of judgment. In other cases, it is one pleasure which is the end in view, and another pleasure, one not in view, or at least not influencing action, which measures rightness. The essence, so to speak, of a wrong act is precisely that the pleasures which produce it are not these pleasures which measure its goodness; the agent is not moved to act by those pleasures and pains which as consequences settle its moral value, but by some pleasure or pain which happens to be strongly felt at the moment of action.

Two Sorts of Good.—Thus, even from Bentham's point of view, there is a difference between real and apparent happiness, between the good which moves to action and that which, being the standard, should move. If the end ofallacts is happiness and yet we require a consideration of results to show uswhathappiness we are justified in seeking, then "happiness" is in a highly ambiguous position. While from one standpoint, it furnishes the standard of right and wrong; from another, it furnishes the moving spring of all wrong action; it is that which so solicits and tempts us that we fail to employ the right standard for the regulation of our action, and hence go astray. It seems to some (as to Carlyle) that this distinction is so fundamental that it is absurd to say that one and the same thing can be the standard of all right action and the moving spring of all wrong action. Hence they insist upon the fundamental opposition of virtue and happiness.

Moreover, from Bentham's own point of view, there is a difference between the good whichfirstpresents itself, whichfirststirs desire and solicits to action, and the good which being formedafter and upon the basis of consideration of consequences, is therightgood. In calling thelatter theright, we mean that it has authority over the end which first appears; and hence has supreme claim over action. So it is again evident that we are using happiness in two quite different senses; so that if we call the first end that presents itself happiness, the right end will be something else; or if we call the consequences which measure the worth of the act happiness, then the first end ought to be called something else. If happiness is thenaturalend of all desire and endeavor, it is absurd to say that the same happiness ought to be the end. If all objects fall to the ground any way, we do not say they ought to fall. If all our acts are moved any way by pleasure and pain, this fact, just because it applies equally to all acts, throws no lights upon the rightness or wrongness of any one of them. Or, on the other hand, if that for which weshouldact is a kind of happiness which involves full consideration of consequences, it is misleading to call that happiness from which we act "blindly" or without proper forethought.

If happiness is to be the same as the moral good, it must be after the right kind of happiness has been distinguished; namely, that which commends itself after adequate reflection. Our criticism of Bentham will be directed to showing that, so far as he conceives of happiness as simply a sum of pleasures alike in quality, but differing only in quantity, he cannot make this distinction. As an early critic (Hazlitt) of Bentham said: "Pleasure is that which is so in itself. Good is that which approves itself on reflection, or theideaof which is a source of satisfaction. All pleasure is not, therefore (morally speaking), equally a good; for all pleasure does not equally bear reflecting upon." We shall further try to show that the reason for Bentham's conceiving happiness as simply a sum of pleasures is that he falls into the error already discussed, of separating consequences from the disposition and capacities or active tendencies of the agent. And that,when we correct this error, the proper meaning of happiness turns out to be the satisfaction, realization, or fulfillment of somepurpose and power of the agent. Thus we can distinguish between the false and unsatisfactory happiness found in the expression of a more or less isolated and superficial tendency of the self, and the true or genuine good found in the adequate fulfillment of a fundamental and fully related capacity. We shall first take up the discussion under the heads just brought out: I. Happinessas the Natural End or Object of Desire; II. Happinessas Standard of Judgment.

Hedonistic Theory of Desire.—That phase of utilitarianism which holds that the object of desire is pleasure, is termed hedonism, or sometimes psychological hedonism to distinguish it from ethical hedonism, the theory that pleasure is the standard for judging acts. The fundamental fallacy of psychological hedonism has been well stated by Green to be supposing that a desire can be aroused or created by the anticipation of its own satisfaction—i.e., in supposing that the idea of the pleasure of exercise arouses desire for it, when in fact the idea of exercise is pleasant only if there be already some desire for it (Green,Prolegomena to Ethics, p. 168). Given a desire already in existence, the idea of an object which is thought of as satisfying that desire will always arouse pleasure, or be thought of as pleasurable. But hedonism fails to consider the radical difference between an object's arousing pleasure, because it is regarded as satisfying desire, and the thought of a pleasure arousing a desire:—although the feeling of agreeableness may intensify the movement towards the object. A hungry man thinks of a beefsteak as that which would satisfy his appetite; his thought is at once clothed with an agreeable tone and the conscious forceof the appetite is correspondingly intensified; the miser thinks of gold in a similar way; the benevolent of an act of charity, etc. But in each case the presence of the pleasurable element is dependent upon the thought of an object which is not pleasure—the beefsteak, the gold. The thought of the objectprecedesthe pleasure and excites it because it is felt to promise the satisfaction of a desire.

Pleasure is the Felt Concomitant of Imagining a Desire Realized in Its Appropriate Object.—The object of desire is not pleasure, but some object is pleasurable because it is the congenial terminus of desire. The pleasure felt is apresentpleasure, the pleasure whichnowaccompanies the idea of the satisfied desire. It intensifies the desire in its present character, through opposition to the disagreeable tone of the experienced lack and want.

1. Pleasures and Original Appetites.—Biological instincts and appetites exist not for the sake of furnishing pleasure, but as activities needed to maintain life—the life of the individual and the species. Their adequate fulfillment is attended with pleasure. Such is the undoubted biological fact. Now if the animal be gifted with memory and anticipation, this complicates the process, but does not change its nature. The animal in feeling hungry may now consciously anticipate the getting of food and may feel pleasure in the idea of food. The pleasure henceforth attends not merely upon attained satisfaction of appetite, but also upon appetite prior to satisfaction, so far as that anticipates its future satisfaction. But desire is still for the object, for the food. If the desire is healthy, it will not depend for its origin upon the recollection of a prior pleasure; the animal does not happen to recall that it got pleasure from food and thus arouse a desire for more food. The desire springs up naturally from the state of the organism. Only a jaded and unhealthy appetite has to whip itself up by recalling previous pleasures. But if there are many obstacles and discouragements in the wayof getting the object which satisfies want, the anticipation of pleasure in its fulfillment may normally intensify the putting forth of energy, may give an extra reënforcement to flagging effort. In this way, the anticipation of pleasure has a normal place in the effective direction of activities. But in any case, the desire and its own object are primary; the pleasure is secondary.

2. Pleasure and Acquired Desires.—The same point comes out even more clearly when we take into account the so-called higher desires and sentiments—those which usually enter into distinctively moral questions. In these cases it is no longer a matter of the original instincts and appetites of the organism. Their place is taken by acquired habits and dispositions. The object of a benevolent desire is the supplying of another's lack, or the increase of his good. The pleasure which accompanies the doing of a kindness to others is not the object, for the individual thinks of the kindly act as pleasure-giving only because he already has a benevolent character which naturally expresses itself in amiable desires. So far as he is not benevolent, the act will appear repulsive rather than attractive to him; and if it is done, it will be not from a benevolent desire, but from a cowardly or an avaricious desire, the pleasure in that case attending the thought of some other objective consequence, such as escaping unpopularity. In like manner, the aim to behave honestly, or to obey the civil law, or to love one's country, leads to dwelling upon the acts and objects in which these desires and intents may be fulfilled; and those objects which are thought of as affording fulfillment are necessarily put in a favorable and attractive light—they are regarded as sources of happiness. To a patriot the thought even of possible death may arouse a glow of satisfaction as he thinks of this act as strengthening his country's existence. But to suppose that this attendant pleasure is the aim and object of desire is to put the cart before the horse.

3. Happiness and Desire.—All men, then, may be said to desire happiness. But this happiness is not dependent upon prior experiences of pleasure, which, coming up in memory, arouse desire and rivet attention upon themselves. To say that the desire of a man is for happiness is only to say that happiness comes in the fulfillment of desire, the desires arising on their own account as expressions of a state of lack or incompletion in which the person finds himself. Happiness thus conceivedis dependent upon the nature of desire and varies with it, while desire varies with the type of character. If the desire is the desire of an honest man, then the prosperous execution of some honorable intent, the payment of a debt, the adequate termination of a trust, is conceived as happiness, as good. If it be the desire of a profligate, then entering upon the riotous course of living now made possible by inheritance of property is taken as happiness—the one consummation greatly to be wished. If we know what any person really finds desirable, what he stakes his happiness upon, we can read his nature. In happiness, as the anticipation of the satisfaction of desire, there is, therefore, no sure or unambiguous quality; for it may be a token of good or of bad character, according to the sort of object which appeals to the person. The present joy found in the idea of the completion of a purpose cannot be the object of desire, for we desire only things absent. But the joy is a mark of the congruity or harmony of the thought of the object, whatever it be—health, dissipation, miserliness, prodigality, conquest, helpfulness—with the character of the agent. It is an evidence of the moving force, the influence, the weight, of the conceived end; it registers the extent in which the end is not a mere intellectual abstraction, but is amotive(see p. 252). But the moral worth of this motive depends upon the character of the end in which the person finds his satisfaction.

4. Confusion of Future and Present Pleasure.—It is theconfusion ofpresentpleasure, attendant upon the thought of an object as satisfying desire, with the pleasure thatwill come when the desire is satisfied, that accounts for the persistence of the idea that pleasure is the object of desire. The fact that the object of desire isnowpleasurable is distorted into the statement that weseekfor an absent pleasure.[138]A good illustration of the confusion is seen in the following quotation:

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