But it is manifest that such a belief in the command of a mo

THE ORIGIN

OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF

RIGHT AND WRONG

THE ORIGIN

OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF

RIGHT AND WRONG

BY FRANZ BRENTANO

ENGLISH TRANSLATION

BY CECIL HAGUE

FORMERLY LECTOR AT

PRAGUE UNIVERSITY

WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

WESTMINSTER

ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO LTD

2 WHITEHALL GARDENS

1902

BUTLER & TANNER,

THE SELWOOD PRINTING WORKS,

FROME, AND LONDON.

The present translation owes its origin to a desire on the part of the

translator of bringing to the wider notice of his fellow-countrymen a

work which has proved beneficial and stimulating to himself. Written

during short intervals of leisure while studying with Professor Anton

Marty of Prague University, it has had the advantage of his careful and

constant supervision. Without his aid it would scarcely have seen the

light. The translator has especially to thank Professor S. A. Alexander,

of Owens College, Manchester, for his valuable help in the general

revision and the translation of several difficult passages. It is now,

alas, too late to do more than record the translator’s debt to the late

Professor Adamson, of Glasgow University, whose revision and correction

of this essay was one of the last services rendered to the cause of

truth by a life-long disciple.

_West Dulwich, 1902._

AUTHOR’S PREFACE

This lecture, which I now bring before the notice of a larger public,

was delivered by me before the Vienna Law Society on January 23, 1889.

It then bore the title: “Of the Natural Sanction for Law and Morality.”

This title I have changed in order to bring its general purport more

clearly into prominence; otherwise I have made scarcely any further

alteration. Numerous notes have been added, and an already published

essay: “Miklosich on Subjectless Propositions” appended. In what way it

bears upon inquiries apparently so remote will be evident in the sequel.

The occasion of the lecture was an invitation extended to me by Baron

Von Hye, President of the Society. It was his wish that what had been

said here a few years ago by Ihering, as jurist, in his address, _Über

die Entstehung des Rechtsgefühls_, might in the same Society be

illustrated by me from the philosophic point of view. It would be a

mistake to assume from the incidental nature of the circumstances to

which it owed its first appearance that the Essay was only a fugitive,

occasional study. It embraces the fruits of many years’ reflection. The

discussions it contains form the ripest product of all that I have

hitherto published.

These thoughts form a fragment of a Descriptive Psychology, which, as I

now venture to hope, I may be enabled in the near future to publish in

its complete form. In its wide divergence from all that has hitherto

been put forward, and especially by reason of its being an essential

stage in the further development of some of the views advocated in my

_Psychology from the Empirical Standpoint_ it will be sufficiently

evident that during the period of my long literary retirement I have not

been idle.

Specialists in philosophy will find also in this lecture what will be at

once recognized as new. As regards the general reader, the rapidity with

which I pass from one question to another might at first completely

conceal many a sunken reef which required to be circumnavigated, many a

precipice which had to be avoided. Surely I, if any one, have reason,

owing to the conciseness of statement employed, to remember the saying

of Leibnitz and pay little attention to refutation and much to

demonstration. A glance at the notes--which, were they to do full

justice to the subject, would need to be multiplied an hundredfold--will

give him a further idea of those bye-paths which have misled so many,

and prevented their finding an issue to the labyrinth. Meantime I would

be well content--nay, I would regard it as the crown to all my

efforts--should all that has been said appear so self-evident to him

that he does not deem himself bound to thank me once in return.

No one has determined the principles of ethics as, on the basis of new

analyses, I have found it necessary to determine them, no one,

especially among those who hold that in the foundation of those

principles the feelings must find a place, have so radically and

completely broken with the subjective view of ethics. I except only

Herbart. But he lost himself in the sphere of aesthetic feeling, until

at last we find him so far from the track that he, who in the

theoretical philosophy is the irreconcilable enemy of contradiction,

nevertheless in practical philosophy (i.e. ethics) tolerates it when his

principles--the highest universally valid ideas--rush into conflict with

one another. Still his teaching remains in a certain aspect truly

related with mine, while, on other sides, other celebrated attempts to

discover a basis for ethics find in it points of contact.

In the notes, individual points are more sharply defined, a very

detailed examination of which would have been too prolix in the lecture.

Many an objection already urged has been met, many an expected rejoinder

anticipated. I also hope that some will be interested in the several

historical contributions, especially in the inquiries concerning

Descartes, where I trace back the doctrine of evidence to its causes and

point out two further thoughts, one of which has been misunderstood, the

other scarcely noticed, neither treated with the consideration they

deserve. I refer to his fundamental classification of mental states and

to his doctrine of the relation of love to joy, and of hate to sadness.

With several highly honoured investigators of the present--assuredly not

least honoured by myself--I have entered into a polemical debate, and

indeed most vigorously with those whose previous attack has compelled

me to a defence. I hope that they do not regard it as a violation of

_their_ claims, when I seek, to the utmost of my power, to help the

truth, which we in common serve, to her rights, and I assure them in

turn, that as I myself speak frankly, so also none the less do I welcome

with all my heart every sincere word of my opponent.

FRANZ BRENTANO.

CONTENTS

THE ORIGIN OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF RIGHT AND WRONG

A LECTURE

PAGE

1. Value of History and Philosophy for Jurisprudence; the new proposals

for the reform of legal studies in Austria 1

2. Our theme; Relation to Ihering’s lecture before the Vienna Law

Society 2

3. Twofold meaning of the expression “natural right” 2

4. Points of agreement with Ihering; rejection of the “jus naturae”

and “jus gentium”; pre-ethical political statutes 3

5. Opposition to Ihering; There exists a universally valid naturally

recognizable moral law. Relative independence of the question 4

6. The notion “natural sanction” 4

7. Manifold misconception of the same by philosophers 6

8. Habitually developed feeling of compulsion as such is no sanction 6

9. Motives of hope and fear as such not yet sanction 6

10. The thought of the arbitrary command of a higher power is not the

natural sanction 7

11. The ethical sanction is a command similar to the logical rule 8

12. The aesthetic point of view; as little in ethics as in logic

the right one 9

13. Kant’s Categorical Imperative an impracticable fiction 10

14. Necessity for preliminary psychological inquiries 10

15. No willing without a final end 10

16. The problem: which end is right? the chief problem of ethics 11

17. The right end is the best among attainable ends; obscureness

of this definition 11

18. Of the origin of the conception of the good; it has not its origin in

the sphere of the so-called external impression 12

19. The common characteristic of everything psychical 12

20. The three fundamental classes of psychical phenomena; idea

(Vorstellung), judgment, feeling (Gemütsbewegung) 13

21. The contrasts, belief and denial, love and hate 15

22. Of these opposed modes of relation one is always right, one wrong 15

23. The conception of the good 15

24. Distinction of the good in the narrow sense from what is good for

the sake of some other good 16

25. Love is not always a proof that an object is worthy to be loved 16

26. “Blind” and “self-evident” judgment 17

27. Analogous distinction in the sphere of pleasure and displeasure;

criterion of the good 18

28. Plurality of the good; problems associated therewith 21

29. Whether by “the better” is to be understood that which deserves

to be loved with more intensity 21

30. Right determination of the conception 22

31. When and how do we recognize that anything is in itself preferable?

The case of the opposite, of absence, of the addition of

like to like 23

32. Cases where the problem is insoluble 25

33. Whether the Hedonists in this respect would have the advantage 26

34. Why these failures prove less disadvantageous than might

be feared 27

35. The sphere of the highest practical good 28

36. The harmonious development 28

37. The natural sanction respecting the limits of right 29

38. The natural sanction for positive ethical laws 29

39. The power of the natural sanction 30

40. True and false relativity respecting ethical rules 30

41. Derivation of well known special enactments 32

42. Why other philosophers, by other ways, arrive at the same goal 32

43. Whence arise the universally extended ethical truths? Unclearness

concerning processes in one’s own consciousness 33

44. Trace of the influence of the moments severally mentioned 35

45. Lower currents exercising an influence 37

46. Necessity of guarding against overlooking the distinction between

ethical and pseudo-ethical development 39

47. Value of such developments in the pre-ethical time; establishment

of the social order; formation of dispositions; outlines of laws

at the disposal of legislative ethical authority; security against

doctrinaire tendencies 39

48. Beneficent influences which still operate continually

from this side 41

49. A further word on the reform of politico-legal studies 42

NOTES.

PAGE

13. In defence of my characterization of Herbart’s ethical criterion 44

14. Of Kant’s Categorical Imperative 44

16. The Nicomachean Ethics and Ihering’s “fundamental idea” in

his work; _Der Zweck im Recht_ 46

17. Of the cases of smaller chances in the effort after higher ends 46

18. Of the dependence of the conceptions upon concrete perceptions 46

19. The term “intentional” 47

21. The fundamental classification of mental states in Descartes 47

22. Windelband’s error in respect of the fundamental classification of

mental states; short defence of various attacks upon my _Psychology

from the Empirical Standpoint_; Land, on a supposed improvement on

formal logic; Steinthal’s criticism of my doctrine of judgment 50

23. In criticism of Sigwart’s theories of the existential and

negative judgments 55

24. Descartes on the relation of “love” to “joy” and of “hate” to

“sadness” 69

25. Of the notions of truth and existence 69

26. Of the unity of the notion of the good 71

27. Of “evidence.” Descartes “Clara et distincta perceptio.” Sigwart’s

doctrine of “evidence” and his “postulates” 71

28. Of ethical subjectivism. Aristotle’s oversight in respect of the

source of our knowledge of the good. Parallels between his

error in respect of the feelings (Gemütsthätigkeit), and Descartes’

doctrine of the “Clara et distincta perceptio” as a pre-condition

of the logically justified judgment; modern views which approach

to this doctrine 78

29. Of the expressions “gut gefallen” and “schlecht gefallen” 84

31. Typical case of a constant geometrical relation of mental values 85

32. Cases in which something at the same time both pleases and

displeases 85

33. Establishment of universal laws of valuation on the basis of a

single experience 86

34. Certain moments in the theory of ethical knowledge are of more

importance for the theodicy than for ethics itself 87

35. Explanation of the manner in which anything in certain cases is

recognized as preferable 87

36. The two cases, unique in their kind, in which preferability becomes

clear for us from a certain character in the act of preference 87

39. Gauss on the measurement of intensities 89

40. Against exaggerated expectations from the so-called psycho-physical

law 89

40. Defence against the objection of a too great ethical rigour 90

41. Love of neighbour in harmony with greater care of one’s own good 91

43. Why the narrowness of human foresight should not do injury to

moral courage 92

44. In criticism of Ihering’s view of the notion of right and of his

criticism of older views 93

45. Of the provisional ethical sanction of objectionable laws 96

60. Self-contradiction of Epicurus 97

64-65. Proof for the law of addition of like to like; testimony for it in

the teaching of the Stoa, of the theistic Hedonists, and in the

demand for immortality; Helmholtz 98

67. The great theologians are opponents of the arbitrary character of

the divine law of morals 99

68. John Stuart Mill on the doctrine of the distinction between

“blind” and “self-evident judgments” 99

(The numbers missing in the index contain only literary references.)

MIKLOSICH ON SUBJECTLESS PROPOSITIONS

(Appendix to pages 14 and 55).

I. Short sketch of the essential features treated in Miklosich’s

article 105

II. Critical remarks 110

Biographical Note 119

A LECTURE

1. The invitation to lecture extended to me by the Law Society was the

more binding as it gave expression in strong terms to a conviction

which, unfortunately, seems on the point of falling into abeyance.

Proposals for a reform of legal studies have been heard (and they are

even said to have proceeded from university circles) which can only mean

that the roots of jurisprudence deeply implanted as they are in the

spheres of ethics and national history may be severed, without the

organism itself suffering any vital injury.

As regards history, this counsel is to me, I confess, utterly

inexplicable; in respect of philosophy, I can excuse it only on the

ground that the men who at present occupy the chairs in the legal

faculty have taken a deep and gloomy impression of the mistakes of a

period which has lately passed away. A personal reproach may therefore

well be spared them. Yet indeed such suggestions were every bit as wise

as would be the case if a medical faculty were to propose to erase from

their plan of obligatory studies zoology, physics and chemistry.

If Leibnitz in his _Vita a se ipso lineata_, speaking of himself, says:

“I found that my earlier studies in history and philosophy lightened

materially my study of law,” and if, as in his _Specimen difficultatis

in jure_, deploring the prejudices of contemporary jurists, he exclaims:

“Oh! that those who busy themselves with the study of law would throw

aside their contempt of philosophy and see that without philosophy most

of the questions of their jus form a labyrinth without issue!” what

indeed would he say were he to rise again to-day, to these retrograde

reform movements?

2. The worthy President of the Society, who has retained such a lively

and wide sense of the real scientific needs of his profession, expressed

to me his own special wishes respecting the theme to be chosen. The

question as to the existence of a natural right was, he said, a subject

which enjoyed an exceptional interest with the members of the Law

Society; and he himself was anxious to learn what attitude I would adopt

with regard to the views there expressed by Ihering some years ago.[1]

I consented gladly, and have therefore designated as the subject of my

lecture the natural sanction for law and morality, wishing thereby, at

the same time, to indicate in what sense alone I believe in a natural

right.

3. For a two-fold meaning may be associated with the term “natural”:--

(1) It may mean as much as “given by nature,” “innate,” in

contradistinction to what has been acquired during historical

development either by deduction or by experience.

(2) It may mean, in contradistinction to what is determined by the

arbitrary will of a dictator, the rules which, in and for

themselves and in virtue of their nature are recognized as right

and binding.

Ihering rejects natural right in either of these meanings.[2] I, for my

part, agree as thoroughly with him regarding the one meaning as I differ

from him regarding the other.

4. I agree completely with Ihering when, following the example of John

Locke, he denies all innate moral principles.

Further, like him, I believe neither in the grotesque _jus naturae_,

i.e. _quod natura ipsa omnia animalia docuit_, nor in a _jus gentium_,

in a right which, as the Roman jurists defined it, is recognized as a

natural law of reason by the universal agreement of all nations.

It is not necessary to have gone deeply into zoology and physiology in

order to see that we can no longer use the animal world as a criterion

for the setting up of ethical standards, even if one is not disposed to

go so far as Rokitansky in pronouncing protoplasma, with its aggressive

character, an unrighteous and evil principle.

As to a common code of right for all nations, such a belief was a

delusion which might hold good in the antique world; in modern times

when the ethnographical horizon has been extended, and the customs of

barbarous races drawn upon for comparison, these laws can no longer be

recognized as a product of nature, but only as a product of culture

common to the more advanced nations.

As regards all this, therefore, I am in agreement with Ihering; I am

also substantially in agreement with him when he asserts that there have

been times without any trace of ethical knowledge and ethical feeling;

at any rate without anything of the kind that was commonly accepted.

Indeed I acknowledge unhesitatingly that this state of things continued

even when larger communities under state government had been

constituted. When Ihering, in support of this view, points to Greek

mythology with its gods and goddesses destitute of moral thought and

feeling, and maintains that, by the lives of the gods, the life of

mankind in the period in which these myths took shape may be

interpreted,[3] he does but use a method of proof which Aristotle has

already employed in a similar manner in his _Politics_.[4] This also

must therefore be conceded him, and we shall, on this ground, no longer

deny that the earliest political laws supported by penal sanction were

established without the help of any feeling of right founded upon moral

insight. There are, therefore, no natural moral laws and legal precepts

in the sense that they are given by nature herself, that they are

innate; in this respect, Ihering’s views have our entire approval.

5. We have now to meet the second and far more important question: Do

there exist truths concerning morality, taught by nature herself, and is

there moral truth, independent of all ecclesiastical, political, in fact

every kind of social authority? Is there a natural moral law which, in

its nature, is universally and incontestably valid for men of every

place and time, valid indeed for every kind of thinking and sentient

being; and does the knowledge of it lie within the realm of our mental

faculties? Here we are at the point where I join issue with Ihering. To

this question, which Ihering answers in the negative, I return a decided

affirmative. Which of us is here in the right our present inquiry into

the natural sanction for law and morality will, I hope, make clear.

At any rate, the decision as to the former question, whatever Ihering[5]

himself may think to the contrary, does not in any way prejudge the

latter. Innate prejudices do exist; these are natural in the former

sense, but they lack natural sanction; whether true or false, they

possess no immediate validity. On the other hand, there are many

propositions recognized after a natural manner, which are incontestably

certain and have universal validity for all thinking beings, which,

however, as, for example, the Pythagorean theorem are anything but

innate, else the blissful first discoverer had never offered his

hecatomb to the god.

6. In what has been said I have made it sufficiently evident how, when I

speak of natural sanction, I understand the notion of sanction. Yet it

will be well to linger a moment in order to exclude another inadequate

view.

“Sanction” signifies “making fast.” Now a law may be fixed in a double

sense:

(1) It may be fixed in the sense of becoming law, as when a

proposed law receives validity by ratification on the part of the

highest legislative authority.

(2) In the sense of being rendered more effectual by attaching to

it positive punishments, perhaps also rewards.

It is in this latter sense that sanction was spoken of by writers of

antiquity, as when Cicero[6] says of the leges Porciae: “Neque quicquam

praeter sanctionem attulerunt novi”; and Ulpian:[7] “Interdum in

sanctionibus adijicitur, ut qui ibi aliquid commisit, capite puniatur.”

It is in the former sense that the expression is more usual in modern

times; a law is said to be “sanctioned” when it secures validity by

receiving confirmation at the hands of the highest authority.

Manifestly sanction in the second sense presupposes sanction in the

first, which sanction is the more essential, since, without it, the law

would not truly be law at all. Such a natural sanction therefore is of

the last necessity if anything whatever is to bear by nature the stamp

of law or morality.

7. If we now compare with such a view what has been said by philosophers

concerning the natural sanction for morality, it will be easily seen how

often they have overlooked its essential character.

8. Many think that they have discovered a natural sanction in respect of

a certain line of conduct when they have shown that a certain feeling of

compulsion so to act is developed within the individual. Since every

one, for example, renders services to others in order to receive similar

services in return, there at last arises a habit of performing such

services even in cases where there has been no thought of recompense.[8]

This it is which is thought to constitute the sanction for love of our

neighbour.

But this view is entirely erroneous. Such a feeling of compulsion is

certainly a force driving to action, but it is assuredly not a sanction

conferring validity. Besides, the inclination to vice develops according

to the same law of habit, and exercises, as an impulse, the most

unbounded sway. The miser’s passion which leads him, in his desire of

amassing riches, to submit to the heaviest sacrifices and to commit the

most extreme cruelties, certainly constitutes no sanction for his

conduct.

9. Again, motives of hope or fear that a certain manner of behaviour,

as, for example, regard for the general good, will render us agreeable

or disagreeable to other and more powerful beings, these it has often

been sought to regard as a sanction for such conduct.[9] But it is

manifest that the most cringing cowardice, the most servile flattery

might then boast a natural sanction. As a matter of fact virtue shines

out most brightly where neither threats nor entreaties are able to

divert her from the right path.

10. Some speak of an education in which man, as belonging to an order of

living beings accustomed to live in society, receives from those by whom

he is surrounded. An injunction is repeatedly laid upon him, the

command: “You ought.” It lies in the nature of things that certain

actions are very frequently and generally required of him. There is thus

formed an association between his mode of action and the thought: “You

ought.” And so it may happen that he may come to regard, as the source

of this command, the society in which he lives, or even something

vaguely conceived to be higher than an individual, that is to say,

something regarded in a way as superhuman. The “ought” associated by him

with such a being would then constitute the sanction of conscience.[10]

In this case the natural sanction would then consist in the naturally

developed belief in the command of a more powerful will.

But it is manifest that such a belief in the command of a more powerful

being contains, as yet, nothing which deserves the name of a sanction.

Such a conviction is shared by one who knows himself to be at the mercy

of a tyrant or of a robber horde. Whether he obey, or bid defiance, the

command itself contains nothing able to give to the required act a

sanction similar to that of the conscience. Even if he obey he does so

through fear, not because he regards the command as one based on right.

The thought, therefore, that an act is commanded by some one does not

constitute a natural sanction. In the case of every command issued by an

external will the question arises: Is such a command authorized or is

it not? Neither is there any reference here to a command enforced by a

still higher power enjoining obedience to the former. For then the

question would again reappear, and we should proceed from one command to

another enjoining obedience to the former, and from that to a third

enjoining in like manner obedience to the second, and so on _ad infin_.

Just as in the case of the feeling of compulsion, and in that of the

fear or hope of recompense, so also the thought of the command of an

external will cannot possibly be the sanction for law and morality.

11. But there are also commands in an essentially different sense;

commands in the sense in which we speak of the commands of logic

respecting our judgments and conclusions. We are not here concerned with

the will of logic, since a will logic manifestly has not, nor with the

will of the logician, to which we have in no way sworn allegiance. The

laws of logic are naturally valid rules of judging, that is to say, we

are obliged to conform to them, since conformity to these rules ensures

certainty in our judgments, whereas judgments diverging from these rules

are liable to error. What we therefore mean is a natural superiority

which thought-processes in conformity with law have over such as are

contrary to law. So also in ethics, we are not concerned with the

command of an external will but rather with a natural preference similar

to that in logic, and the law founded on that preference. This has been

emphasized not only by Kant but also by the majority of great thinkers

before him. Nevertheless there are still many--unfortunately even among

the adherents of the empirical school to which I myself belong--by whom

this fact has neither been rightly understood nor appreciated.

12. In what then lies this special superiority which gives to morality

its natural sanction? Some regarded it as, in a sense, external, they

believed its superiority to consist in beauty of appearance. The Greeks

called noble and virtuous conduct Τὀ καλὁν, the beautiful, and the

perfect man of honour καλοκἀγαθός; though none of the philosophers of

antiquity set up this aesthetic view as a criterion. On the other hand,

David Hume[11], among modern thinkers, has spoken of a moral sense of

the beautiful which acts as arbiter between the moral and the immoral,

while still more recently the German philosopher, Herbart,[12] has

subordinated ethics to aesthetics.

Now I do not deny that the aspect of virtue is more agreeable than that

of moral perversity. But I cannot concede that in this consists the only

and essential superiority of ethical conduct. It is rather an inner

superiority which distinguishes the moral from the immoral will, in the

same way that it is an inner superiority which distinguishes true and

self evident judgments and conclusions from prejudices and fallacies.

Here also it cannot be denied that a prejudice, a fallacy has in it

something unbeautiful, often indeed something ridiculously

narrow-minded, which makes the person so scantily favoured by Minerva

appear in a most disadvantageous attitude; yet who, on this account,

would class the rules of logic among those of aesthetics, or make logic

a branch of aesthetics?[13] No, the real logical superiority is no mere

aesthetic appearance but a certain inward rightness which then carries

with it a certain superiority of appearance. It will, therefore, be

also a certain inward rightness which constitutes the essential

superiority of one particular act of will over another of an opposite

character; in which consists the superiority of the moral over the

immoral.

The belief in this superiority is an ethical motive; the knowledge of it

is the right ethical motive, the sanction which gives to ethical law

permanence and validity.

13. But are we capable of attaining to such knowledge? Here lies the

difficulty which philosophers have for a long time sought in vain to

solve. Even to Kant it seemed as though none had found the right end of

the thread by means of which to unravel the skein. This the Categorical

Imperative was to do. It resembled however, rather the sword drawn by

Alexander to cut the Gordian knot. With such a palpable fiction the

matter is not to be set right.[14]

14. In order to gain an insight into the true origin of ethical

knowledge it will be necessary to take some account of the results of

later researches in the sphere of descriptive psychology. The limited

time at my disposal makes it necessary for me to set forth my views very

briefly, and I have reason to fear that by its conciseness the

completeness of the statement may suffer. Yet it is just here that I ask

your special attention, in order that what is most essential to a right

understanding of the problem be not overlooked.

15. The subject of the moral and immoral is termed the will. What we

will is, in many cases, a means to an end. In that case we will this end

also, and even in a higher degree than the means. The end itself may

often be the means to a further end; in a far reaching plan there may

often appear a whole series of ends, the one being always connected in

subordination to the other as a means. There must be present, however,

one end, which is desired above all others and for its own sake; without

this essential and final end all incentive would be lacking, and this

would involve the absurdity of aiming without a goal at which to aim.

16. The means we employ in order to gain an end may be manifold, may be

right or wrong. They are right when they are really adapted to the

attainment of the end.

The ends, also, even the most essential and final ends, may be manifold.

It is a mistake which appeared especially in the eighteenth century,

nowadays the tendency is more and more to abandon it, that every one

seeks the same end, namely, his own highest possible pleasure.[15]

Whoever can believe that the martyr facing with full consciousness the

most terrible tortures for the sake of his conviction--and there were

some who had no hope of recompense hereafter--was thus inspired by a

desire after the greatest possible pleasure, such a man must have either

a very defective sense of the facts of the case, or, indeed, have lost

all measure of the intensities of pleasure and pain.

This, therefore, is certain: even final ends are manifold, between them

hovers the choice, which, since the final end is for everything the

determining principle, is of the most importance. What ought I to strive

after? Which end is the right one, which wrong? This, as Aristotle long

ago declared, is the essential, the cardinal question in ethics.[16]

17. Which end is right, for which should our choice declare itself?

Where the end is fixed and it is merely a question as to the choice of

means, we reply: Choose means which will certainly attain the end. Where

it is a question as to the choice of ends we would say: Choose an end

which reason regards as really attainable. This answer is, however,

insufficient, many a thing attainable is rather to be shunned than

sought after; choose the best among attainable ends, this alone is the

adequate answer.[17]

But the answer is obscure; what do we mean by “the best”? what can be

called “good” at all? and how can we attain to the knowledge that one

thing is good and better than another?

18. In order to answer this question satisfactorily, we must, above all,

inquire into the origin of the conception of the good, which lies, like

the origin of all our conceptions, in certain concrete impressions.[18]

We possess impressions with _physical_ content. These exhibit to us

sensuous qualities localized in space. Out of this sphere arise the

conceptions of colour, sound, space and many others. The conception of

the good, however, has not here its origin. It is easily recognizable

that the conception of the good like that of the true, which, as having

affinity, is rightly placed side by side with it, derives its origin

from concrete impressions with _psychical_ content.

19. The common feature of everything psychical consists in what has been

called by a very unfortunate and ambiguous term, consciousness; i.e. in

a subject-attitude; in what has been termed an _intentional_ relation to

something which, though perhaps not real, is none the less an inner

object of perception[19] No hearing without the heard, no believing

without the believed, no hoping without the hoped for, no striving

without the striven for, no joy without the enjoyed, and so with other

mental phenomena.

20. The sensuous qualities which are given in our impressions with

physical content exhibit manifold differences. So also do the

intentional relations given in our impressions with psychical content.

And, as in the former case, the number of the senses is determined by

reference to those distinctions between sensuous qualities which are

most fundamental (called by Helmholtz distinctions of modality), so in

the latter case the number of fundamental classes of mental phenomena is

fixed by reference to the most fundamental distinctions of intentional

relation.[20]

In this way we distinguish three fundamental classes. Descartes in his

_Meditations_[21] was the first to exhibit these rightly and completely;

but sufficient attention has not been paid to his observations, and they

were soon quite forgotten, until in recent times, and independently of

him, these were again discovered. Nowadays they may lay claim to

sufficient verification.[22]

The first fundamental class is that of ideas (Vorstellungen) in the

widest sense of the term (Descartes’ ideae). This class embraces

concrete impressions, those for example which are given to us through

the senses, as well as every abstract conception.

The second fundamental class is judgment (Descartes’ judicia). Previous

to Descartes these were thought of as forming, along with ideas, _one_

fundamental class, and since Descartes’ time philosophy has fallen once

more into this error. This view regarded judgment as consisting

essentially in a combination or relation of ideas to one another. This

was a gross misconception of its true nature. We may combine or relate

ideas as we please, as in speaking of a golden mountain, the father of a

hundred children, a friend of science; but as long as nothing further

takes place there can be no judgment. Equally true is it that an idea

always forms the basis of a judgment, as also of a desire; but it is not

true that, in a judgment, there are always several ideas related to one

another as subject and predicate. This is certainly the case when I say:

“God is just,” though not when I say: “There is a God.”

What, therefore, distinguishes those cases where I have not only an idea

but also a judgment? There is here added to the act of presentation a

second intentional relation to the object given in presentation, a

relation either of recognition or rejection. Whoever says: “God,” gives

expression to the idea of God; whoever says: “There is a God,” gives

expression to a belief in him.

I must not linger here, and can only assure you that this, if anything,

admits to-day of no denial. From the philological standpoint Miklosich

confirms the results of psychological analysis.[23]

The third fundamental class consists of the emotions in the widest sense

of the term, from the simple forms of inclination or disinclination in

respect of the mere idea, to joy and sadness arising from conviction and

to the most complicated phenomena as to the choice of ends and means.

Aristotle long since included these under the term Ὄρεζις. Descartes

says this class embraces the _voluntates sive affectus_. As in the

second fundamental class the intentional relation was one of recognition

or rejection, so in the third class it is one of love or hate, (or, as

it might be equally well expressed,) a form of pleasing or displeasing.

Loving, pleasing, hating, displeasing, these are given in the simplest

forms of inclination or disinclination, in victorious joy as well as in

despairing sorrow, in hope and fear, and in every form of voluntary

activity. “Plait-il?” asks the Frenchman; “es hat Gott gefallen,” one

reads in (German) announcements of a death; while the “Placet,” written

when confirming an act, is the expression of the determining fiat of

will.[24]

21. In comparing these three classes of phenomena it is found that the

two last mentioned show an analogy which, in the first, is absent. There

exists, that is, an opposition of intentional relation; in the case of

judgment, recognition or rejection, in the case of the emotions, love or

hate, pleasure or displeasure. The idea shows nothing of a similar

nature. I can, it is true, conceive of opposites, as for example white

and black, but whether I believe in this black or deny it, I can only

represent it to myself in one way; the representation does not alter

with the opposite act of judgment; nor again, in the case of the

feelings, when I change my attitude towards it according as it pleases

or displeases me.

22. From this fact follows an important conclusion. Concerning acts of

the first class none can be called either right or wrong. In the case of

the second class on the other hand, one of the two opposed modes of

relation, affirmation and rejection, is right the other wrong, as logic

has long affirmed. The same naturally holds good of the third class. Of

the two opposed modes of relation, love and hate, pleasure and

displeasure, in each case one is right the other wrong.

23. We have now reached the place where the notions of good and bad,

along with the notions of the true and the false which we have been

seeking, have their source. We call anything true when the recognition

related to it is right.[25] We call something good when the love

relating to it is right. That which can be loved with a right love, that

which is worthy of love, is good in the widest sense of the term.

24. Since everything which pleases does so, either for its own sake, or

for the sake of something else which is thereby produced, conserved or

rendered probable, we must distinguish between a primary and a secondary

good, i.e. what is good in itself, and what is good on account of

something else, as is specially the case in the sphere of the useful.

What is good in itself is the good in the narrower sense. It alone can

stand side by side with the true. For everything which is true is true

in itself, even when only mediately known. When we speak of good later

we shall therefore mean, whenever the contrary is not expressly

asserted, that which is good in itself.

In this way we have, I hope, made clear the notion of good.[26]

25. There follows now the still more important question: How are we to

know that anything is good? Ought we to say that whatever is loved and

is capable of being loved is worthy of love and is good? This is

manifestly untrue, and it is almost inconceivable that some have fallen

into this error. One loves what another hates, and, in accordance with a

well known psychological law already previously referred to it often

happens that what at first was desired merely as a means to something

else, comes at last from habit to be desired for its own sake. In such a

way the miser is irrationally led to heap up riches and even to

sacrifice himself for their sake. The actual presence of love,

therefore, by no means testifies unconditionally to the worthiness of

the object to be loved, just as affirmation is no unconditional proof of

what is true.

It might even be said that the first statement is even more _evident_

than the second, since it can hardly happen that he who affirms anything

at the same time holds it to be false, whereas it frequently happens

that a person, even while loving something, confesses himself that it is

unworthy of his love:

“Video meliora proboque,

Deteriora sequor.”

How then are we to know that anything is good?

26. The matter appears enigmatical, but the enigma finds a very easy

solution.

As a preliminary step to answering the question, let us turn our glance

from the good to the true.

Not everything which we affirm is on this account true. Our judgments

are frequently quite blind. Many a prejudice which we drank in, as it

were, with our mother’s milk presents to us the appearance of an

irrefutable principle. To other equally blind judgments all men have, by

nature, a kind of instinctive impulsion, as, for example, in trusting

blindly to the so-called external impression, or to a recent

remembrance. What is so recognized may often be true, but it may equally

well be false since the affirming judgment contains nothing which gives

to it the character of rightness.

Such, however, is the case in certain other judgments, which in

contradistinction to these blind judgments may be termed “obvious,”

“self-evident” judgments; as, for example, the Principle of

Contradiction, and every so-called inner perception which informs me

that I am now experiencing sensations of sound or colour, or think and

will this or that.

In what, then, does the distinction between these lower and higher forms

of judgment essentially consist? Is it a distinction in the degree of

belief, or is it something else? It is not a distinction in the degree

of belief; the instinctive blind assumptions arising from habit are

often not in the slightest degree weakened by doubts, and we are unable

to get rid of some even when we have already seen their logical falsity.

But such assumptions are the results of blind impulse, they have nothing

of the clearness peculiar to the higher forms of judgment. Were the

question to be raised: “What is then your reason for believing that?” no

rational answer would be forthcoming. It is quite true that if the same

inquiry were to be made respecting the immediately evident judgment here

also no reason could be given, but in face of the clearness of the

judgment the inquiry would appear utterly beside the point, in fact

ridiculous. Every one experiences for himself the difference between

these two classes of judgment, and in the reference to this experience,

consists, as in the case of every conception, the final explanation.

27. All this is, in its essentials, universally known,[27] and is

contested only by a few, and then not without great inconsistency. Far

fewer have noticed an analogous distinction between the higher and lower

forms of the feelings of pleasure and displeasure.

Our pleasure or displeasure is often quite like blind judgment, only an

instinctive or habitual impulse. This is so in the case of the miser’s

pleasure in piling up, in those powerful feelings of pleasure and pain

connected in men and animals alike with the appearance of certain

sensuous qualities, moreover, as is especially noticeable in tastes,

different species and even different individuals, are affected in a

quite contrary manner.

Many philosophers, and among them very considerable thinkers, have

regarded only that mode of pleasure which is peculiar to the lower

phenomena of the class, and have entirely overlooked the fact that there

exists a pleasure and a displeasure of a higher kind. David Hume, for

example, betrays almost in every word that he has absolutely no idea of

the existence of this higher class.[28] How general this oversight has

been may be judged from the fact that language has no common name for

it.[29] Yet the fact is undeniable and we propose now to elucidate it by

a few examples.

We have already said that we are endowed by nature with a pleasure for

some tastes and an antipathy for others, both of which are purely

instinctive. We also naturally take pleasure in clear insight,

displeasure in error or ignorance. “All men,” says Aristotle in the

beautiful introductory words of his _Metaphysics_,[30] “naturally desire

knowledge.” This desire is an example which will serve our purpose. It

is a pleasure of that higher form which is analogous to _self-evidence_

in the sphere of judgment. In our species it is universal. Were there

another species which, while having different preferences from us in

respect of sensible qualities, were opposed to us in loving error for

its own sake and hating insight, then assuredly we should not in the

latter as in the former case say: that it was a matter of taste, “de

gustibus non est disputandum”; rather we should here answer decisively

that such love and hatred were fundamentally absurd, that such a species

hated what was undeniably good, and loved what was undeniably bad in

itself. Now why, where the feeling of compulsion is equally strong, do

we answer differently in the one case than in the other? The answer is

simple. In the former case the feeling of compulsion was an instinctive

impulse; in the latter the natural feeling of pleasure is a higher love,

having the character of rightness.[31] We therefore notice when we

ourselves have such a feeling, that its object is not merely loved and

lovable, its opposite hated and unlovable, but also that the one is

worthy of love, the other worthy of hatred, and therefore that one is

good, the other bad.

Another example. As we prefer insight to error, so also, generally

speaking, we prefer joy (unless indeed it be joy in what is bad) to

sadness. Were there beings among whom the reverse held good, we should

regard such conduct as perverse, and rightly so. Here too it is because

our love and our hatred are qualified as right.

A third example is found in feeling itself so far as it is right and has

the character of rightness. As was the case with the rightness and

evidence of the judgment, so also the rightness and higher character of

the feelings are also reckoned as good, while love of the bad is itself

bad.[32]

In order that, in the sphere of ideas, we may not leave the

corresponding experiences unmentioned: here in the same way every idea

is found to be something good in itself, and that with every enlargement

in the realm of our ideas, quite apart from what of good or bad may

result therefrom, the good within us is increased.[33]

Here then, and from such experiences of love qualified as right, arises

within us the knowledge that anything is truly and unmistakably good in

the full extent to which we are capable of such knowledge.[34]

This last clause is added advisedly; for we must not, of course, conceal

from ourselves the fact that we have no guarantee that everything which

is good will arouse within us a love with the character of rightness.

Wherever this is not the case our criterion fails, and the good then, so

far as our knowledge and practical account of it are concerned, is as

much as non-existent.[35]

28. It is, however, not _one_ but many things which we thus recognize as

good. And so the questions remain: In that which is good, and especially

in what, as good, is attainable, which is the better? and further, which

is the highest practical good? so that it may become the standard for

our actions.

29. We must first inquire: When is anything better than anything else

and recognized by us as better? and what is meant by “the better” at

all?

The Origin of the Knowledge of Right and Wrong · 第 1 / 14 段