He who, without reflection, affirms, "this action is right," has framed a moral judgment. He has in a given instance distinguished between right and wrong, although he has not raised the general problem of what constitutes right and wrong. He has exercised the prerogative of a moral being, though not of a very thoughtful one.
We have seen above, that perceptional intuitionism tends to pass over into dogmatic intuitionism of some sort, even in the case of minds little developed. The egoistic rustic may defend his selfishness by citing the proverb, "my shirt is closer to me than my coat." If he does so, it means that a doubt has been suggested, a conflict of some sort called into being. Were such conflicts, causing hesitation and deliberation, of very frequent occurrence, life could scarcely go on at all. Conversation would be impossible were no word placed and no inflection chosen without conscious reference to the rules of grammar. No man could conduct himself properly in a drawing-room or at a table, were his mind harking back at every moment to the instructions contained in some volume on etiquette. He who must justify every act by reflection is condemned to the jerkiest and most hesitant of moral lives. Perceptional moral intuition must stand our friend, if there is to be a flow of conduct worthy of the name.
There are, however, occasions for checking the flow by reflection. Then men are forced to think, and we find them appealing to custom, citing proverbs, quoting maxims, taking their stand upon principles. Recourse may be had to generalizations of a very low or of a very high degree of generality.
But low or high, it is upon intuitions that men actually fall back in justifying their actions. Benevolence, justice, honesty, truthfulness, purity, honor, modesty, courtesy, and what not, are intuitively perceived to be right, and an effort is made to bring the individual act under some one of these headings. The mass of men, even in enlightened communities, do not feel impelled to justify these general moral maxims, to reduce them to a harmonious system, or to reconcile with each other the different lists of them which have been drawn up. They find it possible in practice to resolve most of their doubts by an appeal to this maxim or to that. From such doubts as refuse to be resolved they are apt to turn away their attention. But the moral life goes on, and to intuitions it owes its guidance.
As to the few who reduce the moral intuitions to a minimum, and, like Kant and Sidgwick, end with one or two ultimate intuitional moral principles, we may say that they, like other men, are compelled, in the actual conduct of life, to turn to intuitions of lower orders. All sorts of moral intuitions are actually found helpful by all sorts of men.
(2) To the minds of men differing in their education and traditions, and at different stages of intellectual and moral development, very different moral judgments spontaneously present themselves. It is not a matter of accident that this man may "feel" an action to be right, and that man may "feel" it to be wrong. There is evident adaptation of the judgments to history and environment. They spring into being because the men are what they are and are situated as they are.
It is this adaptation that renders the moral intuitions serviceable in carrying on the actual business of life. It is more complete, the less abstract the moral intuitions which come into play. Plato, who in his "Laws" enters very minutely into the question of the permissible and the forbidden in the life of the citizens of his ideal state, finds it necessary to leave some things to the judgment of the individual. Thus, he finds it impossible to determine exhaustively what things are, and what things are not, worthy of a freeman. He leaves it to the virtuous to give judgments "in accordance with their feelings of right and wrong." [Footnote: Book XI; see the account of the occupations permissible to the landed proprietor.] The intuitions of the mediaeval saint, of the upright modern European, of the virtuous Chinaman, would have impressed him as without rhyme or reason. He appealed to the Greek gentleman, whose sense of propriety was Greek, and might be expected to be adjusted to the situation.
(3) The intuitive judgment of a sensitive moral nature may often be more nearly right than moral judgments based upon the most subtle of reasonings.
It is not hard to find, with a little ingenuity, apparent justification for actions which the consciences of the enlightened condemn at first sight. Scarcely any action may not be brought under some moral rule, if one deliberately sets out to do so. A narrow selfishness is defended as caring for one's own; a refusal of aid to the needy is justified by a reference to the evils of pauperization; patriotism becomes the excuse for hatred, wilful blindness and untruthful vilification. To the sophistries of those who would thus make the worse appear the better, the intuitive judgment of the moral man opposes its unreasoned conviction. That the conviction is not supported by arguments does not prove that it is not a just one.
93. ARGUMENTS AGAINST INTUITIONISM.—What may be urged against Intuitionism?