Still, his doctrine has become less startling, and he has moved in the direction of a greater harmony with the moral judgments of men generally.

The conduct he recommends need not, as a rule, differ greatly from that recognized as right by moralists of quite different schools.

Such a utilitarian may easily pa.s.s over to a form of doctrine which is not utilitarian at all. Thus, Sidgwick asks whether there is a measurable quality of feeling expressed by the word "pleasure," which is independent of its relation to volition, and strictly undefinable from its simplicity--"like the quality of feeling expressed by 'sweet,' of which also we are conscious in varying degrees of intensity;" and he answers: "For my own part, when the term (pleasure) is used in the more extended sense which I have adopted, to include the most refined and subtle intellectual and emotional gratifications, no less than the coa.r.s.er and more definite sensual enjoyments, I can find no common quality in the feelings so designated except some relation to desire or volition."

[Footnote: _The Methods of Ethics_, Book II, chapter ii, Sec 2, 4th Edition. SIDGWICK never appreciably modified this opinion, which is most clearly expressed in the Edition quoted.]

When we seek, then, to "give pleasure," are we doing nothing else than giving recognition to the desire and will of our neighbor? What has become of the Greatest Happiness Principle? Has it not dissolved into the doctrine of the Real Social Will?

CHAPTER XXVI

NATURE, PERFECTION, SELF-REALIZATION

I. NATURE

115. HUMAN NATURE AS ACCEPTED STANDARD.--The three doctrines, that the norm of moral action is to follow nature, that it is to aim at the attainment of perfection, and that it is the realization of one's capabilities, have much in common. They may conveniently be treated in the same chapter.

Early in the history of the ethics we find the moralist preaching that it is the duty of man to follow nature, and branding vice as unnatural and, hence, to be abhorred.

The word "nature," thus used, has had a fluctuating meaning. Sometimes the thought has been predominantly of human nature, and sometimes the appeal has been to nature in a wider sense.

Aristotle, who finds the "good" of man in happiness or "well-being,"

points out that this is something relative to man's nature. The well- being of a man he conceives as, in large part, "well-doing," and well- doing he defines as performing the proper functions of a man. [Footnote: _Nichomachean Ethics_, Book I, chapters iv, vii, viii.] If we ask him what is proper or natural to man, he refers us to what man, when fully developed, becomes: "What every being is in its completed state, that certainly is the nature of that thing, whether it be a man, a house, or a horse." [Footnote: _Politics_, i, 2.] He conceives man's nature, thus, as that which it is in man to become. Toward this end man strives; and it is this which furnishes him with the law of his action.

But, it may be asked, how shall this end be defined in detail? Individual men, who arrive at mature years, are by no means alike. Some we approve; some we disapprove. We evidently appeal to a standard by which the individual is judged. The appeal to the nature of man helps us little unless we can agree upon what we may accept as a just revelation of that nature--a pattern of some sort, divergence from which may be called unnatural, and is to be reprobated.

Neither Aristotle, nor those who, after him, took human nature as the moral norm, were without some conception of such a pattern. They kept in view certain things that men may become rather than certain others. They accepted as their standard a type of human nature which tends, on the whole, to realize itself more and more in the course of development of human communities. But as different human societies differ more or less in the characteristics which they tend to transmit to their members, in the kind of man whom they tend to form, we find the ideal of human nature, with which we are presented, somewhat vague and fluctuating.

Different traits are dwelt upon by different moralists. Still, the appeals to human nature have a good deal in common; upon man's rational and social qualities especial stress is apt to be laid.

116. HUMAN NATURE AND THE LAW OF NATURE.--"Every nature," said Marcus Aurelius, [Footnote: _Thoughts_, translated by George Long, viii, 7.] "is contented with itself when it goes on its way well; and a rational nature goes on its way well, when in its thoughts it a.s.sents to nothing false or uncertain, and when it directs its movements to social acts only, and when it confines its desires and aversions to the things which are in its power, and when it is satisfied with everything that is a.s.signed to it by the common Nature."

In the last clause the Stoic turns from the contemplation of man's nature, taken by itself, and dwells upon the nature of the universe, which he conceives to be controlled by reason. He thus gains an added argument for the obligations laid upon man by his own nature. He writes:

"Every instrument, tool, vessel, if it does that for which it has been made, is well, and yet he who made it is not there. But in the things which are held together by Nature there is within and there abides in them the power which made them; wherefore the more is it fit to reverence this power, and to think that, if thou dost live and act according to its will, everything in thee is in conformity to intelligence." [Footnote: _Ibid_ vi, 40.]

The law of man's nature is, thus, regarded as a part of the law of Nature--"We are all working together to one end, some with knowledge and design, and others without knowing what they do." [Footnote: _Ibid_, vi, 42.] And, this being the case, man may take pattern, when he is inclined to fall below the standard of duty appropriate to him, by considering humbler creatures: "Dost thou not see the little plants, the little birds, the ants, the spiders, the bees working together to put in order their several parts of the universe? And art thou unwilling to do the work of a human being? And dost thou not make haste to do that which is according to thy nature?" [Footnote: Ibid, v, 1. ] The delinquent is, hence, judged guilty, not merely of derogation from his high estate, but also of impiety. [Footnote: Ibid, ix, 1. ]

117. VAGUENESS OF THE LAW OF NATURE.--The question of the influence of religious belief upon a theory of morals I shall discuss elsewhere.

[Footnote: See chapter x.x.xvi.] Here it is only necessary to point out that, if there is vagueness in the appeal to human nature, it can scarcely be dissipated satisfactorily by simply turning to Nature in a broader sense. Shall we, when in doubt as to human behavior, copy that of the brutes? The industry of some humble creatures it seems edifying to dwell upon; but from the fact that bees are stung to death by their sisters in the hive, or that the spider is given to devouring her mate, we can hardly draw a moral lesson for man.

The appeal to a Law of Nature so often made in the history of ethical speculation has furnished but a vague and elusive norm. He who makes it is apt to fall back upon the moral intuitions with which he is furnished, and to pack a greater or less number of them into his notion of Natural Law. [Footnote: See SIR HENRY MAINE'S fascinating chapters on the "Law of Nature," Ancient Law, chapters in and iv. The innumerable appeals to the Law of Nature contained in Grotius's famous work on the "Law of War and Peace" are very illuminating. ]

In Cicero, Nature becomes fairly garrulous to man on all matters of deportment: "Let us follow Nature, and refrain from whatever lacks the approval of eye and ear. Let att.i.tude, gait, mode of sitting, posture at table, countenance, eyes, movement of the hands, preserve the becomingness of which I speak." [Footnote: _De Officiis_, i, 35, translated by Peabody,]

118. THE APPEAL TO NATURE AND INTUITIONISM.--The moralists who urge us to follow nature, whether human nature or Nature in a wider sense, we may, hence, regard as intuitionists of a sort. Those who emphasize human nature evidently depend upon their moral intuitions to give them information as to its characteristics. It is intuition that paints for them their pattern. They do not take man as they actually find him; they call for the suppression of some traits, and the exaggeration of others.

Nor are those who appeal to Nature in a wider sense less guided by moral intuitions. The appeal is never made without restrictions and limitations. No one dreams that the bird, the ant, the spider, the bee, can be regarded as satisfactory teachers of morals to human beings. Each may be occupied in putting in order its corner of the universe; but the order attained is not a human order, and there is in it much that is revolting to the moral judgments of mankind. Man must have a standard of his own. He listens to Nature only when she tells him what he already approves.

As a form of intuitionism the doctrine of following.. nature may be criticised in much the same way as other forms. One great merit it has.

It calls attention to the fact that ethics is a discipline which has no significance abstracted from the nature of man. It appears absurd to say that man ought to do what it is not in man, under any conceivable circ.u.mstances, to do. And, like other forms of intuitionism, it has the merit of avoiding that short-circuiting which may easily prove seductive to the egoist or the utilitarian. He who accepts as his end either his own happiness or that of men generally may easily be induced to take short cuts to that end, and pay little attention to moral maxims as such.

He may treat lightly that great system of rules and observances by which men are guided in their relations with one another, and which prevent human societies from relapsing into a chaos.

On the other hand, the follower of nature, like other intuitionists, may easily be thrown into perplexity by the fact that what seems to him natural, and, hence, right, may not be approved by other men. He cannot _prove_ that he is right and they are wrong. He appears condemned to take refuge in subjective conviction, that is, in mere dogmatism.

II. PERFECTION

119. PERFECTION AND TYPE.--When we speak of a thing as more or less perfect, we commonly mean that it is more or less perfect in its kind. A good saw makes a poor razor; a good chair, a more than indifferent bed. A bee crushed by a blow, a bird with a broken wing, we regard as imperfect.

But it scarcely occurs to us to ask ourselves whether the bee is more or less perfect than the bird, or the bird than the spider. Swift's Houyhnhnms at their best could not be either perfect horses or perfect men. They were creatures with a perfection of their own, and one appropriate to their hybrid nature.

To every creature its own perfection. This principle men seem to a.s.sume tacitly in their judgments. They set up a standard for each kind, and they conceive the individual to attain or to fall short, according to the degree of its approach to, or of its divergence from, the allotted standard.

If we take perfection in this sense--and we usually have no other sense in mind in our judgments of perfection--the doctrine that it is the whole duty of man to strive to attain to perfection is none other than the doctrine that it is his duty to follow nature, his proper nature as man. And any difficulties which may legitimately be urged upon the attention of the moralist who recommends the following of nature may with equal justice be urged upon the attention of him who exhorts us to aim at perfection.

Thus, if it is doubtful just what nature demands of us, it seems no less doubtful what obligations are laid upon us when we make perfection our goal. That goal cannot mean for each man simply the developing to the utmost of all the capacities which he possesses. There are men rich in the possibilities of sloth, of indifference to future good, of egoism, even of malignant feeling. Nor does the average man furnish the pattern of perfection. The perfectionist does not regard the average man as the embodiment of his ideal. He seeks to better him.

That, in striving to attain perfection, a man should remain a man, with essentially human characteristics, seems evident. But what sort of a man he should be is not as clear. Until we are in a position to give some reasoned account of what we mean by perfection as an ideal, and to show that it is a desirable goal for man, we appear to be setting up but a vague end for human endeavor, and to be a.s.suming intuitively that it is a desirable end.

120. MORE AND LESS PERFECT TYPES.--So much for perfection as synonymous with the ideal human nature of which ancient and modern moralists have treated. It appears, however, possible to use the word "perfection" in a somewhat different sense.

Man is not merely man; he is a living being, and there are living beings of many orders. The plants, the simpler forms of animal life, the brutes which we recognize as standing nearer to us, and man may, from this point of view, be referred to the one series. Some members of this series we characterize as lower, and others we speak of as higher in the scale.

Now, such designations as higher and lower cannot be applied indiscriminately. There is little sense in the a.s.sertion that a bit of string is higher than a straight line, or a hat than a handkerchief. Some significant basis of comparison must be present. Things must be recognized as approximating to or diverging from an accepted standard in varying degrees.

Such a basis of comparison is present when some objects possess the same qualities in a more marked degree than do others. But this is not the only possible basis of comparison. We may a.s.sume that the possession of certain qualities marks a creature as higher, and that the creature which has them not, or has them imperfectly developed, thereby stamps itself as being of a lower order.

Something like this appears to determine our judgments when we a.s.sign to various creatures their place in the scale of living beings. We do not mean that the higher possess to a greater degree all the capacities possessed by the lower. Many things which the plant does man cannot do at all; and, among the animals, those which we recognize as higher may be lacking in many capacities present in a marked degree in the lower. In ranking one living creature as higher, and, thus, as more perfect, than another, we a.s.sume that the "nature" of the one, with its various capacities and lacks of capacity, is, on the whole, of more _worth_ than the "nature" of another.

It might be maintained that, in his estimate of the worth of different kinds of beings man is influenced by his partiality for the distinctively human, rating creatures as lower or higher in proportion to their divergence from or approximation to his own type. Undoubtedly this plays a part in men's judgments. We are partial to ourselves. And yet judgments of perfection and imperfection cannot wholly be explained on this principle.

"I think we must admit without proof," writes Professor Janet, [Footnote: The Theory of Morals, Book I, chapter iii, English translation, New York, 1883, p. 48.] a brilliant apostle of the doctrine of perfection, "that things are good, even independently of the pleasure which they give us, in themselves and by themselves, because of their intrinsic excellence.

If anyone were to demand that I should prove that thought is worth more than digestion, a tree more than a heap of stones, liberty than slavery, maternal love than luxury, I could only reply by asking him to demonstrate that the whole is greater than one of its parts. No sensible person denies that, in pa.s.sing from the mineral kingdom to the vegetable kingdom, from this to the animal kingdom, from the animal to man, from the savage to the enlightened citizen of a free country, Nature has made a continual advance; that is to say, at each step has gained in excellence and perfection."

One is naturally impelled to ask from what point of view things so disparate as the mineral, the plant, the brute, man, thought and digestion, liberty and slavery, can be compared with one another at all, and referred to any sort of a series. What is, in its essence, this excellence or perfection of which we have more shining evidence as we go up in the scale? Janet identifies it with intensity of being, with activity. The greater the activity, the greater the perfection.

To the identification of perfection and activity we may hesitate to a.s.sent. It does not seem clear that there is greater activity manifested in a snail than in a burning house, in maternal love than in furious hate, in quiet thought than in pa.s.sion. Yet it seems significant that judgments of worth do not appear out of place in comparing such things.

121. PERFECTIONISM AND INTUITIONISM.--Taking into consideration all that is said above, it seems not unreasonable to conclude:

(1) That in speaking of the perfection of any creature we very often judge it only by the standard set by its own type. We regard it as a good specimen of its kind.

(2) But when we use perfection in a wider sense, we judge different types after the standard furnished by the distinctively human.

(3) And we take as our standard of the human the "pattern" man held in view by those who urge us to follow nature.

But why should this pattern man be a.s.sumed to be better or worthier than a man of a different sort? He who finds in him a greater exhibition of activity may with equal justice address to himself the question: Why is activity, in itself, of value? The one question, like the other, looks for its answer in the dictum of some intuition. What may be said for, and what against, intuitions, we have already considered. [Footnote: See chapter xxiii]