CONCLUDING CHAPTER.

ETHICS AND METAPHYSICS.

§ 1. GENERAL REMARKS.--It must be evident to the discerning reader that, in what has gone before, we have occasionally been skating on rather thin ice. The ultimate questions to which we have been led have not received any quite satisfactory solution. We have perhaps seen the insufficiency of all other theories of Ethics more fully than we have seen the sufficiency of that which we have been led to adopt. The truth is that the theory of Ethics which seems most satisfactory has a metaphysical basis, and without the consideration of that basis there can be no thorough understanding of it. If we could have satisfied ourselves with a Hedonistic theory, a psychological basis might perhaps have sufficed. On the other hand, if one of the current evolution theories could be accepted, we might look for our basis in the study of biology. But if we rest our view of Ethics on the idea of the development of the ideal self or of the rational universe, the significance of this cannot be made fully apparent without a metaphysical examination of the nature of the self; nor can its validity be established except by a discussion of the reality of the rational universe. Some further examination of this point seems now to be demanded.

§ 2. VALIDITY OF THE IDEAL.-The general result of

our inquiry may be summed up as follows. We have seen that the moral consciousness presents itself first of all in the form of law, a supreme command or categorical imperative imposed on the will of the individual. Hence, when reflection begins on the nature of morality, the first theory which presents itself is one that conceives of it as an absolute law of Duty. But this breaks down, because, as we have seen, when this idea is carefully analyzed, it is found to yield no content. The next form in which the idea of morality presents itself is that of the Good; and this is naturally thought of at first simply as that which satisfies desire, i. e. as the pleasant. But the pleasant is formless, just as the law of Duty is empty; and we are thus led to look for a more adequate conception of the Good. This is found in the idea of the complete realization of the essential nature of mankind. But in order to understand this, it is necessary to study the nature of mankind in its concrete development. Accordingly, we have been led to notice, in a brief and summary fashion, the ways in which the realization of humanity may be regarded as accomplishing itself through the various institutions of social life, through the duties and virtues which grow up in connection with these, through the growth of the inner life of the individual, and through the progressive development of human history. Through these various activities mankind may be seen to be gradually attaining to that complete rationality which can only be reached through the complete grasping of the world of experience, and bringing it into intelligible relationship to ourselves. This process cannot be seen to complete itself within the actual moral life of mankind: and the ideal involved in the

moral life is consequently unfulfilled. Life remains at the best incomplete-a noble work, it may be, but a torso. Now this incompleteness in the concrete realization of the moral ideal brings with it the further defect that the validity of the moral ideal is not fully made apparent in the course of its concrete realization. If mankind could be supposed actually to attain that complete development of human faculty, that complete bringing of the world into intelligible and harmonious relationship to the human consciousness, at which we may be said to aim, the result would no doubt be seen to be so satisfying in itself that it would be impossible to question the validity of the ideal as an object of human effort. But this complete justification is not possible so long as the process is not fully worked out. Now it is this insufficiency in the moral life that leads us to the point of view of religion; and perhaps some consideration of the latter may enable us to see more clearly the nature of the ultimate problem which is involved in the moral consciousness.

3. MORALITY AND RELIGION.-Matthew Arnold, as is well known, defined religion as "morality touched with emotion." "This," remarks Mr. Muirhead,1 "does not carry us far. Emotion is not a distinctive mark of religious conduct. All conduct . . . is touched with emotion, otherwise it would not be conduct at all." This criticism is perhaps not entirely fair. conduct is in a sense touched with emotion-i. e. it involves an element of feeling. So does all conscious life. But this need not prevent us from distinguishing between emotional and unemotional acts and states. In ordinary life the element of feeling is to all intents 1 Elements of Ethics, p. 180.

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in abeyance. It influences us quietly, but does not rise into prominence. We do what is in harmony with our habits and convictions; we shun what is in discord with them: but our attention is not specially directed to the agreeableness of the one or the disagreeableness of the other. The one does not thrill us, and the other does not jar upon us or shock us. This is the case so long as we are living steadily within the universe to which we have become habituated. And we are so living throughout the greater part of that conduct which we describe as moral. Even the saint or hero may perform saintly or heroic acts with no consciousness that he is doing anything particular, and consequently with no sense either of harmony disturbed or of harmony restored. The more entirely he is absorbed in his work, the more likely is this to be the case. Still more is it the case that the "good neighbour" and the "honest citizen" go about their avocations, for the most part, with no particular stirrings of the breast. On the other hand, Matthew Arnold was probably so far in the right, that the religious attitude, as distinguished from the simply moral, is at least generally characterized (as is also the artistic) by a more or less distinctly marked emotion. Still, I agree with Mr. Muirhead in thinking that Matthew Arnold's definition is inadequate, and this for more. reasons than one.

In the first place, although it seems an exaggeration to say that all conduct is in any special sense characterized by emotion, yet conduct is frequently emotional without being, in any ordinary sense of the term, religious. Conduct becomes emotional whenever our attention is strongly directed to some end, affected by

our conduct, which we have come to regard as su premely important. Now this end may or may not be of such a kind as we ordinarily designate religious. In a hotly-contested political election, a man may perform his duty as a citizen under a strong emotional influence, which in some cases has been so powerful as to produce death. Yet we should scarcely say that his conduct is more religious than that of the good workman who carefully finishes his job, without feeling that anything particular is at stake. Or again, when one of the parents of a large family suddenly dies, leaving the whole responsibility on the shoulders of the other, the sense of this new responsibility, in a conscientious person, will generally cause the ordinary duties of the family to be, for some time at least, performed with a keener feeling than before of the issues that are at stake. Yet we should scarcely say that it is thereby rendered more religious. The truth is that the emotional quality of our actions depends largely on the question whether they are habitual acts, acts that belong to the ordinary universe within which we live, or whether we are rising into an unfamiliar universe. Now it may be readily granted that religion, in any real sense of the word, can hardly be made so habitual as not to involve some uplifting of the soul, some withdrawal from the point of view of ordinary life to a more comprehensive or more profound apprehension of the world and of our relations to it. Hence it can hardly fail to involve emotion. Even the Amor intellectualis Dei of Spinoza, however purely intellectual it may be, is still amor. But conduct may involve strong and deep emotion and yet not be specially religious:

But, in the second place, Matthew Arnold's definition