L. Lévy-Brühl formulates Littré's idea more clearly. "We call by the name of Morality the collection of such conceptions, opinions, feelings and customs respecting the mutual rights and duties of men in their life as members of a community, as are recognized and generally observed at a given time in a given civilization."
Thus, according to some, Morality is subjection to an absolute law of divine, or at any rate of unexplained and inexplicable origin, which religion or a mysterious inner voice reveals to man; according to others, it is the recognition that the claims of the community, or at any rate of the majority of one's fellow men, are of binding force upon the actions of the individual. These different answers to an inquiry as to the origin of Morality both contain the tacit admission that it is a law which peremptorily dictates to man what he shall do and what he shall not do. But by means of what psychic mechanism does this law enforce obedience in the consciousness of man? It is remarkable that all moral philosophers, no matter to what age, nation or school they belong, dimly feel or clearly recognize that in civilized man at any rate, natural instincts and judgment are always at war; that the latter opposes the former; that in the victory of judgment over impulse lies the very essence of Morality; that consequently the essence of Morality implies the control and repression of instinct by Reason—in a word, that it is inhibition.
We have seen that Aristotle, in definite though unconscious opposition to the Stoics, who consider Morality synonymous with Nature, defines it as the activity of Reason.
Henry More was the first to express this quite clearly: "Virtue is an intellectual force of the soul which enables it to control ... animal instincts and sensual passions."
And Dr. Jodl sums up the character of Christian morality in the statement: "Moral philosophy under the influence of Christian ideas makes Morality always appear in the guise of a prohibition; at any rate it is apt to conceive Morality as acting in an essentially restrictive and prohibitive manner upon the natural impulses and instincts of man."
This is not quite correct. This Christian code of morals does not always manifest itself as a prohibition. Its main precept is: "Love thy neighbour as thyself." That is not a prohibition but a positive command. Nevertheless, the point of departure of this command is an inhibition. For the first instinctive movement of man is selfishness and, as its consequence, indifference to one's neighbour; the first imperious impulse is to sacrifice the latter's interests to one's own. But if regard for one's neighbour, nay, love for him permeates our feelings, thoughts and actions, that denotes a victory of Christian ideas over the impulse of instinct, a suppression of that impulse—that is, an inhibition which, not content with mere prevention, prolongs its efficacy in the same direction until it changes the impulse of selfishness and inconsiderateness into its very antithesis, that of unselfishness and charity.
It constitutes an important advance in knowledge to recognize that Morality, and not, as Jodl makes out, only Christian Morality, is manifested as an inhibition, as the victory achieved by Reason over Instinct which is contemptuously described as animal, simply because its worth is judged by a standard already supplied by current views on Morals. It is inadmissible to judge by this standard when one attempts an impartial investigation into the ultimate foundations and the essence of Morality. We have no plainly obvious right—no right which does not require a proof—simply to scorn instinct as animal; to run it down from the start and with a respectful bow to give Reason precedence over it; to applaud with satisfaction the suppression of rascally Instinct by highly respectable Reason. Instinct is no more animal than any other manifestation of life in man; and he indulges in pleasant self-deception if he imagines that he is other than an animal, that is, a living organism in which all processes take place according to the same laws as in all other living beings, from the simplest one-celled creature to the most highly developed and complicated.
In itself Instinct has the same claim to dignity as Reason; according to some people an even greater one, because the former is more primitive, unpremeditated, self-assured and firmly established than the latter, and if Reason claims to be the superior, it must substantiate that claim.
As a matter of fact, that claim has never been universally acknowledged.
Periods during which Reason rules at least in name and is treated with the obsequious reverence which the model citizen has, or feigns to have, for his sovereign, are followed by others in which Instinct revolts; rebels dethrone Reason and set up Instinct in its place, or, as they call it, passion and nature. The parties which in turn wield power in these periodic revolutions may be briefly termed classical and romantic. The classicists are the legitimist supporters of Reason; the romanticists are revolutionaries, and their leaders are men like Cleon or Jack Cade, Cromwell, Washington or Robespierre; that is to say, rude demagogues or subtle dialecticians in favour of Instinct. Among the legitimists in Reason as in politics, are to be found those who maintain the divine right, who base the right of Reason to rule over Instinct upon the Will of God, and others again, the constitutionalists, who base their support on the Will of the people, on universal suffrage, who force upon Instinct the law promulgated by society. I need not carry the metaphor to extremes. Every reader can work it out in all its details. I only wanted to show quite clearly that almost all moral philosophers conceived Morality as a struggle between Reason and Instinct, as the defeat of lawlessness by law. But their views diverge widely when they try to explain the source of this law and its claim to obedience.