[38] (p. 26). Cf. my Psych. from the Empirical Standpoint, book ii. chap. iv.
[39] (p. 26). E. Dumont. Traités de législation civile et pénale, extraits des manuscrits de J. Bentham; espec. in the section bearing the title: “Principes des législation,” chap. iii. section 1 towards the end; chap. vi. section 2 towards the end; and chaps. viii. and ix.
[40] (p. 27). S. Rudolph Wagner. Der Kampf um die Seele, vom Standpunkt der Wissenschaft. (Sendschreiben an Herrn Leibarzt Dr. Beneke in Oldenburg.) Göttingen, 1857, p. 94 note. “Gauss said, the author (of a certain psychological work) spoke of a want of exact measurements in the case of psychical phenomena, but it would be good if we only had clumsy ones, one could then make a beginning; but we have none. There is here wanting the conditio sine quâ non of all mathematical treatment, i.e. whether and how far the changing of an intensive into an extensive quantity is possible. Yet this is the first and indispensable condition; then there were also others. On this occasion Gauss spoke also about the usual incorrect definition of quantity as an ‘ens’ which is capable of being increased or diminished; one ought rather to say, an ‘ens’ that admits of being divided into equal parts....”
[41] (p. 27). Fechner’s psycho-physical law, even were it assured, whereas it awakens continually increasing doubt and opposition, could only be used as a means of measuring the intensity of the content of certain concrete perceptions, not, however, for measuring the strength of the emotions like joy and sorrow. Attempts have been made at determining the measure of feelings by means of the involuntary movements and other externally visible changes accompanying them. To me, this seems very much as if one were to seek to reckon the exact date of the day of the month by means of the weather. The direct inner consciousness, however imperfect its testimony may be, nevertheless offers here far more. At least one draws from the spring itself, whereas in the other case one has to do with water rendered impure by a variety of influences.
[42] (p. 27). Sigwart, in his Vorfragen der Ethik (p. 42), emphasizes the fact that no more must be required from the human will than what it is able to perform. This utterance, which coming from the lips of so decided an indeterminist (cf. Logic, ii. p. 592) may especially excite surprise, hangs together with his subjective view of the good, from which view, in my opinion, there is offered no logical, normal path to the peace of all who possess a good will. (Cf. e.g. the way in which Sigwart, p. 15, passes over from egoism to regard for the general good.)
But similar expressions are also heard from others. And it might really appear doubtful whether the sublime command which bids us to subordinate all our actions to the highest practical good is really the right ethical principle. For, putting aside cases of want of reflection, which do not, of course, enter here into consideration, the demand for such complete self-devotion still seems too stringent, since there is no one, however carefully he may conduct himself, who, looking sincerely into his heart, will not frequently be compelled to say with Horace:—
“Nunc in Aristippi furtim praecepta relabor,
Et mihi res, non me rebus subjungere conor.”
And yet the doubt is unfounded, and a comparison may serve to make this clear. It is certain that no one can entirely avoid error; still, avoidable or unavoidable, every error remains a judgment, which is what it should not be, and is opposed to the indispensable demands of logic. What applies to logic in respect of weakness of thought applies to ethics on the ground of weakness of will. Ethics cannot cease to demand from a man that he should love the acknowledged good and prefer that which is recognized to be better, not putting anything else before the highest practical good. Even were it proved (which is not the case), that in a definite class of cases all men without exception in respect of these were never able to remain true to the highest practical good, this would still not afford the slightest justification for setting aside the fundamental ethical demand. Even then it would still remain an evident and unchangeable truth, the sole and only right rule, here as everywhere, to give the preference to the better over what is less good.
J. S. Mill fears that this would lead to endless self-reproaches and that these constant reproaches would embitter the life of each individual. This, however, is so little implied by the rule that it is easily demonstrable that such a result is excluded. Goethe well understood this,—
“Nichts taugt Ungeduld”