As it is a fact that most men guide their lives generally from egoistic motives, any theory of morality which is to be put into practice must reckon seriously with this factor. All other systems have recognised it. In the Sermon on the Mount, which is a summary of Christian morality, each moral act is recognised on the ground that it will bring some reward or obviate some punishment. “Rejoice,” said Jesus, “and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in heaven” (Matt. v., 12). “Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them; otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven” (Matt. vi., 1). “That thine alms may be in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly” (Matt. vi., 4). “Judge not, that ye be not judged” (Matt. vii., 1). “But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses” (Matt. vi., 15). Jesus had no high opinion of the influence of altruism on human conduct.

Herbert Spencer in his treatise on morality (The Data of Ethics) also insists that laws of conduct, to be of general application, must not require men to make too great sacrifices, as otherwise the best teaching would remain a dead letter. He imagines, however, that in the future the human race will be so much improved that moral conduct will become instinctive, needing no compulsion. The English philosopher presents a view of the future of the human race totally at variance with the Kantian conception. Instead of human beings becoming filled with a sense of duty opposed to their natural instincts, the world will be peopled with men acting morally from inclination, so making the world delightful.

The ideal is so far removed from existing conditions that the possibility of its attainment is hardly worth considering. It is probable that a world whose inhabitants had the feeling of sympathy very highly developed would not be so delightful. For sympathy is generally a reaction against evil. When evil disappears, sympathy would be not merely useless, but annoying and harmful.

George Eliot in Middlemarch describes a young woman enthusiastically anxious to do good to her fellows. When she came to live in a village, she made great plans to succour its poor. Her disillusion and annoyance were great when she found that the villagers were quite comfortably off, and had no need of her charity.

John Stuart Mill in his Autobiography relates that when he was young he dreamed of reforming society and making everyone happy. But when he asked himself if the accomplishment of his beautiful ideas would make him happy, he was compelled to answer “No!” and this discovery plunged the young philosopher into a lamentable condition. He described himself as quite overcome, all that supported him in life crumbling away. His happiness could lie only in the constant pursuit of his object, and the charm seemed broken, because if attainment were not to please him, how could the means be of any interest to him? It seemed to him that nothing was left to which he could dedicate his life.

As it is highly probable that with the advance of civilisation the greatest evils of humanity will become lessened, and may even disappear, the sacrifices to be made will also become less. Now that there is a serum which protects against plague, there is no room for the heroism of the doctors who used to incur the greatest danger in fighting epidemics. Until lately doctors used to risk their life in treating the throats of diphtheric patients. A young doctor who was a friend of mine, of high ability and promise, died from diphtheria contracted under these conditions. He met his death, in isolation from his friends in case of infecting them, with the utmost heroism. Now that the anti-diphtheric serum has been discovered, such heroism would be unnecessary. The advance of science has removed the occasion of such sacrifices.

It is now very long since there has been opportunity for the heroism which steeled the hand of Abraham to sacrifice his only son to his religion. Human sacrifice, based on the highest morality, has become more and more rare, and will finally disappear. Rational morality, although it may admire such conduct, has no use for it. So also, it may foresee a time when men will be so highly developed that instead of being delighted to take advantage of the sympathy of their fellows, they will refuse it absolutely. Neither the Kantian idea of virtue, doing good as a pure duty, nor that of Herbert Spencer, according to which men have an instinctive need to help their fellows, will be realised in the future. The ideal will rather be that of men who will be self-sufficient and who will no longer permit others to do them good.