John Dewey

Problem of Chapter.—We have endeavored in the preceding chapters (1) to identify the sort of situation in which the ideas of good and evil, right and wrong, in their moral sense, are employed; (2) to set forth the typical problems that arise in the analysis of this situation; and (3) to name and describe briefly the types of theory which have developed in the course of the history of the problems. We have now to return to the moral situation as described, and enter upon an independent analysis of it. We shall commence this analysis, as was indicated in the last chapter, by considering the question of the relation of attitude and consequences to each other in voluntary activity,—not that this is the only way to approach the problem, but that it is the way which brings out most clearly the points at issue among types of moral theory which since the early part of the nineteenth century have had the chief currency and influence. Accordingly the discussion will be introduced by a statement of the two most extreme doctrines that separate the "inner" and the "outer," the "psychical" and the "overt" aspects of activity: viz., the Kantian, exclusively emphasizing the "how," the spirit, and motive of conduct; the Utilitarian, dwelling exclusively upon its "what," its effects and consequences. Our positive problem is, of course, by means of arraying these two extreme views against each other, to arrive at a statement of the mutual relations of attitude and act, motive and consequence, character and conduct.

We shall begin with Kant as a representative of the attitude theory.

§ 1. THE GOOD WILL OF KANT

Kant says:

"Nothing can possibly be conceived, in the world or out of it, which can be called Good without qualification, except a Good Will. Intelligence, wit, judgment, and the other talents of the mind, however they may be named, or courage, resolution, perseverance as qualities of temperament are individually good and desirable in many respects; but these gifts of nature may also become extremely bad and mischievous, if the will which is to make use of them and which, therefore, constitutes what is called character, is not good. It is the same with the gifts of fortune. Power, riches, honor, even health ... inspire pride and often presumption if there is not a Good Will to correct the influence of these on the mind. Moderation of the affections and passions, self-control and calm deliberation are not only good in many respects, but even seem to constitute part of the intrinsic worth of the person; but they are far from deserving to be called good without qualification ... for without the principles of a good will they may become extremely bad. The coolness of a villain makes him both more dangerous and more abominable" (Kant: Theory of Ethics, tr. by Abbott, pp. 9-10).

Element of Truth in Statement.—There can be no doubt that in some respects these ideas of Kant meet a welcome in our ordinary convictions. Gifts of fortune, talents of mind, qualities of temperament, are regarded as desirable, as good, but we qualify the concession. We say they are good, if a good use is made of them; but that, administered by a bad character, they add to power for evil. Moreover, Kant's statement of the intrinsic goodness of the Good Will, "A jewel which shines by its own light" (Ibid., p. 10), awakens ready response in us. Some goods we regard as means and conditions—health, wealth, business, and professional success. They afford moral opportunities and agencies, but need not possess moral value in and of themselves; when they become parts, as they may, of a moral good, it is because of their place and context. Personality, character, has a dignity of its own, which forbids that it be considered a simple means for the acquisition of other goods. The man who makes his good character a simple tool for securing political preferment, is, we should say, prostituting and so destroying his own goodness.

Ambiguity of Statement.—The statement made by Kant, however, is ambiguous and open to opposed interpretations. The notion that the Good Will is good in and of itself may be interpreted in two different ways: (i) We may hold, for example, that honesty is good as a trait of will because it tends inevitably to secure a desirable relationship among men; it removes obstructions between persons and keeps the ways of action clear and open. Every man can count upon straightforward action when all act from honesty; it secures for each singleness of aim and concentration of energy. (ii) But we may also mean that honesty is absolutely good as a trait of character just in and by itself, quite apart from any influence this trait of character has in securing and promoting desirable ends. In one case, we emphasize its goodness because it arranges for and tends towards certain results; in the other case, we ignore the factor of tendency toward results.

Kant's Interpretation of Goodness of Will is Formal.—Kant's further treatment leaves us in no doubt in which of these two senses he uses the term Good Will. He goes on (Ibid., p. 10):

"A Good Will is good, not because of what it performs or effects, not by its aptness for the attainment of some proposed end, but simply by virtue of the volition; that is, it is good in itself.... Even if it should happen that, owing to the special disfavor of fortune, or the niggardly provision of a stepmotherly nature, this will should wholly lack power to accomplish its purpose, if with its greatest efforts it should yet achieve nothing, and there should remain only the Good Will (not, to be sure, a mere wish, but the assuming of all means in our power), then, like a jewel, it would still shine by its own light as a thing which has its whole value in itself. Its fruitfulness or fruitlessness can neither add nor take away anything from this value."

And again he says:

"An action ... derives its moral worth not from the purpose which is to be attained by it, but from the maxim by which it is determined and therefore depends ... merely on the principle of volition by which the action has taken place, without regard to any object of desire.... The purposes which we may have in view in our actions or their effect regarded as ends and springs of will cannot give the actions an unconditional or moral worth.... It cannot lie anywhere but in the principle of the Will, without regard to the ends which can be attained by the action" (Ibid., p. 16).

Relation of Endeavor and Achievement to Will.—Here, also, we find a certain agreement with our every-day moral experience. It is undoubtedly true that in many cases we ascribe moral worth or goodness to acts without reference to the results actually attained by them; a man who tries to rescue a drowning child is not judged only on the basis of success. If he is prevented, because he is crippled, or because the current is too rapid for him, we do not refuse hearty moral approbation. We do not judge the goodness of the act or of the agent from the standpoint of its attained result, which here is failure. We regard the man as good because he proposed to himself a worthy end or aim, the rescue of another, even at the risk of harm to himself. We should agree with Kant in saying that the moral worth does not depend on the realization of the object of desire. But we should regard the worth of the man to consist precisely in the fact that, so far as he was concerned, he aimed at a good result. We do not rule out purpose, but we approve because the purpose was good. By will we mean tendencies, desires, and habits operating to realize results regarded as desirable. Will is not the sole condition of reaching a result—that is, of making the aim an actual fact. Circumstances need to coÖperate to insure a successful issue; and if these fail, the best will in the world cannot secure the transformation of desire for an end into that end. We know that sometimes it is only by accident that the desirable end is not effected, but we also know that without the proper disposition it is only by accident that the results are achieved. Moreover, we know that our own attitude is not only an important condition of securing the results, but that it is the only condition constantly under our control. What we mean by calling it "ours" is precisely that it is that condition whose operation lies with us. Accordingly, it is the key and clue to the results, so far as they concern us. So far, given desire and endeavor, achievement is not necessary to volition.

"Meaning Well."—On the other hand, can a man justify himself on the ground that he "means well," if the "meaning well" does not regulate the overt acts that he performs, and hence the consequences that proceed from them? Are we not justified in suspecting a person's good faith when his good intentions uniformly bring suffering to others? If we do not question his good faith, do we not regard him as needing moral enlightenment, and a change of disposition? We distinguish in our judgments of good between the fanatic and the thoroughly selfish man, but we do not carry this distinction to the point of approving the fanatic; of saying, "Let him alone; he means well, he has a good will, he is actuated by a sense of duty." On the contrary, we condemn his aims; and in so far we censure him for willingly entertaining ans approving them. We may, indeed, approve of his character with respect to its sincerity, singleness of aim, and its thoroughness of effort, for such things, taken by themselves, or in the abstract, are good traits of character. We esteem them highly, however, just because they have so much to do with results; they are, par excellence, executive traits. But we do not approve of the man's whole character in approving these traits. There is something the matter with the man in whom good traits are put to a bad use. It is not true in such cases that we approve the agent but condemn his acts. We approve certain phases of conduct, and in so far regard the doer as praiseworthy; we condemn other features of acts, and in so far disapprove him.[120]

Overt Action Proves Will.—Again, under what circumstances do we actually "take the will for the deed"? When do we assume that so far as the will was concerned it did aim at the result and aimed at it thoroughly, without evasion and without reservation? Only when there is some action which testifies to the real presence of the motive and aim.[121] The man, in our earlier instance, must have made some effort to save the drowning child to justify either us or himself in believing that he meant to do it; that he had the right intent. The individual who habitually justifies himself (either to others or to himself) by insisting upon the rightness of his motives, lays himself open to a charge of self-deception, if not of deliberate hypocrisy, if there are no outward evidences of effort towards the realization of his pretended motive. A habitually careless child, when blamed for some disorder or disturbance, seeks to excuse himself by saying he "didn't mean to": i.e., he had no intention or aim; the results did not flow morally from him. We often reply, in effect, "that is just the trouble; you didn't mean at all; you ought to have meant not to do this." In other words, if you had thought about what you were doing you would not have done this and would not have brought about the undesirable results. With adults there is such a thing as culpable carelessness and blameworthy negligence. So far as the individual's conscious will was concerned, everything he deliberately intended may have been entirely praiseworthy; but we blame him because his character was such that the end appropriate to the circumstances did not occur to him. We do not disapprove when the failure to think of the right purpose is due to inexperience or to lack of intellectual development; but we do blame when the man does not employ his attained experience and intellectual capacity. Given these factors, if the right end is not thought of or is quickly dismissed, indisposition is the only remaining explanation. These two facts, that we require effort or evidence of sincerity of good will and that the character is disapproved for not entertaining certain aims, are sufficient to prove that we do not identify will and motive with something which has nothing to do with "aptness for attaining ends." Will or character means intelligent forethought of ends and resolute endeavor to achieve them. It cannot be conceived apart from ends purposed and desired.

§ 2. THE "INTENTION" OF THE UTILITARIANS

Emphasis of Utilitarians upon Ends.—We are brought to the opposite type of moral theory, the utilitarian, which finds moral quality to reside in consequences, that is to say, in the ends achieved. To the utilitarians, motive means simply certain states of consciousness which happen to be uppermost in a man's mind as he acts. Not this subjective feeling existing only in the inner consciousness, but the external outcome, the objective change which is made in the common world, is what counts. If we can get the act done which produces the right sort of changes, which brings the right kind of result to the various persons concerned, it is irrelevant and misleading to bother with the private emotional state of the doer's mind. Murder would be none the less murder even if the consciousness of the killer were filled with the most maudlin sentiments of general philanthropy; the rescue of a drowning man would be none the less approvable even if we happened to know that the consciousness of the rescuer were irritable and grumpy while he was performing the deed. Acts, not feelings, count, and acts mean changes actually effected.[122]

Distinction of Intention from Motive.—The utilitarians make their point by distinguishing between intention and motive, attributing moral value exclusively to the former. According to them, intention is what a man means to do; motive is the personal frame of mind which indicates why he means to do it. Intention is the concrete aim, or purpose; the results which are foreseen and wanted. Motive is the state of mind which renders these consequences, rather than others, interesting and attractive. The following quotations are typical. Bentham says concerning motives:

"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:

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 that which makes a man will 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 of the 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 dispositions from which one acts and results for which 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 there is 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 the outcome foreseen and wanted; motive, this outcome as foreseen and wanted. But the voluntary act, as such, is an outcome, forethought and desired, and hence attempted.

This discussion brings out the positive truth for which Bentham and Mill stand: viz., that the 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 not need to be measured or tested by noting the consequences which flow from them, so sacred that they justify an act no 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 the objective 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, motives make intentions.

Influence of Interest on Ideas.—"Purpose is but the slave of memory." We can anticipate this or that only as 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]

This quotation refers to a strong passion. It is important to note that 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 central factor 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, what one will, to motive, why he 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.

§ 3. CONDUCT AND CHARACTER

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 the agent, especially if it indicates a good or a bad habitual disposition—a bent of character from which useful, or from which hurtful, actions are likely to arise." To like effect Bentham:

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 man will 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 that after thinking 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 may most 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 that entire character 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 the general trend of the issue, ignoring contributing and indirect causes. All assigned motives are more or less post-mortem affairs. No actuating motive 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.

§ 4. MORALITY OF ACTS AND OF AGENTS

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 or vice-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 the conduct, 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 as morally good (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 evil upon 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 complexities of 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 in subsequent acts consequences of prior acts 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 the growth 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.