CHAPTER VI ETHICS

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INTRODUCTION : Difficulties of the moral problem as presented in the nineteenth century—Recognised as a social problem—Influence of Comte important in this connection—Other influences—Christianity—Kant—The practical reason.

I. Taine and Renan—Renan’s critique of Christian morality—Early socialistic views—Change in his later life—Prefers criterion of beauty to that of goodness.

II. Renouvier the great moralist of our period—Relation to Kant —His Science de la Morale—Personality in Ethics—Justice.

III. FouillÉe, Guyau, OllÉ-Laprune and Rauh pass further from the Kantian rigorism to an ethic in harmony with the philosophy of idÉes-forces of life and action—Humanitarianism of FouillÉe and Guyau—IdÉes-forces and Morale sans Obligation ni Sanction —Rauh’s doctrines—Other thinkers.

CONCLUSION: Action and belief—Ethics and Religion.

Moral philosophy is probably the most difficult branch of those various disciplines of the human spirit summed up in the general conception of philosophy. This difficulty is one which all the thinkers of our period recognised. Many of them, occupied with other problems on the psychological or metaphysical side, did not write explicitly upon ethics. Yet the problem of ethics, its place, significance and authority, is but the other side of that problem of freedom which has appeared throughout this development as central and vital. The ethical consciousness of man has never been content for long with the assertion that ethics is a purely positive science, although it has obviously a positive side. The essence of morality has been regarded as not merely a description of what exists, but what might, should or ought to exist. Ethics is normative, it erects or endeavours to outline a standard which is an ideal standard. This is the characteristic of ethics, and so long as the moral conscience of humanity, individually and collectively, does not slumber nor die, it will remain so. This conflict between the ideal and the real, the positive and normative is indeed the chief source of pain and conflict to man, but without it he would cease to be human.

Whatever the difficulties, the philosopher who aspires to look upon human life as a whole must give some interpretation of this vital aspect of human consciousness. It is in this connection that a solution of the problem of freedom is so valuable, for under a purely determinist and positivist reading of life, the moral sentiments become mere data for an anthropological survey, the hope and tragedy of human life are replaced, comfortably perhaps for some, by an interpretation in which the true significance of ethics is lost.

One of the outstanding features of the discussion upon ethics in our period is the fact that the social standpoint colours most of the discussion. This was largely due to the impulse given by Comte and continued by the sociologists. We have already remarked the importance which he attached to his new science of society or “sociology.” However much the development of this branch of study may have disappointed the hopes of Comte, it has laid a powerful and necessary emphasis upon the solidarity of the problems of society. As Comte claimed that psychology could not be profitably studied in the isolated individual alone, so he insisted that ethics could only be studied with profit from a social standpoint. This was not forgotten by subsequent thinkers, even by those who were not his followers, and the main development of the ethical problem in our period is marked by an increasing insistence upon sociability and solidarity. Comte was able to turn the thoughts of philosophers away from pre-occupation with the isolated individual, conceived as a cold and calculating intellectual machine, a “fiction” which had engrossed the minds of thinkers of the previous century. He was able also to indicate the enormous part played by instincts, particularly “herd-instincts,” by passion and feelings of social hatred and social sympathy. It was the extension of social sympathy upon which Comte insisted as the chief good. The great defect of Christianity from an ethical standpoint was, Comte pointed out, due to its individualistic ethic. To the doctrine of “saving one’s own soul” Comte opposed that of the salvation of humanity. The social unit is not the individual man or woman, it is the family. In that society which is not a mere association but a union, arising from common interests and sympathy, the individual realises himself as part of society. The highest ethical conception, however, arises when the individual, transcending himself and his family, feels and acts as a member of humanity itself, not only in his public, but also in his private life. In the idea of humanity Comte finds the concrete form of that universal which in the ethic of Kant was the symbol of duty itself.

It was by this insistence on human social solidarity that Comte left his mark upon the ethical problem. Many of the details of social ethics given in the last three large volumes of his work are extremely thoughtful and interesting, in spite of their excessive optimism, but we can only here indicate what is sufficient for our purpose, his influence over subsequent thought. That is summed up in the words “solidarity” and “social standpoint.”

We may observe that the supreme problems in social ethics Comte regarded as being those of education or mental development and the “right to work.”[1] He foresaw, as did Renan, that Culture and Economic Justice were the two foci around which the ethical problems were to be ranged in the immediate future. He regretted that the proletariat in their cry for justice had not sufficient culture to observe that they themselves are not a class apart, however class-conscious they be. They stand solid with the community, and Comte prophesied that, finding this out sooner or later, they would have to realise the folly of violent revolution. Only a positive culture or education of the democracy could, he believed, solve this social problem, which is there precisely because the proletariat are not sufficiently, and do not feel themselves to be, incorporated in the life of the community or of humanity. Only when they realise this will work be ennobled by a feeling of service. The Church has a moral advantage here, in that she has her organisation complete for furthering the conception of service to God. Comte realised this advantage of religious morality, but he thought it would come also to “positive” morality when men came to a conception of service for humanity To this great end, he urged, our education should be directed, and it should aim, he thought, at the decline and elimination of militarism which, in Comte’s view corresponds to the second stage of development (marked also by theology), a stage to be superseded in man’s development, by an era in which the war-spirit will be replaced by that of productive service performed not only pour la patrie, but pour l’humanitÉ.

[1] Comte criticised the teaching given to the young in France as being “instruction” rather than “education.” This has frequently been insisted upon since his time.

In viewing the general influences which bore upon the study of the ethical problem in our period this stress upon the social character of morality is supreme, and is the most distinctly marked. But in addition to the sociological influence there are others which it is both interesting and important to note briefly. There is the influence of traditional religious morality, bound up with Christianity as presented by the Roman Catholic Church. The deficiencies of this are frequently brought out in the discussion, but in certain of the thinkers, chiefly the “modernists,” it appears as an influence contributing to a religious morality and as offering, indeed, the basis of a religion. Other writers, however, while rejecting the traditional morality of the Church, lay stress upon a humanitarian ethic which has an affinity to the idealistic morality preached by the founder of Christianity, a morality which manifests a spirit different from that which his Church has usually shown. Indeed, the general tendency of the ethical development in our period is one of opposition to the ecclesiastical and traditional standpoint in ethics.

Then there is the influence of Kant’s ethics, and here again, although Renouvier owed much to Kant, the general tendency is to get away from the formalism and rigorism of his “categorical imperative.” The current of English Utilitarian ethics appears as rather a negative influence, and is rather scorned when mentioned. The common feature is that of the social standpoint, issuing in conceptions of social justice or humanitarianism and finding in action and life a concrete morality which is but the reflection of the living conscience of mankind creating itself and finding in the claims of the practical reason that Absolute or Ideal to which the pure reason feels it cannot alone attain.

I

Taine and Renan were influenced by the outlook adopted by Comte. It might well be said that Taine was more strictly positivist than Comte. In his view of ethics, Taine, as might be expected from the general character of his work and his philosophical attitude, adheres to a rigidly positivist and naturalist conception. He looks upon ethics as purely positive, since it merely states the scientific conditions of virtue and vice, and he despairs of altering human nature or conduct. This is due almost entirely to his doctrine of rigid determinism which reacts with disastrous consequences upon his ethical outlook. This only further confirms our contention that the problem of freedom is the central and vital one of the period. We have already pointed out the criticism which FouillÉe brought against Taine’s dogmatic belief in determinism, as an incomplete doctrine, a half-truth, which involves mischievous consequences and permits of no valuable discussion of the ethical problem.

More interesting and useful, if we are to follow at all closely the ethical thought of our period, is it to observe the attitude adopted to ethics by Taine’s contemporary, Renan.

The extreme confidence which Renan professed to have in “science,” and indeed in all intellectual pursuits, led him to accord to morality rather a secondary place. “There are three great things,” he remarks in his Discours et ConfÉrences,[2] “goodness, beauty and truth, and the greatest of these is truth.” Neither virtue, he continues, nor art is able to exclude illusions. Truth is the representation of reality, and in this world the search for truth is the most serious occupation of all. One of his main charges against the Christian Church in general is that it has insisted upon moral good to such an extent as to undervalue and depreciate the other goods, expressed in beauty and in truth. It has looked upon life from one point of view only—namely, the moral—and has judged all action by ethical values alone, despising in this way philosophy, science, literature, poetry, painting and music. In its more ascetic moods it has claimed that these things are “of the devil.” Thus Christianity has introduced a vicious distinction which has done much to mutilate human nature and to cramp the wholesome expression of the life of the human spirit. Whatever is an expression of spirit is, claims Renan, to be looked upon as sacred. If such a distinction as that of sacred and profane were to be drawn it should be between what appertains to the soul and what does not. The distinction, when made between the ethical and the beautiful or true, is disastrous.

[2] Discours, dated November 26th, 1885.

Renan considers that of the two, the ethical and the beautiful, the latter may be the finer and grander distinction, the former merely a species of it. The moral, he thinks, will give place to the beautiful. “Before any action,” he himself says in L’Avenir de la Science, “I prefer to ask myself, not whether it be good or bad, but whether it be beautiful or ugly, and I feel that I have in this an excellent criterion.”

Morality, he further insists, has been conceived up to now in far too rigid a manner as obedience to a law, as a warfare and strife between opposing laws. But the really virtuous man is an artist who is creating beauty, the beauty of character, and is fashioning it out of his human nature, as the sculptor fashions a statue out of marble or a musician composes a melody from sounds. Neither the sculptor nor the musician feels that he is obeying a law. He is expressing and creating beauty.

Another criticism which Renan brings against the ethic of Christianity is its insistence upon humility as a virtue. He sees nothing virtuous in it as it is generally interpreted: quite rightly he suspects it of hypocritically covering a gross pride, after the manner of the Pharisees. He gives a place to honest asceticism which has its nobility, even although it be a narrow, misconceived ideal. Much nobler is it, he thinks, than the type of life which has only one object, getting a fortune.

This leads him to another remark on the moral hypocrisy of so many professedly religious folk. Having an easy substance and possessing already a decent share of this world’s goods, they devote all their energies to the pursuit of pleasure or of further superfluous wealth. From this position they criticise the worker who endeavours to improve his lot, and have the audacity to tell him in pious fashion that he must not be materialistic, and must not set his heart on this world’s goods. It would be laughable were it not so tragic. The whole question of the relativity of the two positions is overlooked, the whole ethic of the business ignored. Material welfare is good and valuable, says Renan, in so far as it frees man’s spirit from mean and wretched dependence and a cramped life which injures development, physical and spiritual. These goods are a means to an end. When, therefore, a man, already comfortably endowed, amasses more and more for its own sake, he commits both a profane and immoral act. But when a worker endeavours to augment his recompense for his labour, he is but demanding “what is the condition of his redemption. He is performing a virtuous action.”[3]

[3] L’Avenir de la Science, p. 83.

Sound as many of these considerations undoubtedly are, they come from the Renan, who wrote in the years 1848-9 L’Avenir de la Science. He lived long enough to see that these truths had complements, that there might be, even ethically, another side. In speaking of Progress this has been noted: in his later years he forecasted the coming of an era of egoism, of national and industrial selfishness, working itself out in policies of military imperialism among the nations, and of economic greed and tyranny among the proletariat. His remarks about the virtuous action of the worker bettering his lot were inspired by the socialism of Saint-Simon. Renan did not at that time raise in his own mind the question of the workers themselves carrying their reaction so far, that it, although just at first, might reach a point where it became a dictatorship decreed by self-interest alone. It is in Renouvier that we find this danger more clearly indicated. In so far as Renan felt it, his solution was that which he suggested for the elimination of all social wickedness— namely, the increase of education. He looked upon wickedness as a symptom of a lack of culture, particularly the lack of any moral teaching.

It was precisely this point, the education of the democracy, morally no less than intellectually, which presented a certain difficulty to the French Republic when, after several unsuccessful attempts, the plan for state education of a compulsory, gratuitous and secular character was carried in 1882, largely through the efforts of Jules Ferry.[4]

[4] In 1848 Hippolyle Carnot had this plan ready. The fall of the Ministry, in which he was Minister of Education, was due partly to the discussion raised by Renouvier’s book (see p. 61 of the present work). With the fall of the Ministry, and in 1851, of the Republic, the scheme went too. France had to wait eleven years longer than England for free, compulsory education. Her educational problem has always been complicated by the attitude of the Roman Catholic Church to religious education and its hostility to “lay” schools. Brilliant as France is intellectually, there are numbers of her people who do not read or write owing to the delay of compulsory state education. The latest census, that of 1921, asked the question, “Savez-vous À la fois lire et Écrire?” in order to estimate this number.

II

The great moralist of our period was Renouvier. Not only, as we have already seen, did ethical considerations mark and colour his whole thought, but he set forth those considerations themselves with a remarkable power. His treatise in two volumes on The Science of Ethics is one of the most noteworthy contributions to ethical thought which has been made in modern times. Although half a century has elapsed since its publication on the eve of the Franco-Prussian War, its intense pre-occupation with the problems which beset our modern industrial civilisation, its profound judgments and discussions concerning subjects so vital to the world of to-day (such as the relations of the sexes, marriage, sex-ethics, civil liberty, property, communism, state intervention, socialist ideals, nationalism, war, the modern idea of the State, and international law), give to it a value, which very few works upon the subject possess. Long as the work is, it has the merit of thoroughness, and difficulties are not slurred over, but stated frankly, and some endeavours are made to overcome them. Consequently, it is a work which amply repays careful study. It is almost presumption to attempt in a few pages to summarise Renouvier’s important treatise. Some estimate of its significance is, however, vital to our history.

The title itself is noteworthy and must at that date have appeared more striking than it does to us now by its claim that there is a science of ethics.[5] We are accustomed to regard physics, mathematics and even logic as entitled to the name Sciences. Can we legitimately speak of a Science of Ethics?

[5] It is interesting for comparative study to note that Leslie Stephen’s Science of Ethics was a much later production than Renouvier’s treatise, appearing thirteen years later.

Renouvier insists that we can. Morality deals with facts, although they are not embraced by the categories of number, extension, duration or becoming (as mathematical and physical data), but rather by those of causality, finality and consciousness. The facts “are not the natural being of things, but the devoir-Être of the human will, the devoir-faire of persons, and the devoir-Être of things in so far as they depend upon persons.”[6] Personal effort, initiative and responsibility lie at the basis of all ethics. Morality is a construction, like every science, partly individual and partly collective; it must lay down postulates, and if it is to justify the claim to be a science, these postulates must be such as to command a consensus gentium. Further, if ethics is to be scientifically based it must be independent. In the past this has unfortunately not been the case, for history shows us ethics bound up with some system of religion or metaphysics. If ethics is to be established as a science, Renouvier points out that it must be free from all hypothesis of an irrelevant character, such as cosmological speculations and theological dogmas. Renouvier’s insistence upon the independence of ethics was followed up in an even clearer and more trenchant manner by Guyau in his famous Esquisse d’une Morale sans Obligation ni Sanction.

[6] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. 10.

Although, generally, ethics has suffered by reason of its alliance to theological and metaphysical systems, Renouvier affirms that, in this connection, there is one philosophy which is not open to objection—namely, the Critical Philosophy of Kant. This is because it subordinates all the unknown to phenomena, all phenomena to consciousness, and, within the sphere of consciousness itself, subordinates the speculative reason (reinen Vernunft) to the practical reason (praktischen Vernunft). Its chief value, according to Renouvier, lies precisely in this maintenance of the primacy of moral considerations.

Two standpoints or lines of thought which are characteristic of Renouvier, and whose presence we have already noted in our first chapter, operate also in his ethics and govern his whole treatment of the nature of morality and the problems of the moral life. Briefly stated these are, firstly, his regard for the Critical Philosophy of Kant; secondly, his view of man as “an order, a harmony of functions reciprocally conditioned, and, by this fact, inseparable.”[7] As in his treatment of Certitude, Renouvier showed this to be a psychological complex into which entered elements not only of cognition, but of feeling and will, the same insistence upon this unity of human nature meets us again in his ethics. “Any ethical doctrine which definitely splits up the elements of human nature is erroneous.”[8] Abstraction is necessary and useful for any science, even the science of ethics, but however far we may carry our scientific analysis, we must never lose sight of the fact that we are dealing with abstractions. To lose sight of the relationship of the data under observation or discussion is, indeed, working away from the goal of scientific knowledge.

[7] Science de la Morale (first edition, 1869), vol. I, p. 189.

[8] Ibid.

“Nothing,” remarks Renouvier in this connection, “has done more to hinder the spread of Kant’s doctrines in the world than his assertion that the morally good act must be performed absolutely without feeling.” In view of man as he is, and in so far as we understand human nature at all, it seems a vain and foolish statement. For Kant, Duty was supreme, and the sole criterion of a good act was, for him, its being done from a consciousness of Duty. He himself had to confess that he did not know of any act which quite fulfilled this ideal of moral action. With this view of morality Renouvier so heartily disagrees that he is inclined to think that, so far from a purely rational act (if we suppose such an act possible) being praiseworthy, he would almost give greater moral worth to an act purely emotional, whose “motive” lay, not in the idea of cold and stern Duty, but in the warm impulses of the human heart, springing from emotion or feeling alone. Emotion is a part of our nature—it has its role to play; the rational element enters as a guide or controlling power. It is desirable that all acts should be so guided, but that is far from stating, as does Kant, that they should proceed solely from rational considerations. Ultimately reason and sentiment unite in furthering the same ends. No adequate conception of justice can be arrived at which is not accompanied by, and determined by, correlatively, love of humanity. Kant rigorously excluded from operation even the most noble feelings, whose intrusion should dim the worth and glory of his moral act, devoid of feeling. But “without good-will and mutual sympathy of persons, no society could ever have established itself beyond the family, and scarcely the family itself.”[9]

[9] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. 184.

Renouvier confesses that in most of this treatment of the problem of ethics he follows Kant[10] and although his admiration for Kant’s work is not concealed, nevertheless he is not altogether satisfied with it, and does not refrain from criticism. Indeed this reconstruction of the Critical Philosophy in a revised version is the main effort of the neo-critical philosopher, and it is constantly manifest.

[10] On p. 108 (vol. I) he refers to “le philosophie que je suis, et que j’aimerais de pouvoir suivre toujours.”

He complains that Kant did not adhere rigorously to his own principles, but vainly strove to give an objectivity to the laws of the practical reason by connecting them to metaphysics. But, he says, “on the other hand I maintain that the errors of Kant can be corrected in accordance with the actual principles of his own philosophy. I continue my serious attachment to this great reformer in spite of the very serious modifications I am endeavouring to make in his work.”[11]

[11] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. no. 110.

In the opinion of Renouvier, Kant’s work, the Metaphysic of Morals, is marred by its neglect of history in its relation to ethics, by a disfigured picture of right which does not make it any more applicable to existing human conditions, also by the rather artificial and complicated nature of its doctrines. He further reproaches Kant for excessive rigorism and formalism, accompanied by a vagueness which prevents the application of much of his teaching. This, it seems to us, is a reproach which can be hurled easily at most of the ethical teachers whom the world has seen. The incessant vagueness of paradoxical elements in the utterances of such teachers has inevitably compelled their disciples to find refuge in insisting upon a “right spirit” of action, being devoid of any clear teaching as to what might constitute right action in any particular case.

The rudiments of morality, according to Renouvier, are found in the general notion of “obligation,” the sense of ought (devoir-faire) which the human consciousness cannot escape. Any end of action is conceived as a good for the agent himself; and because of liberty of choice between actions or ends, or between both, certain of these are deemed morally preferable. There are certain obligations which are purely personal, elementary virtues demanded from any rational being. It is his interest to preserve his body by abstaining from excesses; it is his interest also to conserve and develop the faculties of his nature. This is the point upon which Guyau makes such insistence in common with Nietzsche—the development, expansion and intensification of life. There are, Renouvier points out, duties towards oneself, involving constant watchfulness and intelligence, so that the agent may be truly self-possessed under all circumstances, maintaining an empire over himself and not falling a constant victim to passion. “Greater is he that ruleth himself than he that taketh a city,” are not vain words. This is the rudimentary but essential virtue which Renouvier calls “virtue militant”—moral courage. Intellectually it issues in Prudence or Wisdom; on the side of sense and passion it is represented by Temperance. These duties are present to conscience, which itself arises from a doubling of consciousness. “We have the empirical person with his experience of the past, and we have the ideal person—that is to say, that which we wish to be,”[12] our ideal character. In so far as we are conscientious we endeavour to bring “what we are” into line with “what we conceive we should be.” The moral agent thus has duties towards himself, obligations apart from any relation to or with others of his kind.

[12] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. 25.

This elementary morality is “essentially subjective,”[13] but this only shows us that the most thorough-going individualism does not by its neglect of others, its denial of altruism, thereby escape entirely from moral obligations. There are always duties to one’s higher self, even for a Robinson Crusoe. Frequently it is stated that duties and rights are co-relative; but Renouvier regards Duty as more fundamental than Right, which he uses only of man in association with his fellows. Between persons, right and duty are in a synthesis, but the person himself has no rights as distinct from duties to himself; he has no right not to do what it is his duty to perform. From this it follows that if his personal notion of obligation changes, he has no right whatever to carry out actions in accordance with his judgments made prior to his change of conscience, merely for the sake of consistency. He is in this respect a law to him- self, for no man can act as a conscience for another. The notion of rights only arises when others are in question, and only too often the word has been abused by being employed where simply power is meant, as, for example, in many views of “natural right.” This procedure both sullies the usage of the term Right and lowers the status of personality. It is always, Renouvier claims, to “the inherent worth and force of personality, with its powers of reflection, deliberation, liberty, self-possession and self-direction, that one must return in order to understand each and every virtue.”

[13] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. 81.

Renouvier’s insistence upon the inherent worth, the dignity and moral value of personality becomes clearer as he proceeds from his treatment of the lonely individual (who, it may be objected, is to such an extent an abstraction, as to resemble a fiction) to associated persons. The reciprocal relation of two persons brings out the essential meaning of Justice. Two personalities co-operating for a common end find themselves each possessed of duties and, inversely therefore, of rights which are simply duties regarded from the point of view not of the agent, but of the other party. The neo-critical ethic here brings itself definitely into line with the principle of practical reason of the Critical Philosophy. This, says Renouvier,[14] is the profound meaning of Justice, which consists in the fact that the moral agent, instead of subordinating the ends of other people to his own, considers the personalities[15] of others as similar to his own and possessing their own ends which he must respect. This principle is that which Kant formulated under the name of “practical obligation” or “supreme principle.”[16] “Recognise the personality of others as equal in nature and dignity, as being an end in itself, and consequently refrain from employing the personality of others merely as a means to achieve your own ends.”

[14] Science de la Morale, vol. I, pp. 82-83.

[15] Personality is a better translation, as it avoids the rather legal and technical meaning of “person” in English.

[16] In a footnote to this passage, Renouvier states his own preference for “moral obligation” rather than “imperative of conscience.”

This doctrine of Personalism is an assertion not only of LibertÉ, EgalitÉ, FraternitÉ as necessary and fundamental principles, but also of the value of personality in general and the relativity of “things.” It constitutes an ethical challenge to the existing state of society which is not only inclined, in its headlong pursuit of wealth, its fanatical worship of Mammon, to treat its workers as purely “means” to the attainment of its end, but further minimises personality by its legal codes and social conventions, which both operate far more readily and efficiently in the defence of property than in the defence or protection of personality. From the ethical standpoint the world is a realm of ends or persons and all other values must be adjusted in relation to these.

We have been told by religious ethical teachers that we must love our neighbour as ourself, and have been reminded by moralists continually of the conflict between Egoism and Altruism. Renouvier points out that ultimately obligation towards others is reducible to a duty to oneself. He does not do this from the point of view of Hobbes, who regarded all actions, however altruistic they appeared to be, as founded purely upon self-interest, but rather from the opposite standpoint. “We should make our duty to others rank foremost among our duties to ourselves.”[17] This is the transcendent duty through the performance of which we achieve a realisation of the solidarity of persons, demonstrate an objective value for our own existence, and gain a fuller and richer life.

[17] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. 85.

The idea of personal and moral reciprocity was formulated by the Chinese and the Greeks; at a later date it reappeared in the teaching of Jesus. This ancient and almost universal maxim has been stated both positively and negatively: “Do not to others what you would not have them do unto you,” “Do as you would be done by.” The maxim itself, however, beyond a statement of the principle of reciprocity rather vaguely put, has no great value for the science of ethics. Renouvier regards it not as a principle of morality but a rule-of-thumb, and he considers the negative statement of it to be more in harmony with what was intended by the early ethical teachers—namely, to give a practical warning against the committing of evil actions rather than to establish a scientific principle of right action.

Renouvier has shown the origin of the notion of Justice as arising primarily from an association of two persons. “Reason established a kind of community and moral solidarity in this reciprocity.”[18] This right and duty unite to constitute Justice. It is truly said that it is just to fulfil one’s duty, just to demand one’s right, and Justice is formed by a union of these two in such a manner that they always complement one another. Bearing in mind the doctrine of personality as an end, we get a general law of action which may be stated in these terms: “Always act in such a way that the maxim applicable to your act can be erected by your conscience into a law common to you and your associate.” Now to apply this to an association of any number of persons—e g., human society as a whole—we need only generalise it and state it in these terms: “Act always in such a way that the maxim of your conduct can be erected by your conscience into a universal law or formulated in an article of legislation which you can look upon as expressing the will of every rational being.” This “categorical obligation” is the basis of ethics. It stands clear of hypothetical cases as a general law of action, and “there is no such thing really as practical morality,” remarks Renouvier, “except by voluntary obedience to a law.”[19]

[18] Ibid., pp. 79-80.

[19] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. 100.

The fulfilment of our duties to ourselves generally tends to fit us for fulfilling our duties to others, and the neglect of the former will lead inevitably to inability to perform these latter. Our duty to others thus involves our duty to ourselves.[20]

[20] The notion of self-sacrifice itself involves also, to a degree, the maintenance of self, without which there could be no self to sacrifice. History has frequently given examples of men of all types refusing to sacrifice their lives for a certain cause because they wished to preserve them for some other (and possibly better—in their minds at any rate, better) form of self-sacrifice.

Personality which lies at the root of the moral problem demands Truth and Liberty, and it has a right to these two, for without them it is injured. They are essential to a society of persons. Another vital element in society is Work, the neglect of which is a grave immoral act, for as there is in any society a certain amount of necessary work to be performed, a “slacker” dumps his share upon his fellows to perform in addition to their own share. With industrial or general laziness, and the parasitism of those whose riches enable them to live without working, is to be condemned also the shirking of intellectual work by all. Quite apart from those who are “intellectuals” as such, a solemn duty of work, of thought, reflection and reasoning lies on each person in a society. Apathy among citizens is really a form of culpable negligence. The duty of work and thought is so vital and of such ethical, political and social importance that Renouvier suggests that the two words, work and duty, be regarded as synonyms. It might, he thinks, make clearer to many the obligation involved.

Justice has been made clear in the foregoing remarks, but in view of Kant’s distinction of “large” and “strict” duties, Renouvier raises the question of the relation of Justice and Goodness. He concludes that acts proceeding from the latter are to be distinguished from Justice. They proceed not from considerations of persons as such, but from their “nature” or common humanity, and are near to being “duties to oneself.” They are of the heart rather than of the head, proceeding from sentiments of humanity, and sentiment is not, strictly speaking, the foundation of justice, which is based on the notions of duties and rights. There can be, therefore, an opposition of Justice and of Goodness (Kindness or Love), and the sphere of the latter is often limited by considering the former. Renouvier recognises the fact that Justice in the moral sense of recognition and respect for personality is itself often “constitutionally and legally” violated in societies by custom, laws and institutions as well as by members of society in their actions, and he notes that this “legal” injustice makes the problem of the relation of Justice and Charity excessively difficult.

The science of ethics is faced with a double task owing to the nature of man’s evolution and history. Human societies have been built upon a basis which is not that of justice and right, but upon the basis of force and tyranny—in short, upon war. There is, therefore, for the moralist the twin duty of constructing laws and principles for the true society founded upon an ethical basis, that is to say on conceptions of Justice, while at the same time he must give practical advice to his fellows living and striving in present society, where a continual state of war exists owing to the operation of force and tyranny in place of justice, and he must so apply his principles that they may be capable of moving this unjust existing society progressively towards the ideal society.

In our account of Renouvier’s “Philosophy of History” we brought out his insistence upon war as the essential feature of man’s life on this planet, as the basis of our present “civilisation.” Here he proclaims it again in his ethics.[21] War reigns everywhere: it is around us and within us—individuals, families, tribes, classes, nations and races. He includes in the term much more than open fighting with guns. The distribution of wealth, of property (especially of land), wages, custom duties, diplomacy, fraud, violence, bigotry, orthodoxy, and persecution, lies themselves, are all, to him, forms of war. Its most ludicrous stronghold is among men who pride themselves on being at peace with all men, while they force their idea of God upon other men’s consciences. Religious intolerance is one, and a very absurd kind of warfare.[22]

[21] Science de la Morale, vol. I, p. 332.

[22] Renouvier sums up its spirit in the words: “Crois ce que je crois moi, oÙ je te tue” (La Nouvelle Monadologie).

The principle of justice confers upon the person a certain “right of defence” in the midst of all this existing varied warfare of mankind. It involves, according to Renouvier, resistance. The just man cannot stand by and see the unjust man oppress his fellow so that the victim is “obliged to give up his waistcoat after having had his coat torn from him.” Otherwise we must confuse the just with the saintly man who only admits one law—namely, that of sacrifice. But Renouvier will have us be clear as to the price involved in all this violent resistance. It means calling up powers of evil, emissaries of injustice. He does not found his “right of defence” on rational right; it is to misconceive it so to found it. We must recognise the use of violence and force, even in self-defence, as in itself evil, an evil necessitated by facts which do not conform to the rules of peace and justice themselves. It is to a large degree necessary, unfortunately, but is none the less evil and to be frankly regarded as evil, and likely to multiply evil in the world, owing to the tremendous solidarity of wickedness of which Renouvier has already spoken in history. It is the absence of the reign of justice which necessitates these conflicts, and we have to content ourselves with a conception of actual “right,” a conception already based on war, not with one of “rational right” or justice.

Right in the true sense, Renouvier insists, belongs to a state of peace; in a state of war, such as our civilisation is perpetually in, it cannot be realised. The objection may be made that Renouvier is then justifying the means by the end. He emphatically denies this. By no means is this the case, for “the evil,” he remarks, “which corrects another evil does not therefore become good; it may be useful, but it is none the less evil, immoral, or unjust, and what is not just is not justifiable. Wars, rebellions, revolutions may lessen certain evils, but they do not thereby cease to be any the less evils themselves. Morally we are obliged to avoid all violence; a revolution is only justified if its success gives an indication of its absolute necessity. We must lament, from the standpoint of ethics or justice, the evil state of affairs which gives rise to it.[23]

[23] On this point, it is interesting to compare with the above the views of Spinoza in his Tractatus Theologico-politicus and Tractatus-politicus, and those of T. H. Green in his Lectures on Political Obligation.

Renouvier devotes a considerable portion of his treatise to problems of domestic morals, economic questions and problems of a political and international character. In all these discussions, however, he maintains as central his thesis of the supremacy of personality.

Under droit domestique he defends very warmly the right of the woman and the wife to treatment as a personality. He laments particularly the injustice which usually rules in marriage, where, under a cloak of legality, the married man denies to his wife a personal control of her own body and the freedom of self-determination in matters of sexual intercourse. So unjust and loathsome in its violation of the personality of woman is the modern view of marriage that Renouvier considers it little better than polygamy (which is often a better state for women than monogamy) or prostitution. It is less just than either, owing to its degradation of the personality of the wife. He remarked too in his Nouvelle Monadologie that love (in the popular sense), being so largely an affair of passion and physical attraction, is usually unjust, and that friendship is a better basis for the relationship of marriage, which should be, while it lasts among mankind, one of justice.[24] Consequently, it should involve neither the idea of possession nor of obedience, but of mutual comradeship.

[24] See particularly the notes in La Nouvelle Monadologie appended to the fourth part, “Passion,” pp. 216-222.

In the economic sphere Renouvier endeavours to uphold freedom, and for this reason he is an enemy of communism. Hostile to the communistic doctrine of property, he is a definite defender of property which he considers to be a necessity of personality. He considers each person in the community entitled to property as a guarantee of his own liberty and development. While disagreeing with communism, Renouvier is sympathetic to the socialist view that property might be, and should be, more justly distributed, and he advocates means to limit excessive possession by private persons and to “generalise” the distribution of the goods of the community among its members. Progressive taxation, a guarantee of the “right to work” and a complete system of insurance are among his suggestions. He is careful, however, to avoid giving to the state too much power.

Renouvier was no lover of the state. While regarding it as necessary under present conditions, he agrees with the anarchist idealists, to whom government is an evil. He admits its use, however, as a guarantor of personal liberty, but is against any semblance of state- worship. The state is not a person, nor is it, as it exists at present, a moral institution. One of the needs of modern times is, he points out, the moralising of the conception of the state, and of the state itself. Although, therefore, he has no a priori objection to state interference in the economic sphere, and would not advocate a mere laissez-faire policy, with its vicious consequences, yet he does not look with approval upon such interference unless it be “the collective expression of the personalities forming the community.”

The fact of living in a society, highly organised although it be, does not diminish at all the moral significance of personality. Rights and duties belong essentially to persons and to them only. We must beware of the political philosophy which regards the citizens as existing only for the state. Rather the state exists, or should exist, for the welfare of the citizens. In the past this was a grave defect of military despotisms, and was well illustrated by the view of the state taken, or rather inculcated, by German political philosophy. In the future the danger of the violation of personality may lie, Renouvier thinks, in another direction—namely, in the establishment of Communistic states. The basic principle of his ethic is the person as an end in himself, and the treatment of persons as ends. If this be so, a Communistic Republic which has as its motto “Each for all,” without also “All for each,” may gravely violate personality and the moral law if, by constraint, it treats all its citizens and their efforts not as ends in themselves, but merely means to the collective ends of all.

The moral ideal demands that personality must not be obliterated. Personality bound up with “autonomy of reason” is the fundamental ethical fact.[25] In the last resort, responsibility rests upon the individuals of the society for the evils of the system of social organisation under which they live. The state itself cannot be regarded as a moral person. Renouvier opposes strongly any doctrine which tends to the personalisation or the deification of the state.

[25] Note that Renouvier prefers this term to Kant’s “autonomy of will,” which he thinks confuses moral obligation and free-will.

He combats also the modern doctrines of “nationality,” and claims that even the idea of the state is a higher one, for it at any rate involves co-operating personalities, while a nation is a fiction, of which no satisfactory definition can be given. He laughs at the “unity of language, race, culture and religion,” and asks where we can find a nation?[26] War and death have long since destroyed such united and harmonious groups as were found in ancient times.

[27] Science de la Morale, vol. 2, chap. xcvi, “IdÉes de la NationalitÉ et d’Etat,” pp. 416-427.

In approaching the questions of international morality Renouvier makes clear that there is only one morality, one code of justice. Morality cannot be divided against itself, and there cannot be an admission that things which are immoral in the individual are justifiable, or permissible, between different states. Morality has not been applied to these relationships, which are governed by aggressive militarism and diplomacy, the negation of all conceptions of justice. Ethical obligation has only a meaning and significance for personalities, and our states do but reflect the morality of those who constitute them; our world reflects the relationships and immorality of the states. War characterises our whole civilisation, domestic, economic and international. To have inter- national peace, internal peace is essential, and this pre- supposes the reign of justice within states. War we shall have with us, Renouvier reminds us, in all its forms, in our institutions, our laws and customs, until it has disappeared from our hearts. Treaties of “peace” and federations or leagues of nations are themselves based on injustice and on force, and in this he sees but another instance of the “terrible solidarity of evil.”[28] Better it is to recognise this, thinks Renouvier, than to consider ourselves in, or even near, a Utopia, whence human greed and passion have fled.

[28] Science de la Morale, vol. 2, p. 474.

We find in Renouvier’s ethics a notable reversion to the individualism which characterised the previous century. Much of the individualistic tone of his work is, however, due to his finding himself in opposition to the doctrines preached by communists, positivists, sociologists, pessimistic and fatalistic historians, and supporters of the deified state. Renouvier acclaims the freedom of the individual, but his individualism is “personalism.” In proclaiming that the basis of justice and of all morality is respect for personality, as such, he has no desire to set up a standard of selfish individualism; he wishes only to combat those heretical doctrines which would minimise and crush personality. For him the moral “person” is not an isolated individual—he is a social human being, free and responsible, who lives with his fellows in society. Only upon a recognition of personality as a supreme value can justice or peace ever be attained in human society; and it is to this end that all moral education, Renouvier advocates, should tend. The moral ideal should be, in practice, the constant effort to free man from the terrible solidarity of evil which characterises the civilisation into which he is born, and to establish a community or association of personalities. Such an ideal does not lie necessarily at the end of a determined evolution; Renouvier’s views on history and progress have shown us that. Consequently it depends upon us; it is our duty to believe in its possibility and to work, each according to his or her power, for its realisation. The ideal or the idea, will, in so far as it is set before self-conscious personalities as an end, become a force. Renouvier agrees on this point with FouillÉe, to whose ethic, founded on the conception of idÉes-forces, we now turn.

III

The philosophy of idÉe-forces propounded by FouillÉe assumes, in its ethical aspect, a role of reconciliation (which is characteristic, as we have noted, of his whole method and his entire philosophy) by attempting a synthesis of individualism and humanitarianism. It is therefore another kind of personnalisme, differing in type from that of Renouvier. FouillÉe’s full statement of his ethical doctrines was not written until the year 1907,[29] but long before the conclusion of the nineteenth century he had already indicated the essential points of his ethics. The conclusion of his thesis La LibertÉ et le DÉterminisme (1872) is very largely filled with his ethical views and with his optimism. Four years later appeared his study L’IdÉe moderne du Droit en Allemagne, en Angleterre et en France, which was followed in 1880 by La Science sociale contemporaine, where the relation of the study of ethics to that of sociology was discussed. A volume containing much acute criticism of current ethical theories was his Critique des SystÈmes de Morale contemporains (1883), which gave him a further opportunity of offering by way of contrast his application of the doctrine of idÉes-forces to the solution of moral problems. To this he added in the following year a study upon La PropriÉtÉ sociale et la DÉmocratie, where he discussed the ethical value and significance of various political and socialist doctrines. Ethical questions raised by the problems of education he discussed in his L’Enseignement au Point de Vue national (1891). At the close of the century he issued his book on morality in his own country, La France au Point de Vue morale (1900).[30]

[29] His Morale des IdÉes-forces was then published.

[30] It is interesting to note the wealth of FouillÉe’s almost annual output on ethics alone in his later years. We may cite, in the twentieth century: La RÉforme de l’Enseignement par la Philosophie, 1901; La Conception morale et critique de l’Enseignement; Nietzsche et l’Immoralisme, 1904; Le Moralisme de Kant et l’Amoralisme contemporaine, 1905; Les ElÉments sociologiques de la Morale, 1905; La Morale des IdÉes-forces, 1907; Le Socialisme, 1910; La DÉmocratie politique et sociale en France, 1910; and the posthumous volume, Humanitaires et Libertaires au Point de Vue sociologique et morale, 1914.

FouillÉe endeavours to unite the purely ideal aspect of ethics—that is to say, its notion of what ought to be, with the more positive view of ethics as dealing with what now is. His ethic is, therefore, an attempt to relate more intimately the twin spheres of Renouvier, l’État de guerre with l’État de paix, for it is concerned not only with what is, but with that which tends to be and which can be by the simple fact that it is thought. As, however, what can be is a matter of intense interest to us, we are inevitably led from this to consider what ought to be—that is to say, what is better, or of more worth or value. The ethical application of the philosophy of idÉes-forces is at once theoretical and practical, that philosophy being concerned both with ideas and values.

As in his treatment of freedom we found FouillÉe beginning with the idea of freedom, so here in a parallel manner he lays down the idea of an end of action as an incontestable fact of experience, although the existence of such an end is contested and is a separate question. This idea operates in consciousness as a power of will (volontÉ de conscience). Intelligence, power, love and happiness-in short, the highest conscious life—are involved in it, not only for us, but for all. Thus it comes about that the conscious subject, just because he finds himself confronted by nature and by over-individual ends, proposes to himself an ideal, and imposes at the same time upon himself the obligation to act in conformity with this full consciousness which is in all, as in him, and thus he allows universal consciousness to operate in his own individual life. Here we have conscience, the idea of duty or obligation, accounted for, and the principle of autonomy of the moral person laid down. The ethical life is shown as the conscious will in action, finding within itself its own end and rule of action, finding also the conscious wills of others like itself. Morality is the indefinite extension of the conscious will which brings about the condition that others tend to become “me.” Through the increasing power of intellectual disinterestedness and social sympathy, the old formula “cogito, conscius sum” gives place to that of “conscii sumus,” and this is no mere intellectual speculation, but a concrete principle of action and feeling which is itself akin to the highest and best in all religions.

One of the features of this ethic is its insistence upon the primacy of self-consciousness. Indeed, it has its central point in the doctrine of self-consciousness, which, according to FouillÉe, implies the consciousness of others and of the whole unity of mankind. Emphasising his gospel of idÉes-forces, he outlines a morality in which the ideal shall attract men persuasively, and not dominate them in what he regards as the arbitrary and rather despotic manner of Kant.

By advocating the primacy of self-consciousness FouillÉe claims to establish an ethic which towers above those founded upon pleasure, happiness and feeling. The morality of the idÉes-forces is not purely sentimental, not purely intellectual, not purely voluntarist; it claims to rest on the totality of the functions of consciousness, as revealed in the feelings, in intellect and will, acting in solidarity and in harmony.

He endeavours to unite the positive and evolutionary views of morality to those associated with theological or metaphysical doctrines, concerning the deity or the morally perfect absolute. He claims, against the theologians and on behalf of the positivists, that ethics can be an independent study, that it is not necessarily bound up with theological dogmas. There is no need to found the notion of duty upon that of the existence of God. Our own existence is sufficient; the voice of conscience is within our human nature. He objects, as did Nietzsche, to the formality and rigour of Kant’s “categorical imperative.” His method is free from the legalism of Kant, and in him and Guyau is seen an attempt to relate morality itself to life, expanding and showing itself creative of ideals and tending to their fulfilment.

From the primacy of self-consciousness which can be expressed in the notion, Je pense, donc j’ai une valeur morale, a transition is made to a conception of values. Je pense, donc j’evalue des objets. The essential element in the psychology of the idees-forces then comes into play by tending to the realisation of the ideals conceived and based on the valuation previously made. Finally, FouillÉe claims that on this ethical operation of the idÉes-forces can be founded the notion of a universal society of consciences. This notion itself is a force operating to create that society. The ideal is itself persuasive, and Fouillee’s inherent optimism, which we have observed in his doctrine of progress, colours also his ethical theory. He has faith in men’s capacity to be attracted by the ideals of love and brotherhood, and insists that in the extension of these lies the supreme duty, and the ideal, like the notion of duty itself, is a creation of our own thought. The realisation of the universality, altruism, love and brotherhood of which he speaks, depends upon our action, our power to foster ideas, to create ideals, particularly in the minds of the young, and to strive ever for their realisation. This is the great need of our time, FouillÉe rightly urges.[31] Such a morality contains in a more concentrated form, he thinks, the best that has been said and thought in the world-religions; it achieves also that union of the scientific spirit with the aspirations of man, which FouillÉe regards as so desirable, and he claims for it a philosophical value by its success in uniting the subjective and personal factors of consciousness with those which are objective and universal.

[31] The work of Benjamin Kidd should be compared in this connection, particularly his Social Evolution, 1894; Principles of Western Civilisation, 1902; and The Science of Power, 1918 (chap, v., “The Emotion of the Ideal”).

Similar in several respects to the ethical doctrines of FouillÉe are those of his step-son. Guyau insists more profoundly, however, upon the “free” conception of morality, as spontaneous and living, thus marking a further reaction from Kant’s doctrine. Both FouillÉe and Guyau interacted upon one another in their mental relationship, and both of them (particularly Guyau) have affinities with Nietzsche, who knew their work. While the three thinkers are in revolt against the Kantian conception of ethics, the two Frenchmen use their conceptions to develop an ethic altruistic in character, far removed from the egoism which characterises the German.[32]

[32] We find the optimism and humanitarian idealism of the Frenchmen surprising. May not this be piecisely because the world has followed the gospel of Nietzsche? We may dislike him, but he is a greater painter of the real state of world-morality than are the two Frenchmen. They, with their watchword of fraternitÉ, are proclaiming a more excellent way they are standing for an ethical ideal of the highest type.

Guyau, after showing in his critique of English Ethics (La Morale anglaise contemporaine, 1879) the inadequacies of a purely utilitarian doctrine of morality, endeavoured to set forth in a more constructive manner the principles of a scientific morality in his Esquisse d’une Morale sans Obligation ni Sanction.

He takes as his starting-point the position where John Stuart Mill fell foul of the word “desirable.” What, asks Guyau, is the supreme desire of every living creature? The answer to this question is “Life.” What we all of us desire most and constantly is Life, the most intensive and extensive in all its relationships, physical and spiritual. In the principle of Life we find cause and end—a unity which is a synthesis of all desires and all desirables. Moreover, the concept or the principle of Life embraces all functions of our nature—those within consciousness and those which are subconscious or unconscious. It thus relates intimately purely instinctive action and reflective acts, both of which are manifestations of Life and can enrich and increase its power.

The purely hedonistic views of the Utilitarians he considers untrue. Doubtless, he admits, there is a degree of truth in the doctrine that consciousness tends to pursue the line of greatest pleasure or least resistance, but then we must remember how slight a part this consciousness actually plays. Instincts and an intensive subconscious “will-to-live” are constantly operating. A purely scientific ethic, if it is to present a complete scheme, must allow for this by admitting that the purely hedonistic search after pleasure is not in itself a cause of action, but is an effect of a more fundamental or dominating factor. This factor is precisely the effort of Life to maintain itself, to intensify itself and expand. The chief motive power lies in the “intensity of Life.” “The end which actually determines all conscious action is also the cause which produces every unconscious action; it is Life itself, Life at once the most intense and the most varied in its forms. From the first thrill of the embryo in its mother’s womb to the last convulsion of the old man, every movement of the being has had as cause Life in its evolution; this universal cause of actions is, from another point of view, its constant effect and end.”[33]

[33] Esquisse d’une Morale, p. 87.

A true ethic proceeding upon the recognition of these principles is scientific, and constitutes a science having as its object all the means by which Life, material and spiritual, may be conserved and expanded. Rising in the evolutionary development we find the variety and scope of action increased. The highest beings find rest not in sleep merely, but in variety and change of action. The moral ideal lies in activity, in all the variety of its manifestations. For Guyau, as for Bergson, the worst vice is idleness, inertia, lack of Élan vital, decay of personal initiative, and a consequent degeneration to merely automatic existence.

Hedonism is quite untenable as a principle; pleasure is merely a consequence, and its being set in the van of ethics is due to a false psychology and false science. Granting that pleasure attends the satisfaction of a desire, pain its repression, recognising that a feeling of pleasure accompanies many actions which expand life, we must live, as Guyau reminds us, before we enjoy. The activity of life surges within us, and we do not act with a view to pleasure or with pleasure as a motive, but life, just because it is life, seeks to expand. Man in acting has created his pleasures and his organs. The pleasure and the organ alike proceed from function—that is, life itself. The pleasure of an action and even the consciousness of it are attributes, not ends. The action arises naturally from the inherent intensity of life.

The hedonists, too, says Guyau, have been negligent of the widest pleasures, and have frequently confined their attention to those of eating and drinking and sexual intercourse, purely sensitive, and have neglected those of living, willing and thinking, which are more fundamental as being identical with the consciousness of life. But Guyau asserts that, as the greatest intensity of life involves necessarily its widest expansion, we must give special attention to thought and will and feeling, which bring us into touch universally with our fellows and promote the widest life. This expansiveness of life has great ethical importance. With the change in the nature of reproduction, involving the sexual union of two beings, “a new moral phase began in the world.” It involved an expansion not merely physical, but mental—a union, however crude, of soul.

It is in the extension of this feature of human life that Guyau sees the ethical ideal. The most perfect organism is the most sociable, for the ideal of the individual life is the common or social life. Morality is for him almost synonymous with sociability, disinterestedness, love and brotherhood, and in it we find, he says, “the flower of human life.”

All our action should be referred to this moral ideal of sociability. Guyau sees in the phrase “social service” a conception which should not be confined to those who are endeavouring in some religious or philanthropic manner to alleviate the suffering caused by evil in human society, but a conception to which the acts, all acts, of all members of society should be related. Like Renouvier, he gives to work an important ethical value. “To work is to produce—that is, to be useful to oneself and to others.” In work he sees the economic and moral reconciliation of egoism and altruism. It is a good and it is praiseworthy. Those who neglect and despise it are parasites, and their existence in society is a negation of the moral ideal of sociability and social service. In so far as the work of certain persons leads to the accumulation of excessive capital in individual hands, it is likely to annul itself sooner or later in luxury and idleness. Such an immoral state of affairs, it is the concern of society, by its laws of inheritance and possession, to prevent.

Having made clear his principle of morality, Guyau then has to face the question of its relation to the notion of duty or obligation. Duty in itself is an idea which he rejects as vague, and he disapproves of the external and artificial element present in the Kantian “rigorism.” For Guyau the very power of action contained in life itself creates an impersonal duty. While Emerson could write:

“Duty says, ‘I must,’
The youth replies, ‘I can,’”

the view of Guyau is directly the converse; for him “I can” gives the “I must”; it is the power which precedes and creates the obligation. Life cannot maintain itself unless it grows and expands. The soul that liveth to itself, that liveth solely by habit and automatism, is already dead. Morality is the unity of the personality expanding by action and by sympathy. It is at this point that Guyau’s thought approaches closely to the philosophie des idÉes-forces of his step-father, by his doctrine of thought and action.

Immorality is really unsociability, and Guyau thinks this a better key-note than to regard it as disobedience. If it is so to be spoken of, it is disobedience to the social elements in one’s own self—a mischievous duplication of personality, egoistic in character and profoundly antisocial. The sociological elements which characterise all Guyau’s work are here very marked. In the notion of sociability we find an equivalent of the older and more artificial conception of Duty—a conception which lacks concreteness and offers in itself so little guidance because it is abstract and empty. The criterion of sociability, Guyau claims, is much more concrete and useful. He asks us to observe its spirituality, for the more gross and materialistic pleasures fall short of the criterion by the very fact that they cannot be shared. Guyau’s thought is here at its best. The higher pleasures, which are not those of bodily enjoyment and satisfaction, but those of the spirit, which thinks, feels, wills and loves, are precisely those which come nearest to fulfilling the ideal of sociability, for they tend less to divide men than to unite them and to urge them to a closer co-operation for their spiritual advancement. Guyau writes here with sarcasm regarding the lonely imbecile in the carriage drawn by four horses. For his own part it is enough to have—

“. . . a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse—and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness—
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.”

He knows who really has chosen the better part. One cannot rejoice much and rejoice alone. Companionship and love are supremely valuable “goods,” and the pleasure of others he recognises as a very real part of his own. The egoist’s pleasure is, on the other hand, very largely an illusion. He loses, says Guyau, far more by his isolated enjoyment than he would gain by sharing.

Life itself is the greatest of all goods, as it is the condition of all others, but life’s value fades if we are not loved. It is love, comradeship and the fellowship of kindred souls which give to the humblest life a significance and a feeling of value. This, Guyau points out with some tenderness, is the tragedy of suicides. These occurrences are a social no less than an individual tragedy. The tragic element lies in the fact that they were persons who were unable to give their devotion to some object, and the loss of personalities in this way is a real loss to society, but it is mainly society itself which is to blame for them.

We need not fear, says Guyau, that such a gospel will promote unduly the operation of mere animality or instinctive action, for in the growth of the scientific spirit he sees the development of the great enemy of all instinct. It is the dissolving force par excellence, the revolutionary spirit which incessantly wages warfare within society against authority, and in the individual it operates through reason against the instinctive impulses. Every instinct tends to lapse in so far as it is reflected upon by consciousness.

The old notion of duty or obligation must, in Guyau’s opinion, be abandoned. The sole commandment which a scientific and positive ethic, such as he endeavours to indicate, can recognise, is expressible only in the words, “Develop your life in all directions, be an individual as rich as possible in energy, intensive and extensive”—in other words, “Be the most social and sociable being you can.” It is this which replaces the “categorical imperative.”

He aptly points out the failure of modern society to offer scope for devotion, which is really a superabundance of life, and its proneness to crush out opportunities which offer a challenge to the human spirit. There is a claim of life itself to adventure; there is a pleasure in risk and in conflict; and this pleasure in risk and adventure has been largely overlooked in its relation to the moral life. Such risk and adventure are not merely a pure negation of self or of personal life, but rather, he considers, that life raised to its highest power, reaching the sublime. By virtue of such devotion our lives are enriched. He draws a touching picture of the sacrifice upon which our modern social life and civilisation are based, and draws an analogy between the blood of dead horses used by the ploughman in fertilising his field, and the blood of the martyrs of humanity, qui ont fÉcondÉ l’avenir. Often they may have been mistaken; later generations may wonder if their cause was worth fighting for; yet, although nothing truly is sadder than to die in vain, that devotion was valuable in and for itself.

With the demand of life for risk in action is bound up the impetus to undertake risk in thought. From this springs the moral need for faith, for belief and acceptance of some hypotheses. The very divergence or diversity of the world-religions is not discouraging but rather the reverse. It is a sign of healthy moral life. Uniformity would be highly detrimental; it would cease to express life, for with conformity of belief would come spiritual decline and stagnation. Guyau anticipates here his doctrine of a religion of free thought, a “non-religion” of the future, which we shall discuss in our next chapter, when we examine his book on that subject. In the diversity of religious views Guyau sees a moral good, for these religions are themselves an expression of life in its richness, and the conservation and expansion of this rich variety of life are precisely the moral ideal itself.

We must endeavour to realise how rich and varied the nature of human life really is. Revolutionaries, Guyau points out, are always making the mistake of regarding life and truth as too simple. Life and truth are so complex that evolution is the key-note to what is desirable in the individual intellect and in society, not a revolution which must inevitably express the extreme of one side or the other. The search for truth is slow and needs faith and patience, but the careful seekers of it are making the future of mankind. But truth will be discovered only in relation to action and life and in proportion to the labour put into its realisation. The search for truth must never be divorced from the active life, Guyau insists, and, indeed, he approaches the view that the action will produce the knowledge, “He that doeth the will shall know of the doctrine.” Moreover he rightly sees in action the wholesome cure for pessimism and that cynicism which all too frequently arises from an equal appreciation of opposing views. “Even in doubt,” he exclaims, “we can love; even in the intellectual night, which prevents our seeing any ultimate goal, we can stretch out a hand to him who weeps at our feet.”[34] In other words, we must do the duty that lies nearest, in the hope and faith that by that action itself light will come.

[34] Esquisse d’une Morale sans Obligation ni Sanction, p. 178.

In the last part of his treatise Guyau deals with the difficult problem of “sanction,” so ultimately connected with ethics, and, it must be added, with religion. The Providence who rewards and punishes us, according to the orthodox religious creed of Christendom, is merely a personified “sanction” or distributive justice, operating in a terrestrial and celestial court of assize. Guyau condemns this as an utterly immoral conception. Religious sanctions, as he has not much difficulty in showing, are more cruel than those which a man could imagine himself inflicting upon his mortal enemy. The “Heavenly Father” ought at least to be as good as earthly ones, who do not cruelly punish their children. Guyau touches upon an important point here, which will be further emphasised—namely, the necessity for making our idea of God, if we have one at all, harmonious with our own ethical conceptions. The old ideas of the divinity are profoundly immoral and are based on physical force. This is natural because those views which have survived in modern times are those of primitive and savage people to whom the most holy was the most powerful and physically majestic. But, says Guyau, now that we see that “all physical force represents moral weakness,” the idea of God the All-terrible, with his hell-fire ready for the sinful soul, must be condemned as immoral blasphemy itself. “God,” he remarks, “in damning any soul might be said to damn himself.”

Virtue is really its own reward. No one should be or do good in order to gain an entry into paradise or to escape the torments of hell. That is to build morality on an immoral principle and on a belief, not in goodness as valuable in and for itself, but on a basis of material self-interest alone, “the best policy.” It is true, Guyau admits, that virtue involves happiness, but it is not in this sense. A conflict between “pleasure” and virtue is usually one of higher versus lower ideals. Virtue is not a precedent to sense-happiness, and in this sense is not at all equivalent or bound up with happiness, but, as the facts of life reveal, very often opposed to it.

Guyau opposes the ordinary view of punishment in society and shows that it is both immoral and socially harmful in its application. It adds evil to evil, and legal murder is really more absurd than the illegal murder. Punishment, capital or other, is no “compensation” exacted for the crime committed, and it never can be such. Attempts to treat and cure the guilty one would, Guyau suggests, be far more rational, humane and really beneficial to society itself, which at present creates by its punishments, especially those inflicted for first offences, a “criminal class.” One should convert the criminal before punishing him, and then, Guvau asks, if he is converted, why punish him?

The appeal to justice denoted in the words “To everyone according to his works” is frequently heard in the defence of punishment. This is an excellent maxim in Guyau’s opinion, but he is careful to point out that it is purely one of social economics. It is a plea for a just distribution of the products of labour, but does not apply at all to the problem of punishment. In a manner which recalls the remarks of Renan, Guyau sees in evil-doing a lack of culture, or rather of that sociability, which comes of social culture, from consciousness of a membership of society and a solidarity with one’s fellows. In vice and in virtue alike the human will appears aspiring to better things according to its lights. As virtue is its own reward, so is evil; and the moralist must say to the wicked: “Verily they have their reward” (Comme si ce n’Était pas assez pour eux d’Être mÉchants).

Guyau comments upon the gradual modifications of punishment from a social point of view. There was the day when the chastisement was infinitely worse than the crime itself. Then came the morality of reciprocity, “an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,” an ethic which represented a high ideal for primitive man to reach, and one to which, Guyau thinks, we have yet to reach to-day in some spheres of life. Yet a further moral development will show how foolish, in a civilised society, are wrath and hatred of the criminal and the cry for vengeance. Society must aim at ensuring protection for itself with the minimum of individual suffering. Punishment must be regarded as an example for the future rather than as revenge or compensation. In the individual himself Guyau observes how powerful can be the inner sanction of remorse, the suffering caused by the unrealised ideal. This is perhaps the only real moral punishment, and it is one which society cannot itself directly enforce. Only by increasing “sociability” and social sensitiveness can this sanction be indirectly developed.

Herein lies the highest ethical ideal, far more concrete and living, in Guyau’s opinion, than the rigorism of a Kant or the “scholastic”[35] temper of a Renouvier. Charity or love for all men, whatever their value morally, intellectually or physically, must, he claims, “be the final end pursued even by public opinion.”In co-operation and sociability, he finds the vital moral ideal; in love and brotherhood, he finds the real sanction which should operate.”Love supposes mutuality of love,” he says; and there is one idea superior to that of justice, that is the idea of brotherhood, and he remarks with a humane tenderness “the guilty have probably more need for love than anyone else.” “I have,” he cries, “two hands—the one for gripping the hand of those with whom I march along in life, the other to lift up the fallen. Indeed, to these I should be able to stretch out both hands together.”[36]

[35] This is Guyau’s word to describe Renouvier, whom he regards as far too much under the influence of Kant.

[36] Esquisse d’une Morale sans Obligation ni Sanction, p. 223.

While FouillÉe and, more especially, Guyau were thus outlining an ethic marked by a strong humanitarianism, a more definitely religious ethic was being proclaimed by that current of philosophy of belief and of action which has profoundly associated itself in its later developments with “Modernism” in the Roman Church. The tendency to stress action and the practical reason is noticeable in the work of Brochard, OllÉ-Laprune and Blondel, also in Rauh. They agree with Renouvier in advocating the primacy of the practical reason, but their own reasons for this are different from his, or at least in them the reasons are more clearly enunciated. Plainly these reasons lie in the difficulties of intellectualism and the quest of truth. They propose the quest of the good in the hope of finding in that sphere some objectivity, some absolute, in fact, which they cannot find out by intellectual searching. They correspond in a somewhat parallel fashion to the philosophy of intuition with its rejection of intellectualism as offering a final solution. These thinkers desire by action, by doing the will, to attain to a knowledge of the doctrine. The first word in their gospel is—

“Im Anfang war die That.”

It is for them the beginning and the end. Their certainty is an act of belief, which grows out of action and life. It is a curious mixture of insistence upon life and action, such as we find in Guyau and in Bergson, coupled with a religious Platonism. Brochard’s work is of this type. He wrote as early as 1874 on La ResponsabilitÉ morale, and in 1876 on L’UniversalitÉ des Notions morales. Three years later appeared his work L’Erreur. OllÉ-Laprune and Blondel, who best represent this tendency, do not like Guyau’s ethics, which lacks the religious idealism which they consider should be bound up with morality. This was the thesis developed in the volume La Certitude morale, written by OllÉ-Laprune in 1881. “By what right,” says OllÉ-Laprune in his subsequent book Le Prix de la Vie (1895), “can Guyau speak of a high exalted life, of a moral ideal? It is impossible to speak so when you have only a purely naturalistic ethic; for merely to name these things is an implication that there is not only intensity in life, but also quality. You suppress duty because you can see in it only a falsely mystical view of life and of nature. What you fail to realise is that between duty and life there is a profound agreement. You reduce duty to life, and in life itself you consider only its quantity and intensity, and regard as illusion everything that is of a different order from the natural physical order in which you imprison yourself.”[37]

[37] Le Prix de la Vie, p. 139.

Such a criticism is not altogether fair to Guyau who, as we noted, proclaimed the superiority of the higher qualities of spiritual life. It does, however, attack his abandonment of the idea of Duty; and we must now turn to examine a thinker, who, by his contribution to ethics, endeavoured to satisfy the claims of life and of duty.

This was Rauh, whose Essai sur le Fondement mÉtaphysique de la Morale appeared in 1890. It had been preceded by a study of the psychology of the feelings, and was later followed by L’ExpÉrience morale (1903). In seeking a metaphysical foundation for morality, Rauh recalls Kant’s Metaphysic of Morals. He, indeed, agrees with Kant in the view that the essence of morality lies in the sentiment of obligation. Belief or faith in an ideal, by which it behoves us to act, imposes itself, says Rauh, upon the mind of man as essential. It is as positive a fact as the laws of the natural sciences. Man not only states facts and formulates general laws in a scientific manner, he also conceives and believes in ideals, which become bound up in his mind with the sentiment of obligation—that is, the general feeling of duty. But beyond a general agreement upon this point, Rauh does not follow Kant. He tends to look upon the ethical problem in the spirit which Guyau, Bergson and Blondel show in their general philosophic outlook. In life, action and immediacy alone can we find a solution. Nothing practical can be deduced from the abstract principle of obligation or duty in general. The moral consciousness of man is, in Rauh’s opinion, akin to the intuitional perceptions of Bergson’s philosophy. Morality, moreover, is creating itself perpetually by the reflection of sensitive minds on action and on life itself. “Morality, or rather moral action, is not merely the crown of metaphysical speculation, but itself the true metaphysic, which is learnt only in living, as it is naught but life itself.”[38] In concluding his thesis, Rauh reminds us that “the essential and most certain factor in the midst of the uncertainties of life and of duty lies in the constant consciousness of the moral ideal.” In it he sees a spiritual reality which, if we keep it ever before us, may inspire the most insignificant of our actions and render them into a harmony, a living harmony of character.

[38] Essai sur le Fondement mÉtaphysique de la Morale, p. 255.

Rauh’s doctrines, we claim, have affinities to the doctrines of action and intuition. That does not imply, however, that the intelligence is to be minimised—far from this; but the intelligence triumphs here in realising that it is not all-sufficing or supreme. “The heart hath reasons which the reason cannot know.” While FouillÉe had remarked that morality is metaphysics in action, Rauh points out that “metaphysics in action” is the foundation of our knowledge. We must, he insists, seek for certitude in an immediate and active adaptation to reality instead of deducing a rule or rules of action from abstract systems.

He separates himself from the sociologists[39] by pointing out that, however largely social environment may determine our moral ideals and rules of conduct, nevertheless the ethical decision is fundamentally an absolutely personal affair. The human conscience, in so far as active, must never passively accept the existing social morality. It finds itself sometimes in agreement, sometimes obliged to give a newer interpretation to old conventions, and at times is obliged to revolt against them. In no case can the idea of duty be equated simply and calmly with acquiescence in the collective general will. It must demand from social morality its credentials and hold itself free to criticise the current ethic of the community. More often than not society acts, Rauh thinks, as a break rather than a stimulus; and social interest is not a measure of the moral ideal, but rather a limitation of it.

[39] The relation of ethics and sociology is well discussed, not only by Durkheim (who, in his Division du Travail social, speaks of the development of democracy and increasing respect for human personality), but also by LÉvy-Bruhl, who followed his thesis on L’IdÉe de ResponsabilitÉ, 1883, by the volume, La Morale el la Science des Moeurs.

Although the moral ideal is one which must be personally worked out, it is not a merely individualistic affair. Rauh does not abandon the guidance of reason, but he objects equally to the following of instinct or a transcendent teaching divorced from the reality of life. Our guide must be reflection upon instinct, and this is only possible by action and experience, the unique experience of living itself. Reason itself is experience; and it is our duty to face problems personally and sincerely, in a manner which the rational element in us renders “impersonal, universal and disinterested.”

Any code of morality which is not directly in contact with life is worthless, and all ethical ideas which are not those of our time are of little value. Only he is truly a man who lives the life of his time. The truly moral man is he who is alive to this spirit and who does not unreflectingly deduce his rules of conduct from ancient books or teachers of a past age. The art of living is the supreme art, and it is this which the great moralists have endeavoured to show humanity. Neither Socrates nor Jesus wrote down their ethical ideas: they lived them.

Rauh thus reminds us partly of Guyau in his insistence upon life. He regards the ethical life at its highest, as one sans obligation ni sanction. Rather than the Kantian obligation of duty, of constraint, he favours in his second book, L’ExpÉrience morale, a state of spontaneity, of passion and exaltation of the personal conscience which faces the issue in a disinterested manner. The man who is morally honest himself selects his values, his ideals, his ends, by the light which reason gives him. Ethics becomes thus an independent science, a science of “ends,” which Reason, as reflected in the personal conscience, acclaims a science of the ideal ordering of life.

Such was Rauh’s conception of rational moral experience, one which he endeavoured to apply in his lectures to the two problems which he considered to be supreme in his time, that of patriotism and of social justice.

These problems were further touched upon in 1896, when LÉon Bourgeois (since noted for his advocacy of the “League of Nations”) published his little work SolidaritÉ, which was also a further contribution to an independent, positive and lay morality. In the conception of the solidarity of humanity throughout the ages, Bourgeois accepted the teaching of the sociologists, and urges that herein can be found an obligation, for the present generation must repay their debt to their ancestors and be worthy of the social heritage which has made them what they are. Somewhat similar sentiments had Been expressed by Marion in his SolidaritÉ morale (1880). Ethical questions were kept in the forefront by the society known as L’Union pour l’Action morale, founded by Desjardins and supported by Lagneau (1851- 1894). After the excitement of the Dreyfus case (1894- 1899) this society took the name L’Union pour la VeritÉ. In 1902 Lapie made an eloquent plea for a rational morality in his Logique de la VolontÉ, and in the following year SÉailles published his Affirmations de la Conscience moderne. The little PrÉcis of AndrÉ Lalande, written in the form of a catechism, was a further contribution to the establishment of a rational and independent lay morality, which the teaching of ethics as a subject in the lycÉes and lay schools rendered in some degree necessary.[40] This little work appeared in 1907, the same year in which Paul Bureau wrote his book La Crise morale des Temps nouveaux. Then Parodi (who in 1919 produced a fine study of French thought since 1890[41]) followed up the discussion of ethical problems by his work Le ProblÈme morale et la PensÉe contemporaine (1909), and in 1912 Wilbois published his contribution entitled Devoir et DurÉe: Essai de Morale sociale.

[40] The teaching of a lay morality is a vital and practical problem which the Government of the Republic is obliged to face. The urgent need for such lay teaching will be more clearly demonstrated or evident when our next chapter, dealing with the religious problem, has been read.

[41] La Philosophie contemporaine en France.

Thus concludes a period in which the discussion, although not marked by a definite turning round of positions as was manifested in our discussions of science, freedom and progress, bears signs of a general development. This development is shown by the greater insistence upon the social aspects of ethics and by a turning away from the formalism of Kant to a more concrete conception of duty, or an ethic in which the notion of duty itself has disappeared. This is the general tendency from Renan with his insistence upon the aesthetic element, Renouvier with his claim for justice in terms of personality, to FouillÉe, Guyau, OllÉ-Laprune and Rauh with their insistence upon action, upon love and life.

Yet, although the departure from an intense individualism in ethics is desirable, we must beware of the danger which threatens from the other extreme. We cannot close this chapter without insisting upon this point. Good must be personally realised in the inner life of individuals, even if they form a community. The collective life is indeed necessary, but it is not collectively that the good is experienced. It is personal. In the neglect of this important aspect lies the error of much Communistic philosophy and of that social science which looks on society as purely an organism. This analogy is false, for however largely a community exhibits a general likeness to an organism, it is a superficial resemblance. There is not a centre of consciousness, but a multitude of such centres each living an inner life of personal experience which is peculiarly its own; and these personalities, we must remember, are not simply a homogeneous mass of social matter, they are capable of realising the good each in his or her own manner. This is the only realisation of the good.

In this chapter we have traced the attempt to reconcile science et conscience, after the way had been opened up by the maintenance of freedom. It was recognised that reason is not entirely pure speculation: it is also practical. Human nature seeks for goodness as well as for truth. It is noticeable that while the insistence upon the primacy of the practical reason developed, on the one hand, into a philosophy of action (anti-intellectual action in its extreme development as shown in Syndicalism), the same tendency, operating in a different manner and upon different data, essayed to find in action, and in the belief which arises from action, that Absolute or Ideal to which the pure reason feels it cannot alone attain—namely, the realisation of God. To this problem of religion we devote our next chapter.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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