In the eighteenth century there arose a school, associated with the names of the third Lord Shaftesbury and Francis Hutcheson, the Scotch philosopher, which became known as the "moral sense" school, widely different from the old hedonistic philosophers, since they were the first to assert the existence of a distinctively ethical, as opposed to a merely pleasurable, feeling.
The philosophers of the "moral sense" school attempted to prove that there existed a distinct moral "faculty" which differed from all other perceptions or ideas, in that it was a separate medium by which men could recognize ethical truth, which was rather a matter of the heart than of the head.
As a result of the attacks of the various rationalist schools this idea of a "moral faculty" has been for the most part abandoned by those who approach ethics from the Religious or Theistic standpoint, for they are far more concerned to establish the "Divine authority" and sacrosanct character of conscience than influenced by psychological or metaphysical distinctions. For the most part such writers are content to assume that "conscience" is the knowledge of one's own soul with regard to questions of right and wrong, but insist on that element of Divine Guidance which alone, they think, can give it the necessary authority and sanctity.
The Rev. G. H. Richardson defines conscience as "the whole personality acting ethically; or, more precisely, conscience is the reaction, pleasurable or painful, of the whole personality in response to a human or Divine standard."
It is neither wholly emotional nor wholly rational, but "is sensitive to motives of which the pure reason would take no account; it is more akin to instinct than intelligence." Yet "without reason, conscience would be blind impulse, though it might feel the consciousness of obligation."
Clearly, then, conscience can derive little validity from intelligence; the concession to the Rationalists does not amount to much; it might almost get on without reason altogether. It is the Divine authority of conscience which, for the Theistic writer, is the factor of prime importance.
"As we are bound to trust reason in the intellectual sphere, so we are bound to trust conscience in the moral sphere. To deny the authority of the one or the other is to distrust the Power in whom physical and moral law have their source. The authority of conscience is thus paramount for the individual; it will be better for me to do what is objectively wrong, but what I conscientiously believe to be right, than do what is in fact right, but what my conscience disapproves."
Here the writer appears to abandon his Rationalistic friends altogether; the fanatic is given free rein, his ravings are sacred.
Dr. H. Rashdall, who by many is considered representative of rationalistic ethics, insists on the "objectivity of moral judgment. Feelings or emotions possess no objectivity; and 'without objectivity,' in the words of Eduard von Hartmann, 'ethic has no meaning'."
The all-important task for the Theistic writer is to establish the factor of Divine impulse. "Therefore we say that conscience is a fundamental form of man's personal consciousness of eternity; that ineffaceable certainty that the relation of Duty, with Responsibility and Judgment, is not a relation which stands and falls with our relations to the world and to men, but in its essence is a relation to the holy and Almighty God.... Additional force seems to be given to this way of regarding the Authority of conscience if we consider that its activity is set in motion by an impulse from the Divine Personality."
Bishop Butler refers to conscience as the "voice of God," and as "supreme among human faculties"; and this is endorsed by Richardson, who finds that Theism is essential to any doctrine of conscience, because the alternative is "destructive of its authority."
Let us now summarize the Theistic conscience, variously described in different passages, in the author's own words: "Its activity is set in motion by an impulse from the Divine Personality, and does not originate in the individual nor the world," yet it "reacts to public opinion," is "often unreasonable and inconsistent," is "subject to evolutionary growth" and is "not infallible," is "capable of infinite variety of interpretation" and "reacts to a human standard," which, however, "trails some clouds of glory from its Divine original"; and in conclusion, "If we regard conscience not as a phosphorescent gleam playing upon the surface of consciousness, but as a vital impulse, partly rational, partly instinctive, welling up from the depths of Personality, we shall not run the risk of denying its authority." It would be well, however, not to underestimate the risk, although it undoubtedly caters for a great variety of tastes.
Allied to the Emotional school for the purpose of proving conscience are those Rationalists, of whom we have taken Dr. Rashdall as an example, who have for an object the establishment of the "objective" validity of moral judgment. The real contention becomes clearer; the chief point at issue is the question of authority.
We see, then, that there are two points to be decided: (1) the ultimate validity, with which is connected the question of the Divine Authority, of moral judgments; and (2) the mode of recognition, with which is connected the cause or propellent which induces moral action.
Rashdall summarily dismisses the dual character of the problem in a phrase. "The question at issue between Rationalists and Emotionalists is not what impels me to do a virtuous act, but how I know it to be virtuous." The connexion between motive and judgment is too closely related to be thus calmly ignored. It is agreed that the motive does not affect the intrinsic character or "rightness" of an action, but at the same time it most certainly does affect a man's estimation of his action; and this, in order to arrive at the value of moral judgments, is most obviously relevant.
For Dr. Rashdall the distinction between how I know my action to be right or virtuous, and how it is virtuous, does not exist. Both imply recognition or statement of indisputable fact; for him there can be no ultimate doubt as to the character of moral "good," which can in no way be a matter of opinion, for good is sui generis: it is good and nothing else; happiness may be good, honesty may be good, but good is good for no other reason than because such an abstraction is supposed to exist as a transcendental fact. "Therefore good can be recognized just as any axiomatic truth can be recognized; as, for instance, the fact that 2 + 2 = 4, or two straight lines cannot enclose a space." How is it then that people even of the highest intelligence do not invariably agree about what is good or morally right?
There are no two opinions about whether 2 + 2 does, or does not, equal 4, yet there is no such general agreement about what is right. If asked why a thing is right or good most people would reply either by giving a reason to show that it is desirable or else by quoting the authority of some one else's ipse dixit (in which case it is inferred that the authority quoted had some reason for supposing it desirable). The reason that 2 + 2 = 4 is, on the other hand, that there can be no possible alternative. Yet is it true to say that there can be no possible alternative to what the consensus of opinion in any one country considers morally right? Some things that are considered immoral in England are considered moral in Japan, and vice versa.
Dr. Rashdall, however, conceives of but two alternatives in estimating moral values, the first of which he dismisses, because on this view "our moral judgments could possess no objective validity." He says: "... I examined the question whether our moral judgments are in ultimate analysis merely statements asserting the existence of a particular kind of feeling in particular minds, or whether they are intellectual judgments of universal validity--judgments, of course, of a very peculiar and distinctive kind, but just as much intellectual and universal judgments about the nature of Reality as the judgments 2 + 2 = 4, or 'this is a good inference and that is a bad one'."
It is difficult to know whether this arbitrary elimination of the subjective element from ethical judgments, and the attempt to translate moral values into terms of mathematical formulae, is intended to denote the infusion of a mystic factor into the "exact sciences," or an attempt to reduce metaphysics and morality to rule of thumb! The following thesis, however, which will be elaborated in the course of this discussion, is based on a synchronous realization of rational principles and psychological processes.
Thus, what an individual conceives to be morally right and good, when he is conscious of having acted so according to his own standard, may be either:
(1) Wholly irrational, illogical, anti-social and undesirable (from every point of view except his own), even though arrived at solely by an intellectual and reasoning process; or
(2) An entirely instinctive, blindly impulsive or emotional action, afterwards endorsed by the intellect (i.e. subsequently rationalized); or
(3) The result of thoughtful deliberation, carefully and logically designed to bring about certain preconceived "moral" ends such as social happiness, justice, fulfilment of duty; all of which are artificial and conventional standards, and good only because they are desirable, not because they are universally valid--irrespective of time, locality and circumstances; or
(4) Any combination of these three.
The foregoing applies as much to the aggregate moral consciousness of a community in different stages of civilization, or in varying states of emotional abnormality, as to the individual conscience.
It can also be shown that the "communal conscience" reacts upon the "individual conscience" in inverse ratio to the latter's emotional or intellectual capacity for resistance; and that the "communal conscience" (identified at a later stage of this inquiry with "Cosmic Suggestion") is the integral product of the numerical and dynamic strength of the convictions of the members of the community, and operates upon the "individual conscience," either consciously or subconsciously, in the same way that "Suggestion," according to the law discovered by Liebeault and employed by the Nancy School, operates in hypnotic phenomena.
It will then (if this view can be established) be shown that the factors of conscience are: (1) emotional, (2) intellectual, (3) internal (including hereditary and organic elements), and (4) external (environment--material and psychic); and that its validity, in ultimate analysis, can but rest on codes, which may be not only Conventional and Artificial, but also Rational or Intellectual, Social and Utilitarian; and in any case variable, in the same way that the soundest and most logical policies must, to a certain extent, be variable, or capable of adjustment as circumstances change; the only elements which should be constant and invariable in any policy (which is not a misnomer) being logic and truth. So it is with rules of conduct.
As regards the purely internal sanction of our actions and thoughts, that is to say, our relationship with Ultimate Reality, which is God or the Law of Existence, there is only one conception of the latter which seems to comprehend the infinite with the finite, and that is Force, because it is the continuity of Existence, or after the manner of Leibnitz: "Substance, the ultimate reality, can only be conceived as force." Any moral law which may be said to be fundamental in itself and independent of circumstances will be in relation to force. But such "laws" will also be independent of the moral imperatives and written codes, for they are independent of volition--of the will to obey them. Can a man be possessed of love, greatness, nobility, courage, honour, at a word of command? Therefore if it can be truly said that "love is the greatest thing in the world," it is because it is the most powerful force. Hate is disruptive, disintegrating and annihilating; love is integrating and strengthening.
Conscience & Fanaticism: an Essay on Moral Values · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.