"MORAL THEORY AND PRACTICE"
Dewey's ethical theory, as has already been indicated, stands in close
relation to his general theory of knowledge. Since it has been found
expedient to treat the ethical theory separately, it will be necessary
to go back some two years and trace it from its beginnings. The order of
arrangement that has been chosen is fortunate in this respect, since it
brings into close connection two articles which are really companion
pieces, in spite of the two-year interval which separates them. These
are "The Superstition of Necessity," which was considered at the close
of the last chapter, and "Moral Theory and Practice," an article
published in _The International Journal of Ethics_, in January,
1891.[75] This latter article, now to be examined, is one of Dewey's
first serious undertakings in the field of ethical theory, and probably
represents some of the results of his study in connection with his
text-book, _Outlines of a Critical Theory of Ethics_, published in the
same year (1891).
The immediate occasion for the article is explained by Dewey in his
introductory remarks: "In the first number of this journal four writers
touch upon the same question,--the relation of moral theory to moral
practice."[76] The four writers mentioned were Sidgwick, Adler,
Bosanquet, and Salter. None of them, according to Dewey, had directly
discussed the relation of moral theory to practice. "But," he says,
"finding the subject touched upon ... in so many ways, I was led to
attempt to clear up my own ideas."[77]
There seems to exist, Dewey continues, "the idea that moral theory is
something other than, or something beyond, an analysis of conduct,--the
idea that it is not simply and wholly 'the theory of practice.'"[78] It
is often defined, for instance, as an inquiry into the metaphysics of
morals, which has nothing to do with practice. But, Dewey believes,
there must be some intrinsic connection between the theory of morals and
moral practice. Such intrinsic connection may be denied on the ground
that practice existed long before theory made its appearance. Codes of
morality were in existence before Plato, Kant, or Spencer rose to
speculate upon them. This raises the question, What is theory?
Moral theory is nothing more than a proposed act in idea. It is insight,
or perception of the relations and bearings of the contemplated act. "It
is all one with moral _insight_, and moral insight is the recognition of
the relationships in hand. This is a very tame and prosaic conception.
It makes moral insight, and therefore moral theory, consist simply in
the everyday workings of the same ordinary intelligence that measures
drygoods, drives nails, sells wheat, and invents the telephone."[79] The
nature of theory as idea is more definitely described. "It is the
construction of the act in thought against its outward construction. _It
is, therefore, the doing,--the act itself, in its emerging._"[80]
Theory is practice in idea, or as foreseen; it is the perception of what
ought to be done. This, at least, is what moral theory is. Dewey's
demand that fact and theory must have some intrinsic connection,
unsatisfied in the articles reviewed in the previous chapter, is met
here by discovering a connecting link in _action_. Theory is "_the
doing,--the act itself in its emerging_." The reduction of thought to
terms of action, here implied, is a serious step. It marks a new
tendency in Dewey's speculation. Dewey does not claim, in the present
article, that his remarks hold good for all theory. "Physical science,"
he remarks, "does deal with abstractions, with hypothesis. It says, 'If
this, then that.' It deals with the relations of conditions and not with
facts, or individuals, at all. It says, 'I have nothing to do with your
concrete falling stone, but I can tell you this, that it is a law of
falling bodies that, etc.'"[81] But moral theory is compelled to deal
with concrete situations. It must be a theory which can be applied
directly to the particular case. Moral theory cannot exist simply in a
book. Since, moreover, there is no such thing as theory in the abstract,
there can be no abstract theory of morals.
There can be no difficulty, Dewey believes, in understanding moral
theory as action in idea. All action that is intelligent, all conduct,
that is, involves theory. "For any _act_ (as distinct from mere impulse)
there must be 'theory,' and the wider the act, the greater its import,
the more exigent the demand for theory."[82] This does not, however,
answer the question how any particular moral theory, the Kantian, the
Hedonistic, or the Hegelian, is related to action. These systems
present, not 'moral ideas' as explained above, but 'ideas about
morality.' What relation have ideas about morality to specific moral
conduct?
The answer to this question is to be obtained through an understanding
of the nature of the moral situation. If an act is moral, it must be
intelligent; as moral conduct, it implies insight into the situation at
hand. This insight is obtained by an examination and analysis of the
concrete situation. "This is evidently a work of analysis. Like every
analysis, it requires that the one making it be in possession of certain
working tools. I cannot resolve this practical situation which faces me
by merely looking at it. I must attack it with such instruments of
analysis as I have at hand. _What we call moral rules are precisely such
tools of analysis._"[83] The Golden Rule is such an instrument of
analysis. Taken by itself, it offers no direct information as to what is
to be done. "The rule is a counsel of perfection; it is a warning that
in my analysis of the moral situation (that is, of the conditions of
practice) I be impartial as to the effects on me and thee.'"[84] Every
rule which is of any use at all is employed in a similar fashion.
But this is not, so far, a statement of the nature of moral theory,
since only particular rules have been considered. Ethical theory, in its
wider significance, is a reflective process in which, as one might say,
the 'tools of analysis' are shaped and adapted to their work. These
rules are not fixed things, made once and for all, but of such a nature
that they preserve their effectiveness only as they are constantly
renewed and reshaped. Ethical theory brings the Golden Rule together
with other general ideas, conforms them to each other, and in this way
gives the moral rule a great scope in practice. All moral theory,
therefore, is finally linked up with practice. "It bears much the same
relation to the particular rule as this to the special case. It is a
tool for the analysis of its meaning, and thereby a tool for giving it
greater effect."[85] In ethical theory we find moral rules in the
making. Ideas about morals are simply moral ideas in the course of being
formed.
Dewey presents here an instrumental theory of knowledge and concepts.
But it differs widely from the instrumentalism of the Neo-Hegelian
school both in its form and derivation. Dewey reaches his
instrumentalism through a psychological analysis of the judgment
process. He finds that theory is related to fact through action, and
since he had been unable to give a concrete account of this relationship
at a previous time, the conclusion may be regarded as a discovery of
considerable moment for his philosophical method. Dewey's
instrumentalism rests upon a very special psychological interpretation,
which puts action first and thought second. Unable to discover an overt
connection between fact and thought, he delves underground for it, and
finds it in the activities of the nervous organism. This discovery, he
believes, solves once and for all the ancient riddle of the relation of
thought to reality.
In the concluding part of the article Dewey takes up the consideration
of moral obligation. "What is the relation of knowledge, of theory, to
that Ought which seems to be the very essence of moral conduct?"[86] The
answer anticipates in some measure the position which was taken later,
as has been seen, in regard to necessity. The concept of obligation,
like that of necessity, Dewey believes, has relevance only for the
judgment situation. "But," Dewey says, "limiting the question as best I
can, I should say (first) that the 'ought' always rises from and falls
back into the 'is,' and (secondly) that the 'ought' is itself an
'is,'--the 'is' of action."[87] Obligation is not something added to the
conclusion of a judgment, something which gives a moral aspect to what
had been a coldly intellectual matter. The 'ought' finds an integral
place in the judgment process. "The difference between saying, 'this act
is the one to be done, ...' and saying, 'The act _ought_ to be done,' is
merely verbal. The analysis of action is from the first an analysis of
what is to be done; how, then, should it come out excepting with a 'this
should be done'?"[88] The peculiarity of the 'ought' is that it applies
to conduct or action, whereas the 'is' applies to the facts. It has
reference to doing, or acting, as the situation demands. "This, then, is
the relation of moral theory and practice. Theory is the cross-section
of the given state of action in order to know the conduct that should
be; practice is the realization of the idea thus gained: in is theory in
action."[89]
The parallel between this article and "The Superstition of Necessity" is
too obvious to require formulation, and the same criticism that applies
to the one is applicable to the other. "The Superstition of Necessity"
is more detailed and concrete in its treatment of the judgment process
than this earlier article, as might be expected, but the fundamental
position is essentially the same. The synthetic activity of the self,
the thought-process, finally appears as the servant of action, or, more
exactly, as itself a special mode of organic activity in general.
From the basis of the standpoint which he had now attained Dewey
attempted a criticism of Green's moral theory, in two articles in the
_Philosophical Review_, in 1892 and 1893. The first of these, entitled
"Green's Theory of the Moral Motive,"[90] appeared almost two years
after the article on "Moral Theory and Practice." The continuity of
Dewey's thought during the intervening period, however, is indicated by
the fact that the first four pages of the article to be considered are
given over to an introductory discussion which repeats in almost
identical terms the position taken in "Moral Theory and Practice." Dewey
himself calls attention to this fact in a foot-note.
There must be, Dewey again asserts, some vital connection of theory with
practice. "Ethical theory must be a general statement of the reality
involved in every moral situation. It must be action stated in its more
generic terms, terms so generic that every individual action will fall
within the outlines it sets forth. If the theory agrees with these
requirements, then we have for use in any special case a tool for
analyzing that case; a method for attacking and reducing it, for laying
it open so that the action called for in order to meet, to satisfy it,
may readily appear."[91] Dewey argues that moral theory cannot possibly
give directions for every concrete case, but that it by no means follows
that theory can stand aside from the specific case and say: "What have I
to do with thee? Thou art empirical, and I am the metaphysics of
conduct."
Dewey's preliminary remarks are introductory to a consideration of
Green's ethical theory. "His theory would, I think," Dewey says, "be
commonly regarded as the best of the modern attempts to form a
metaphysic of ethic. I wish, using this as type, to point out the
inadequacy of such metaphysical theories, on the ground that they fail
to meet the demand just made of truly ethical theory, that it lend
itself to translation into concrete terms, and thereby to the guidance,
the direction of actual conduct."[92] Dewey recognizes that Green is
better than his theory, but says that the theory, taken in logical
strictness, cannot meet individual needs.
Dewey makes a special demand of Green's theory. He demands, that is,
that it supply a body of rules, or guides to action which can be
employed by the moral agent as tools of analysis in cases requiring
moral judgment. It is evident in advance that Green's theory was built
upon a different plan, and can not meet the conditions which Dewey
prescribes. The general nature of Green's inquiry is well stated in the
following summary by Professor Thilly: "The truth in Green's thought is
this: the purpose of all social devotion and reform is, after all, the
perfection of man on the spiritual side, the development of men of
character and ideals.... The final purpose of all moral endeavor must be
the realization of an attitude of the human soul, of some form of noble
consciousness in human personalities.... It is well enough to feed and
house human bodies, but the paramount question will always be: What
kinds of souls are to dwell in these bodies?"[93] To put the matter in
more technical terms, Green is concerned with ends and values. His
question is not, What is the best means of accomplishing a given
purpose, but, What end is worth attaining? Such an inquiry has no
immediate relation to action. It may lead to conclusions which become
determining factors in action, but the process of inquiry has no direct
reference to conduct. Dewey, having reduced thought to a function of
activity, must proceed, by logical necessity, to carry the same
reduction into the field of theory in general. This he does in thorough
style. His demand that moral theory shall concern itself with concrete
and 'specific' situations is a result of the same tendency. Since action
can only be described as response to a 'situation,' thought, as a
function of activity, must likewise be directed upon a 'situation.'
Conduct in general and values in general become impossible under his
system, because there is no such thing as an activity-in-general of the
organism. Ends, in other words, exist only for thought, when thought is
interpreted as transcending action, and being, in some sense,
self-contained. When thought is interpreted as a kind of 'indirect
activity,' its capacity for metaphysical inquiry vanishes along with its
independence.
It would have been more in keeping with sound criticism had Dewey
himself taken note of the important divergence in aim and intent between
his work and Green's. As a consequence of his failure to do so, he
fails, necessarily, to do justice to Green's standpoint. The criticism
which he directs against Green's moral theory may be briefly summed up
as follows.
Green tends to repeat the Kantian separation of the self as reason from
the self as want or desire. "The dualism between reason and sense is
given up, indeed, but only to be replaced by a dualism between the end
which would satisfy the self as a unity or whole, and that which
satisfies it in the particular circumstances of actual conduct."[94] As
a consequence of the separation of the ideal from the actual, no action
can satisfy the whole self, and thus no action can be truly moral. "No
thorough-going theory of total depravity ever made righteousness more
impossible to the natural man than Green makes it to a human being by
the very constitution of his being...."[95] Dewey traces this separation
of the self as reason from the self as desire through those passages in
which Green describes the moral agent as one who distinguishes himself
from his desires (Book II, _Prolegomena to Ethics_). "The process of
moral experience involves, therefore, a process in which the self, in
becoming conscious of its want, objectifies that want by setting it over
against itself; distinguishing the want from self and self from want....
Now this theory so far might be developed in either of two
directions."[96]
In the first place, the self-distinguishing process may be an activity
by means of which the self specifies its own activity and satisfaction.
"The particular desires and ends would be the modes in which the self
relieved itself of its abstractness, its undeveloped character, and
assumed concrete existence.... The unity of the self would stand in no
opposition to the particularity of the special desire; on the contrary,
the unity of the self and the manifold of definite desires would be the
synthetic and analytic aspects of one and the same reality, neither
having any advantage metaphysical or ethical over the other!"[97] But
Green, unfortunately, does not develop his theory in this concrete
direction. The self does not specify itself in the particulars, but
remains apart from them. "The objectification is not of the self in the
special end; but the self remains behind setting the special object over
against itself as not adequate to itself.... The unity of the self sets
up an ideal of satisfaction for itself as it withdraws from the special
want, and this ideal set up through negation of the particular desire
and its satisfaction constitutes the moral ideal. It is forever
unrealizable, because it forever negates the special activities through
which alone it might, after all, realize itself."[98] In completing this
argument Dewey refers to certain well-known passages in the _Prolegomena
to Ethics_, in which Green states that the moral ideal is never
completely attainable. Green's abstract conception of the self as that
which forever sets itself over against its desires is, Dewey argues, not
only useless as an ideal for action, but positively opposed to moral
striving. "It supervenes, not as a power active in its own satisfaction,
but to make us realize the unsatisfactoriness of such seeming
satisfactions as we may happen to get, and to keep us striving for
something which we can never get!"[99] The most that can be made of
Green's moral ideal is to conceive it as the bare form of unity in
conduct. Employed as a tool of analysis, as a moral rule, it might tell
us, "Whatever the situation, seek for its unity." But it can scarcely go
even as far as this in the direction of concreteness, for it says: "_No_
unity can be found in the situation because the situation is particular,
and therefore set over against the unity."[100]
Most students of Green would undoubtedly say that this account of his
moral theory is entirely one-sided, and fails to reckon with certain
elements which should properly be taken into account. In the first
place, Green is defining the moral agent as he finds him, and is
reporting what seems to him a fact when he says that the moral ideal is
too high to be realized in this life. Having a spiritual nature, man
fails to find satisfaction in the goods of natural life. Dewey should
address himself to the facts in refuting Green's analysis of human
nature. In the second place, with respect to Green's separation of the
self as unity from the self as a manifold of desires, Dewey's criticism
may be flatly rejected. Green raises the question himself: "'Do you
mean,' it may be asked, 'to assert the existence of a mysterious
abstract entity which you call the self of a man, apart from all his
particular feelings, desires, and thoughts--all the experience of his
inner life?'"[101] Green takes time to state his position as clearly as
possible. He repudiates the idea of an abstract self apart from desire.
The following passage is typical of his remarks: "Just as we hold that
our desires, feelings, and thoughts would not be what they are--would
not be those of a man--if not related to a subject which distinguishes
itself from each and all of them; so we hold that this subject would not
be what it is, if it were not related to the particular feelings,
desires, and thoughts, which it thus distinguishes from and presents to
itself."[102] It will be remembered also, that in moral action the agent
identifies himself with his desires, or adopts them as his own, and the
ability to do this is the chief mark of human intelligence. But man
could not identify himself with his desires, or 'specify himself in
them,' as Dewey says, did he not at the same time have the capacity to
differentiate himself from them.
Dewey's further remarks on Green's ideal need not be followed in detail,
since they rest upon a misapprehension of Green's purpose, and add
little to what he has already said. Taking the moral ideal as something
that can never be realized in this life, Dewey inquires what use can be
made of it. He considers three modes in which Green might have given
content to the ideal, as a working principle, and finds that it cannot
be made, in any of these ways, to serve as a tool of analysis. Green was
not prepared to meet these 'pragmatic' requirements. He did not propose
his ideal as a principle of conduct, in Dewey's sense; he stated that,
as a matter of fact, man is more than natural, and that, as such a
being, his ideals can never be completely met by natural objects. How
man is to act, in view of his spiritual nature, is a further question:
but the realization which the individual has of his own spiritual nature
must of necessity be a large factor in the determination of his conduct.
The 'Spiritual Nature,' in Green's terminology, meant a 'not-natural'
nature, and 'not-natural' in turn meant a nature that is not definable
in mechanical or biological terms. Dewey's criticism, therefore, went
wide of the mark.
In November, 1893, Dewey followed his criticism of Green's moral motive
by a second article in the _Philosophical Review_ on "Self-realization
as the Moral Ideal."[103] It continues the criticism which has already
been made of Green, but from a different point of departure.
The idea of self-realization in ethics, Dewey begins, may be helpful or
harmful according to the way in which the ideas of the self and its
realization are worked out in the concrete. The mere idea of a self to
be realized is, of course, abstract; it is merely the statement of a
problem, which needs to be worked out and given content. By way of
introducing his own idea of self-realization, Dewey proposes to
criticize a certain conception of the self which he finds in current
discussion. "The notion which I wish to criticize," he says, "is that of
the self as a presupposed fixed _schema_ or outline, while realization
consists in the filling up of this _schema_. The notion which I would
suggest as substitute is that of the self as always a concrete
_specific_ activity; and, therefore, (to anticipate) of the identity of
self and realization."[104] Such a presupposed fixed self is to be found
in Green's "Eternally complete Consciousness."
The idea of self-realization implies capacities or possibilities. To
translate capacity into actuality, as the conception of the fixed self
seems to do, is to vitiate the whole idea of possibility. There must,
then, be some conception of unrealized powers which will meet this
difficulty. The way to a valid conception is through the realization
that capacities are always specific. "The capacities of a child, for
example, are not simply of _a_ child, not of a man, but of _this_ child,
not of any other."[105] Whatever else capacity may be, whether infinite
or not, it must be an element in an actual situation. As specific
things, moreover, capacities reside in activities, which are now going
on. The capacity of a child to become a musician consists in this fact:
"Even _now_ he has a certain quickness, vividness, and plasticity of
vision, a certain deftness of hand, and a certain motor coordination by
which his hand is stimulated to work in harmony with his eye."[106]
How do these specific, actual activities come to be called capacities?
There is a peculiar psychological reason for this which James has
pointed out, in his statement that essence "is that _which is so
important for my interests_ that, comparatively, other properties may be
omitted."[107] When we pay attention to any activity, there is a natural
tendency to select only that portion of it that is of immediate
interest, and to exclude the rest as irrelevant. "In the act of vision,
for example," Dewey tells us, "the thing that seems nearest us, that
which claims continuously our attention, is the eye itself. We thus come
to abstract the eye from all special acts of seeing; we make the eye the
_essential_ thing in sight, and conceive of the circumstances of vision
as indeed _circumstances_; as more or less accidental concomitants of
the permanent eye."[108] There is no eye in general; the eye is always
given along with other circumstances which in their totality make up a
concrete seeing situation. Nevertheless, we abstract the eye from other
circumstances and set it up as the essence of seeing. But we cannot
retain the eye in absolute abstraction, because the concrete
circumstances of vision force themselves upon the attention. So we lump
these together on the other side as a new object, and take as their
essence the vibrations of ether. "_The eye now becomes the capacity of
seeing; the vibrations of ether, conditions required for the exercise of
the capacity._"[109] We keep the two abstractions, but try to restore
the unity of the situation through taking one as capacity and the other
as the condition of the exercise of capacity.
But we cannot stop even with this double abstraction. "The eye in
general and the vibrations in general do not, even in their unity,
constitute the act of vision. A multitude of other factors are
included."[110] Preserving the original 'core' as capacity, we tend to
treat all the attendant circumstances which occur frequently enough to
require taking account of, as conditions which help realize the
abstracted reality called capacity.
The discussion here is very much like that in "The Superstition of
Necessity" (published in the same year), which was reviewed in the last
chapter. Dewey calls attention to this connection in a foot-note,
remarking that he has already developed at greater length "the idea that
necessity and possibility are simply the two correlative abstractions
into which the one reality falls apart during the process of our
conscious apprehension of it."[111] The danger, Dewey says, is that the
merely relative character of a given capacity may be overlooked, and
that it may be ontologized into a fixed entity. This is the error, he
thinks, into which Green fell. The ideal self, as that which capacity
may realize, is ontologized into an already existent fact. Then we get a
separation between the present self, as capacity, and the ideal self
which is to be realized. The self already realized is opposed to the
self as yet ideal. "This 'realized self' is no reality by itself; it is
simply our partial conception of the self erected into an entity.
Recognizing its incomplete character, we bring in what we have left out
and call it the 'ideal self.' Then by way of dealing with the fact that
we have not two selves here at all, but simply a less and a more
adequate insight into the same self, we insert the idea of one of these
selves realizing the other."[112] It is in this manner that error
arises.
But what is the correct attitude toward the self? First of all, the self
must be conceived as "a working, practical self, carrying within the
rhythm of its own process both 'realized' and 'ideal' self. The current
ethics of the self ... are too apt to stop with a metaphysical
definition, which seems to solve problems in general, but at the expense
of the practical problems which alone really demand or admit
solution."[113] The first point of the argument is that the self
activity is individual, concrete, and specific, here and now, and the
second point is that if the self is to be talked of in an intelligent
way it must be taken as something empirically given. "The whole point is
expressed when we say that no possible future activities or conditions
have anything to do with the present action except as they enable us to
take deeper account of the present activity, to get beyond the mere
superficies of the act, to see it in its totality."[114] The phrase,
'realize yourself,' is a direction for knowledge; it means, see the
wider consequences of your act, realize its wider bearings.
Dewey says: "The fixed ideal is as distinctly the bane of ethical
science today as the fixed universe of mediaevalism was the bane of the
natural science of the Renascence."[115] This is a strong statement,
which indicates how wide was the gulf which now separated Dewey from
Green, whom he formerly acknowledged as his master.
Dewey's interpretation of Green's ideal self is far from satisfactory,
largely because of its lack of insight and appreciation. The reduction
of thought to a 'form of activity' renders a purely theoretical inquiry
impossible. The 'present activity,' the biological situation, becomes
the measure of all things, even of thought. Ideals, in his own words,
have nothing to do with present action, "except as they enable us to
take deeper account of the present activity." Dewey's self and Green's
are incommensurable. The former is the biological organism, with a
capacity for indirect activity called thinking; the latter is a
not-natural being, whose reality escapes the logic of descriptive
science, because of the fulness of its content. Dewey's failure to
understand this difference is significant. His acquaintance with Green
seems to have been formal from the beginning, never intimate, and the
articles just reviewed mark the end of Dewey's idealistic discipleship.
His psychological idealism, in fact, was fundamentally antithetical to
the Neo-Hegelianism which he had sought to espouse, and the development
of his own standpoint brought out the vital differences which had been
hidden from his earlier understanding. The idealism which seeks to view
reality together and as a whole is forever incompatible with a method
which seeks to interpret the whole in terms of one of its parts.
FOOTNOTES:
[75] Vol. I, pp. 186-203.
[76] _Ibid._, p. 186.
[77] _Ibid._
[78] _Op. cit._, p. 187.
[79] _Ibid._, p. 188.
[80] _Ibid._
[81] _Ibid._, p. 191 f.
[82] _Op. cit._, p. 189.
[83] _Ibid._, p. 194. Author's Italics.
[84] _Ibid._
[85] _Op. cit._, p. 195.
[86] _Ibid._, p. 198.
[87] _Op. cit._
[88] _Ibid._, p. 202.
[89] _Ibid._, p. 203.
[90] _Philosophical Review_, Vol. I, 1892, pp. 593-612.
[91] _Op. cit._, p. 596.
[92] _Ibid._, p. 597.
[93] _History of Philosophy_, p. 555.
[94] _Philosophical Review_, Vol. I, 1892, p. 598.
[95] _Ibid._
[96] _Ibid._, p. 599.
[97] _Ibid._ Compare with the passage in "Psychology as Philosophic
Method," _Mind_, Vol. XI, p. 9.
[98] _Op. cit._, p. 600.
[99] _Ibid._, p. 601.
[100] _Ibid._, p. 602.
[101] _Prolegomena to Ethics_, third ed., p. 103.
[102] _Ibid._, p. 104.
[103] Vol. II, pp. 652-664.
[104] _Ibid._, p. 653.
[105] _Ibid._, p. 655.
[106] _Op. cit._, p. 656.
[107] _Ibid._, p. 657.
[108] _Ibid._
[109] _Ibid._, p. 658. Author's italics.
[110] _Ibid._
[111] _Op. cit._, note.
[112] _Ibid._, p. 663.
[113] _Ibid._
[114] _Op. cit._, p. 659.
[115] _Ibid._, p. 664.