seems to go back much further still, for Porphyrins is of opinion that Plato took it from the Egyptians. Certainly we already find the same theory in the Brahmanical doctrine of metempsychosis, and it is from this Indian source that the Egyptian priests, in all probability, derived their wisdom. § 39 is as follows:-- _Τὸ γὰρ ὅλον βούλημα τοιοῡτ' ἔοικεν εἶναι τὸ τοῡ Πλάτωνος ἔχειν μὲν τὸ αὐτεξουσιον τὰς ψυχὰς, πρὶν εἰς σώματα καὶ βίους διαϕέρους ἐμπεσεῖν, εἰς τὸ ἢ τοῡτoν τὸν βίον ἕλεσθαι, ἢ ἄλλον, ὅν, μετὰ ποιᾱς ζωῆς καὶ σώματος οἰκείον τῇ ζωῇ, κτέλεσειν μέλλει (καὶ γὰρ λέοντος βίον ἐπ' αὐτῇ εἶνai ἔλεσθαι, καὶ ἀνδρὸς). Kakeῑνο μέντοι τὸ αὐτeξoύσιον, ἅμα τῇ πρός τινα τῶν τοιούτων βίων πτώσει, ἐμπεπόδισται. Κατελθοῡσαι γὰρ εἰς τὰ σώματα, καὶ ἀντὶ ψυχῶν aπολυτῶν γεγονῑυαι ψυχαὶ ζώων, τὸ αὐτεξούσιον ϕέρουσιν οἰκείον τῇ τοῡ ζώον κατασκευῇ, καὶ ἐϕ' ὧν μὲν εἶνai πολύνουν καὶ πολυκίνητον, ὡς ἐπ' ἀνθρώπον, ἐϕ' ὡν δὲ λυγοκίνηττον καὶ μονότροπον, ὡς ἐπὶ τῶν ἄλλον σχεδὸν πάντων ζώων. Ήρτῆσθαι δὲ τὸ αὐτeξoύσιον τοῡτo ἀπὸ τῆς κατασκετῆς, κινούμενον μὲν ἐξ αὐτοῡ, ϕερόμενον δὲ κατὰ τὰς ἐκ τῆς κατασκευῇς γυγνομένας προθυμίας._[6] [1] _V_. Note on "intelligible" in Chapter I. of this [2] _I.e._, what is done is a consequence of that which is.
[3] _I.e._, his acts are a consequence of what he is.
[4] _V_. Joannes Stobaeus. _Eclogae Physicae et Ethicae_, edit.
Curtius Wachsmuth et Otto Hense; Weidmann, Berlin, 1884. Vol. II., pp.
[5] _V_. Plat., _Rep_., edit. Stallbaum, 614 sqq. It is the _ἀπόλoγos Ήρὸς τοῡ Άρμενίον_.--(_translator._) [6] To sum up. What Plato meant seems to be this. Souls (he said) have free power, before passing into bodies and different modes of being, to choose this or that form of life, which they will pass through in a certain kind of existence, and in a body adapted thereto. (For a soul may choose a lion's, equally with a man's, mode of being.) But this free power of choice is removed simultaneously with entrance into one or other of such forms of life. For when once they have descended into bodies, and instead of unfettered souls have become the souls of living things, then they take that measure of free power which belongs in each case to the organism of the living thing. In some forms this power is very intelligent and full of movement, as in man; in some it has but little energy, and is of a simple nature, as in almost all other creatures. Moreover, this free power depends on the organism in such a way that while its capability of action is caused by itself alone, its impulses are determined by the desires which have their origin in the CHAPTER IX.
FICHTE'S ETHICS AS A MAGNIFYING GLASS FOR THE ERRORS OF THE KANTIAN.
Just as in Anatomy and Zoology, many things are not so obvious to the pupil in preparations and natural products as in engravings where there is some exaggeration; so if there is any one who, after the above criticism, is still not entirely satisfied as to the worthlessness of the Kantian foundation of Ethics, I would recommend him Fichte's _System der Sittenlehre_, as a sure means of freeing him from all doubt.
In the old German Marionnettes a fool always accompanied the emperor, or hero, so that he might afterwards give in his own way a highly coloured version of what had been said or done In like manner behind the great Kant there stands the author of the _Wissenschaftslehre_,[1] a true _Wissenschaftsleere[2]._ In order to secure his own, and his family's welfare, Fichte formed the idea of creating a sensation by means of subtle mystification. It was a very suitable and reasonable plan, considering the nature of the German philosophic public, and he executed it admirably by outdoing Kant in every particular. He appeared as the latter's living superlative, and produced a perfect caricature of his philosophy by magnifying all its salient points. Nor did the Ethics escape similar treatment? In his _System der Sittenlehre_, we find the Categorical Imperative grown into a Despotic Imperative; while the absolute "Ought," the law-giving Reason, and the Hest of Duty have developed into a =moral Fate=, an unfathomable Necessity, requiring mankind to act strictly in accordance with certain maxims.
To judge (pp. 308, 309) from the pompous show made, a great deal must depend on these formulae, although one never quite discovers what.
So much only seems clear. As in bees there is implanted an instinct to build cells and a hive for life in common, so men (it is alleged) are endowed with an impulse leading them to play in common a great, strictly moral, world-embracing Comedy, their part being merely to figure as puppets--nothing else. But there is this important difference between the bees and men. The hive is really brought to completion; while instead of a moral World-Comedy, as a matter of fact, an exceedingly immoral one is enacted. Here, then, we see the imperative form of the Kantian Ethics, the moral Law, and the absolute "Ought" pushed further and further till a system of ethical =Fatalism= is evolved, which, as it is worked out, lapses at times into the comic.[3] If in Kant's doctrine we trace a certain moral pedantry; with Fichte this pedantry reaches the absurd, and furnishes abundant material for satire. Let the reader notice, for example (pp. 407-409), how he decides the well-known instance of casuistry, where of two human lives one must be lost. We find indeed all the errors of Kant raised to the superlative. Thus, on p. 199, we read: "To act in accordance with the dictates of sympathy, of compassion, and of loving-kindness is distinctly unmoral; indeed this line of conduct, as such, is contrary to morality." Again, on p. 402: "The impulse that makes us ready to serve others must never be an inconsiderate good-nature, but a clearly thought-out purpose; that, namely, of furthering as much as possible the causality of Reason." However, between these sallies of ridiculous pedantry, Fichte's real philosophic crudeness peeps out clearly enough, as we might only expect in the case of a man whose teaching left no time for learning. He seriously puts forward the _liberum arbitrium indifferentiae_ (a free and indifferent choice), giving as its foundation the most trivial and frivolous reasons. (Pp. 160, 173, 205, 208, 237, 259, 261.) There can be no doubt that a motive, although working through the medium of the intelligence, is, nevertheless, a cause, and consequently involves the same necessity of effect as all other causes; the corollary being that all human action is a strictly necessary result. Whoever remains unconvinced of this, is still, philosophically speaking, barbarous, and ignorant of the rudiments of exact knowledge. The perception of the strict necessity governing man's conduct forms the line of demarcation which separates philosophic heads from all others; arrived at this limit Fichte clearly showed that he belonged to the others. Moreover, following the footsteps of Kant (p. 303), he proceeds to make various statements which are in direct contradiction to the above mentioned passages; but this inconsistency, like many more in his writings, only proves that he, being one who was never serious in the search for truth, possessed no strong convictions to build on; as indeed for his purpose they were not in the least necessary. Nothing is more laughable than the fact that this man has received so much posthumous praise for strictly consequential reasoning; his pedantic style full of loud declamation about trifling matters being actually mistaken for such.
The most complete development of Fichte's system of =moral Fatalism= is found in his last work: _Die Wissenschaftslehre in ihrem Allgemeinen Umrisse Dargestellt_, Berlin, 1810. It has the advantage of being only forty-six pages (duodecimo) long, while it contains his whole philosophy in a nutshell. It is therefore to be recommended to all those who consider their time too precious to be wasted on his larger productions, which are framed with a length and tediousness worthy of Christian Wolff, and with the intention, in reality, of deluding, not of instructing the reader. In this little treatise we read on p. 32: "The intuitive perception of a phaenomenal world only came about, to the end that in such a world the Ego as the =absolute Ought= might be visible to itself." On p. 33 we actually find: "The =ought=," (_i.e._, the moral necessity,) "of the moral necessity,) "of the perception that I =ought=." This, then, is what we have come to so soon after Kant! =His imperative Form=, with its unproved =Ought=, which it secured as a most convenient _ποῡ στῶ_ (standpoint), is indeed an _exemplar vitiis imitabile_!
For the rest, all that I have said does not overthrow the service Fichte rendered. Kant's philosophy, this late masterpiece of human sagacity, in the very land where it arose, he obscured, nay, supplanted by empty, bombastic superlatives, by extravagances, and by the nonsense which is found, in his _Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre,_ appearing under the disguise of profound penetration. His merit was thus to show the world unmistakably what the capacity of the German philosophical public is; for he made it play the part of a child who is coaxed into giving up a precious gem in exchange for a Nürnberg toy. The fame he obtained in this fashion still lives on credit; and still Fichte is always mentioned in the same breath with Kant as being another such _Ἡραkλῆς καὶ πίθηêκος!_[4] Indeed his name is often placed above the latter's.[5] It was, of course, Fichte's example that encouraged his successors in the art of enveloping the German people, in philosophic fog. These were animated by the same spirit, and crowned with the same prosperity. Every one knows their names; nor is this the place to consider them at length. Needless to say, their different opinions, down to the minutest details, are still set forth, and seriously discussed, by the Professors of Philosophy; as if one had really to do with philosophers! We must, then, thank Fichte for lucid documents now existing, which will have to be revised one day before the Tribunal of posterity, that Court of Appeal from the verdicts of the present, which--like the Last Judgment looked forward to by the Saints--at almost all periods, has been left to give to true merit its just award.
[1] _I.e._ Scientific Doctrine.
[2] _I.e._ Scientific Blank. Perhaps we might translate:--"Scientific Instruction" and "Scientific Misinstruction."--(_Translator._) [3] As evidence of the truth of my words, space prevents me from quoting more than a few passages. P. 196: "The moral instinct is absolute, and its requirements are peremptory, without any object outside itself." P. 232: "In consequence of the Moral Law, the empirical Being in Time must be an exact copy of the original Ego." P.
308: "The whole man is a vehicle of the Moral Law." P. 342: "I am only an instrument, a mere tool of the Moral Law, not in any sense an end."
P. 343: "The end laid before every one is to be the means of realising Reason: this is the ultimate purpose of his existence; for this alone he has his being, and if this end should not be attained, there is not the least occasion for him to live." P. 347: "I am an instrument of the Moral Law in the phaenomenal world." P. 360: "It is an ordinance of the Moral Law to nourish one's body, and study one's health; this of course should be done in no way, and for no other purpose, except to provide an _efficient instrument_ for furthering the end decreed by Reason, an instrument for furthering the end decreed by Reason, _i.e._, its realisation; therefore the greatest possible fitness of each instrument must constitute for me an end: consequently I must take thought for can and dare take thought for myself, solely because, and is so far as I am, _an instrument of the Moral Law_." P. 388: "To defend a hunted man at the risk of one's own life, is an absolute duty; whenever the life of another human being is in danger, you have no right to think of the safety of your own." P. 420: "In the province of the Moral Law there is no way whatever of regarding my fellow-man except as an _instrument_ of Reason."
[4] _I.e._, Hercules and an ape. A Greek proverb denoting the juxtaposition of the sublime and the ridiculous. _V_. Greg. Cypr.
[5] My proof for this is a passage from the latest philosophical literature. Herr Feuerbach, an Hegelian (_c'est tout dire!_) in his book, _Pierre Bayle: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der Philosophie_, 1838, p. 80, writes as follows: "But still more sublime than Kant's are Fichte's ideas as expressed in his Doctrine of Morals and elsewhere.
Christianity has nothing in sublimity that could bear comparison with them."
PART III.
THE FOUNDING OF ETHICS.
CHAPTER I.
CONDITIONS OF THE PROBLEM.
Thus the foundation which Kant gave to Ethics, which for the last sixty years has been regarded as a sure basis, proves to be an inadmissible assumption, and merely theological Morals in disguise; it sinks therefore before our eyes into the deep gulf of philosophic error, which perhaps will never be filled up. That the previous attempts to lay a foundation are still less satisfactory, I take for granted, as I have already said. They consist, for the most part, of unproved assertions, drawn from the impalpable world of dreams, and at the same time--like Kant's system itself--full of an artificial subtlety dealing with the finest distinctions, and resting on the most abstract conceptions. We find difficult combinations; rules invented for the purpose; formulae balanced on a needle's point; and stilted maxims, from which it is no longer possible to look down and see life as it really is with all its turmoil. Such niceties are doubtless admirably adapted for the lecture-room, if only with a view to sharpening the wits; but they can never be the cause of the impulse to act justly and to do good, which is found in every man; as also they are powerless to counterbalance the deep-seated tendency to injustice and hardness of heart. Neither is it possible to fasten the reproaches of conscience upon them; to attribute the former to the breaking of such hair-splitting precepts only serves to make the same ridiculous. In a word, artificial associations of ideas like these cannot possibly--if we take the matter seriously--contain the true incentive to justice and loving-kindness. Rather must this be something that requires but little reflection, and still less abstraction and complicated synthesis; something that, independent of the training of the understanding,.
speaks to every one, even to the rudest,--a something resting simply on intuitive perception, and forcing its way home as a direct emanation from the reality of things. So long as Ethics cannot point to a foundation of this sort, she may go on with her discussions, and make a great display in the lecture-rooms; but real life will only pour contempt upon her. I must therefore give our moralists the paradoxical advice, first to look about them a little among their fellow-men.
CHAPTER II SCEPTICAL VIEW.
But when we cast a retrospect over the attempts made, and made in vain, for more than two thousand years, to find a sure basis for Ethics, ought we not perhaps to think that after all there is no natural morality, independent of human institution? Shall we not conclude that all moral systems are nothing but artificial products, means invented for the better restraint of the selfish and wicked race of men; and further, that, as they have no internal credentials and no natural basis, they would fail in their purpose, if without the support of positive religion? The legal code and the police are not sufficient in all cases; there are offences, the discovery of which is too difficult; some, indeed, where punishment is a precarious matter; where, in short, we are left without public protection. Moreover, the civil law can at most enforce justice, not loving-kindness and beneficence; because, of course, these are qualities as regards which every one would like to play the passive, and no one the active, part. All this has given rise to the hypothesis that morality rests solely on religion, and that both have the same aim--that of being complementary to the necessary inadequacy of state machinery and legislation. Consequently, there cannot be (it is said) a natural morality, _i.e._, one based simply on the nature of things, or of man, and the fruitless search of philosophers for its foundation is explained. This view is not without plausibility; and we find it as far back as the Pyrrhonians: _οὔτε ἀγάθον ἐστί ϕύσει, oὔτε κακόν,_ _ἀλλὰ πρὸς ἀνθροπών ταὒτα νό κέκριται,_ --_Sext. Emp. adv. Math_., XI., 140.
Also in modern times distinguished thinkers have given their adherence to it. A careful examination therefore it deserves; although the easier course would be to shelve it by giving an inquisitorial glance at the consciences of those in whom such a theory could arise.
We should fall into a great, a very childish blunder, if we believed all the just and legal actions of mankind to have a moral origin. This is far from being the case. As a rule, between the justice, which men practise, and genuine singleness of heart, there exists a relation analogous to that between polite expressions, and the true love of one's neighbour, which, unlike the former, does not ostensibly overcome Egoism, but really does so. That honesty of sentiment, everywhere so carefully exhibited, which requires to be regarded as above all suspicion; that deep indignation, which is stirred by the smallest sign of a doubt in this direction, and is ready to break out into furions anger;--to what are we to attribute these symptoms? None but the inexperienced and simple will take them for pure coin, for the working of a fine moral feeling, or conscience. In point of fact, the general correctness of conduct which is adopted in human intercourse, and insisted on as a rule no less immovable than the hills, depends principally on two external necessities; first, on legal ordinance, by virtue of which the rights of every man are protected by public authority; and secondly, on the recognised need of possessing civil honour, in other words, a good name, in order to advance in the world.
This is why the steps taken by the individual are closely watched by public opinion, which is so inexorably severe that it never forgives even a single false move or slip, but remembers it against the guilty person as an indelible blot, all his life long. As far as this goes, public opinion is wise enough; for, starting from the fundamental principle: _Operari sequitur esse_ (what one does is determined by what one is), it shows its conviction that the character is unchangeable, and that therefore what a man has once done, he will assuredly do again, if only the circumstances be precisely similar. Such are the two custodians that keep guard on the correct conduct of people, without which, to speak frankly, we should be in a sad case, especially with reference to property, this central point in human life, around which the chief part of its energy and activity revolves. For the purely ethical motives to integrity, assuming that they exist, cannot as a rule be applied, except very indirectly, to the question of ownership as guaranteed by the state. These motives, in fact, have a direct and essential bearing only on =natural= right; with =positive= right their connection is merely indirect, in so far as the latter is based on the former. Natural right, however, attaches to no other property than that which has been gained by one's own exertion; because, when this is seized, the owner is at the same time robbed of all the efforts he expended in acquiring it. The theory of preoccupancy I reject absolutely, but cannot here set forth its refutation.[2] Now of course all estate based on positive right ought ultimately and in the last instance (it matters not how many intermediate links are involved) to rest on the natural right of possession. But what a distance there is, in most cases, between the title-deeds, that belong to our civil life, and this natural right--their original source! Indeed their connection with the latter is generally either very difficult, or else impossible, to prove. What we hold is ours by inheritance, by marriage, by success in the lottery; or if in no way of this kind, still it is not gained by our own work, with the sweat of the brow, but rather by shrewdness and bright ideas (_e.g._, in the field of speculation), yes, and sometimes even by our very stupidity, which, through a conjunction of circumstances, is crowned and glorified by the _Deus eventus._ It is only in a very small minority of cases that property is the fruit of real labour and toil; and even then the work is usually mental, like that of lawyers, doctors, civilians, teachers, etc.; and this in the eyes of the rude appears to cost but little effort.
Now, when wealth is acquired in any such fashion, there is need of considerable education before the ethical right can be recognised and respected out of a purely moral impulse. Hence it comes about that not a few secretly regard the possessions of others as held merely by virtue of positive right. So, if they find means to wrest from another man his goods, by using, or perhaps by evading, the laws, they feel no scruples; for in their opinion he would lose what he holds, in the same way in which he had previously obtained it, and they consequently regard their own claims as equal to his. From their point of view, the right of the stronger in civil society is superseded by the right of the cleverer.
Incidentally we may notice that the =rich= man often shows an inflexible correctness of conduct. Why? Because with his whole heart he is attached to, and rigidly maintains, a rule, on the observance of which his entire wealth, and all its attendant advantages, depend. For this reason his profession of the principle: _Suum cuique_ (to each his own), is thoroughly in earnest, and shows an unswerving consistency.
No doubt there is an =objective= loyalty to sincerity and good faith, which avails to keep them sacred; but such loyalty is based simply on the fact that sincerity and good faith are the foundation of all free intercourse among men; of good order; and of secure ownership.
Consequently they very often benefit =ourselves=, and with this end in view they must be preserved even at some cost: just as a good piece of land is worth a certain outlay. But integrity thus derived is, as a rule, only to be met with among wealthy people, or at least those who are engaged in a lucrative business. It is an especial characteristic of tradesmen; because they have the strongest conviction that for all the operations of commerce the one thing indispensable is mutual trust and credit; and this is why mercantile honour stands quite by itself. On the other hand, the _poor_ man, who cannot make both ends meet, and who, by reason of the unequal division of property, sees himself condemned to want and hard work, while others before his eyes are lapped in luxury and idleness, will not easily perceive that the _raison d'être_ of this inequality is a corresponding inequality of service and honest industry. And if he does =not= recognise this, how is he to be governed by the purely ethical motive to uprightness, which should keep him from stretching out his hand to grasp the superfluity of another? Generally, it is the order of government as established by law that restrains him. But should ever the rare occasion present itself when he discovers that he is beyond the reach of the police, and that he could by a single act throw off the galling burden of penury, which is aggravated by the sight of others' opulence; if he feels this, and realises that he could thus enter into the possession and enjoyment of all that he has so often coveted: what is there then to stay his hand? Religions dogmas? It is seldom that faith is so firm. A purely moral incentive to be just and upright? Perhaps in a few isolated cases. But in by far the greater number there is in reality nothing but the anxiety a man feels to keep his good name, his civil honour--a thing that touches closely even those in humble circumstances. He knows the imminent danger incurred of having to pay for dishonest conduct by being expelled from the great Masonic Lodge of honourable people who live correct lives. He knows that property all over the world is in their hands, and duly apportioned among themselves, and that they wield the power of making him an outcast for life from good society, in case he commit a single disgraceful action.
He knows that whoever takes one false step in this direction is marked as a person that no one trusts, whose company every one shuns, and from whom all advancement is cut off; to whom, as being "a fellow that has stolen," the proverb is applied: "He who steals once is a thief all his life."
These, then, are the guards that watch over correct behaviour between man and man, and he who has lived, and kept his eyes open, will admit that the vast majority of honourable actions in human intercourse must be attributed to them; nay, he will go further, and say that there are not wanting people who hope to elude even their vigilance, and who regard justice and honesty merely as an external badge, as a flag, under the protection of which they can carry out their own freebooting propensities with better success. We need not therefore break out into holy wrath, and buckle on our armour, if a moralist is found to suggest that perhaps all integrity and uprightness may be at bottom only conventional. This is what Holbach, Helvetius, d'Alembert, and others of their time did; and, following out the theory, they endeavoured with great acumen to trace back all moral conduct to egoistic motives, however remote and indirect. That their position is literally true of most just actions, as having an ultimate foundation centred in the Self, I have shown above. That it is also true to a large extent of what is done in kindness and humanity, there can be no doubt; acts of this sort often arise from love of ostentation, still oftener from belief in a retribution to come, which may be dealt out in the second or even the third power;[3] or they can be explained by other egoistic motives. Nevertheless, it is equally certain that there occur actions of disinterested good-will and entirely voluntary justice. To prove the latter statement, I appeal only to the facts of experience, not to those of consciousness. There are isolated, yet indisputable cases on record, where not only the danger of legal prosecution, but also all chance of discovery, and even of suspicion has been excluded, and where, notwithstanding, the poor man has rendered to the rich his own.
For example, things lost, and found, have been given back without any thought or hope of reward; a deposit made by a third person has been restored after his death to the rightful owner; a poor man, secretly intrusted with a treasure by a fugitive, has faithfully kept, and then returned, it. Instances of this sort can be found, beyond all doubt; only the surprise, the emotion, and the high respect awakened, when we hear of them, testify to the fact that they are unexpected and very exceptional. There are in truth really honest people: like four-leaved clover, their existence is not a fiction. But Hamlet uses no hyperbole when he says: "To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man pick'd out of ten thousand." If it be objected that, after all, religious dogmas, involving rewards and penalties in another world, are at the root of conduct as above described; cases could probably be adduced where the actors possessed no religions faith whatever. And this is a thing by no means so infrequent as is generally maintained.
Those who combat the =sceptical view= appeal specially to the testimony of =conscience=. But conscience itself is impugned, and doubts are raised about its natural origin. Now, as a matter of fact, there is a _conscientia spuria_ (false conscience), which is often confounded with the true. The regret and anxiety which many a man feels for what he has done is frequently, at bottom, nothing but fear of the possible consequences. Not a few people, if they break external, voluntary, and even absurd rules, suffer from painful searchings of heart, exactly similar to those inflicted by the real conscience. Thus, for instance, a bigoted Jew, if on Saturday he should smoke a pipe at home, becomes really oppressed with the sense of having disobeyed the command in Exodus xxxv. 3: "Ye shall kindle no fire throughout your habitations upon the Sabbath day." How often it happens that a nobleman or officer is the victim of self-reproach, because on some occasion or other he has not properly complied with that fools' codex, which is called knightly honour! Nay more: there are many of this class, who, if they see the impossibility of merely doing enough in some quarrel to satisfy the above-named code--to say nothing of keeping their pledged word of honour--are ready to shoot themselves. (Instances of both have come under my knowledge.) And this, while the self-same man would with an easy mind break his promise every day, if only the shibboleth "Honour" be not involved. In short, every inconsequent, and thoughtless action, all conduct contrary to our prejudices, principles, or convictions, whatever these may be; indeed, every indiscretion, every mistake, every piece of stupidity rankles in us secretly, and leaves its sting behind. The average individual, who thinks his conscience such an imposing structure, would be surprised, could he see of what it actually consists: probably of about one-fifth, fear of men; one-fifth, superstition; one-fifth, prejudice; one-fifth, vanity; and one-fifth, habit. So that in reality he is no better than the Englishman, who said quite frankly: "I cannot afford to keep a conscience." Religious people of every creed, as a rule, understand by conscience nothing else than the dogmas and injunctions of their religion, and the self-examination based thereon; and it is in this sense that the expressions =coercion of conscience= and =liberty of conscience= are used. The same interpretation was always given by the theologians, schoolmen, and casuists of the middle ages and of later times. Whatever a man knew of the formulae and prescriptions of the Church, coupled with a resolution to believe and obey it, constituted his conscience. Thus we find the terms "a doubting conscience," "an opinionated conscience," "an erring conscience," and the like; and councils were held, and confessors employed, for the special purpose of setting such irregularities straight. How little the conception of conscience, just as other conceptions, is determined by its own object; how differently it is viewed by different people; how wavering and uncertain it appears in books; all this is briefly but clearly set forth in Stäudlin's _Geschichte der Lehre vom Gewissen_.
These facts taken in conjunction are not calculated to establish the reality of the thing; they have rather given rise to the question whether there is in truth a genuine, inborn conscience. I have already had occasion in Part II., Chapter VIII., where the theory of Freedom is discussed, to touch on my view of conscience, and I shall return to it below.
All these sceptical objections added together do not in the least avail to prove that no true morality exists, however much they may moderate our expectations as to the moral tendency in man, and the natural basis of Ethics. Undoubtedly a great deal that is ascribed to the ethical sense can be proved to spring from other incentives; and when we contemplate the moral depravity of the world, it is sufficiently clear that the stimulus for good cannot be very powerful, especially as it often does not work even in cases where the opposing motives are weak, although then the individual difference of character makes itself fully felt.
It should be observed that this moral depravity is all the more difficult to discern, because its manifestations are checked and cloaked by public order, as enforced by law; by the necessity of having a good name; and even by ordinary polite manners. And this is not all. People commonly suppose that in the education of the young their moral interests are furthered by representing uprightness and virtue as principles generally followed by the world. Later on, it is often to their great harm that experience teaches them something else; for the discovery, that the instructors of their early years were the first to deceive them, is likely to have a more mischievous effect on their morality than if these persons had given them the first example of ingenuous truthfulness, by saying frankly: "The world is sunk in evil, and men are not what they ought to be; but be not misled thereby, and see that you do better." All this, as I have said, increases the difficulty of recognising the real immorality of mankind. The state --this masterpiece, which sums up the self-conscious, intelligent egoism of all--consigns the rights of each person to a power, which, being enormously superior to that of the individual, compels him to respect the rights of all others. This is the leash that restrains the limitless egoism of nearly every one, the malice of many, the cruelty of not a few. The illusion thus arising is so great that, when in special cases, where the executive power is ineffective, or is eluded, the insatiable covetousness, the base greed, the deep hypocrisy, or the spiteful tricks of men are apparent in all their ugliness, we recoil with horror, supposing that we have stumbled on some unheard-of monster: whereas, without the compulsion of law, and the necessity of keeping an honourable name, these sights would be of every day occurrence. In order to discover what, from a moral point of view, human beings are made of, we must study anarchist records, and the proceedings connected with criminals. The thousands that throng before our eyes, in peaceful intercourse each with the other, can only be regarded as so many tigers and wolves, whose teeth are secured by a strong muzzle. Let us now suppose this muzzle cast off, or, in other words, the power of the state abolished; the contemplation of the spectacle then to be awaited would make all thinking people shudder; and they would thus betray the small amount of trust they really have in the efficiency either of religion, or of conscience, or