It would thus be purposeless and altogether futile for us to attempt to modify the activity of individuals, except with regard to the benefit of others. If, then, the sole limitation upon the volition and action of one is the happiness of others, the Chief Good as determining the moral law of the community is the highest happiness of each, taking in view the happiness of others—or, as I have already stated it, the maximum happiness of the greatest number. This is the ultimate end to be gained in the government of conduct. Whatever tends toward securing this result is good, of good character, of a goodly nature, of good report. On the contrary, whatever tends to prevent or oppose is evil, of evil nature, report, or character. Conduct, therefore, of the first description is Right; that of the latter description is Wrong.

Let us now once more direct our attention to the fact already noted that, in order to obtain this social desideratum of happiness, individuals must be so moulded as to develop the altruistic character. They must be inspired by the social ideal-not, of course, unqualified altruism, but altruism as a means to the social end. They must be so educated as to have a preference for the right and a disposition to do right. But it is impossible for any human being to come into existence, under present conditions at any rate, without self-regarding tendencies. Consequently, under the stimulus of these impulses which have self for their end and the pressure of the social environing influences, assisted by natural sympathetic inclinations, are born two sets of tendencies, creating two sets of volitional motives, which, though sometimes coalescent, are generally conflicting. On the one hand, are the motives to self-preservation and self-conservation, with self as the end of volition and activity; on the other, are the motives to selfabnegation or self-forgetfulness, with the good of others as that end. As the one are indulged, so far forth as the influence is unmodified, it tends toward an egoistic character; so far forth as the latter are followed, the effect is favourable to the development of the altruistic. To the degree that the motives of the former class are uncounteracted they will create volitions and lead to actions which, in their reactions upon the character, will develop egoistic sentiments with egoistic ends; and as these last are made more general and controlling, the person's ideals of life will be pervaded by egoism and will become prevailingly egoistic. To such a person self will be the end of all his activity, in whatever direction he may choose to exert it, and everything will be good

which favours self, while everything will be indifferent or bad which does not conduce to the benefit of self, or which positively detracts from selfish satisfaction. In such a case the moral imperatives are of no force or weight, save as by heeding the requirements of the social order selfish interests are promoted. In the extreme exemplification of this character there is no voluntary submission to the moral law, much less any active disposition to conform to it.

But where the altruistic motives are continually strengthened, in similar manner but with contrary effect, altruistic sentiments and altruistic ends are developed, and with these altruistic ideals of life, whose distinguishing feature is self-forgetfulness, with the pursuit of subordinate ends of altruistic nature—the advantage, good, or happiness of others, one, a few or many, as the range of regard is narrower or wider. Then when egoistic impulses come into conflict with these altruistic motives, if the former are yielded to, a sense of wrong-doing, of unworthiness, of sorrow or remorse is generated, while if they are conquered, a feeling of right-doing, elation and self-approval ensues.

An individual in the formation of personal ends constructs in imagination a fiction of himself in a certain state or condition of experience with relation to things and other persons. Intellectually considered, this picture may be one of himself with his attention directed outward, or with his attention directed inward. (1) He may represent himself as witnessing his family, his companions, his neighbours, his country, in a state of prosperity, happiness, general weal, with pain at a minimum ; and, secondarily, may represent himself as having contributed to this result and done nothing to hinder it. Further than this he may form no picture of his own condition. This is the purely Altruistic ideal end. It will be greatly varied according to the range of objects embraced, and its value correspondingly affected. A person will not satisfy the moral law by proposing as an end the happiness of his family irrespective of the happiness of the community, however devoted and self-forgetful he may be. But we will look just now only at the quality of the proposed end taken alone. (2) He may represent himself as witnessing this state of happiness as contributed to by him negatively and positively, and himself as included in it as wealthy, famous, beloved. This is a mixed end, partly altruistic and partly egoistic, and might be styled Ego-altruistic. In attempting to realise it doubtless a conflict would sooner or

later occur, in which either altruism or egoism would have to be chosen to the detriment of the other. Perhaps a compromise would be effected by which the altruism and egoism would modify each other, giving a lower degree of both. This sort of compromise is very common, and this kind of ideal end is perhaps that cherished by the majority of civilised and enlightened human beings, the egoism and altruism varying with respect to each other according to character and circumstances. (3) He may turn his attention inward and represent himself as in the possession of wealth, power, or fame-a Crœsus, a Napoleon, a Washington, a Shakspeare; but with his contemporaries or posterity benefited and made happier by his efforts; the first, however, being primary, the last secondary. Such an ideal end-to continue our use of Spencerian terms is characteristically Altru-egoistic. (4) The individual may represent himself not as doing, but as being something, kaλokȧyalòs, as having developed to the highest degree of symmetry his whole nature, as having realised the highest conception of excellence and virtue, as being worthy, or, in other words, as having attained perfection of character. This amiable sort of selfishness may be styled Estho-egoistic. (5) Finally, a person may imagine himself as attaining wealth, power, glory, or as enjoying any one of these, but utterly without regard to the condition of others whether they be neglected, or whether the end be achieved at their expense, or through their grief. This is the purely Egoistic ideal.

Of these ideal ends, one is altruistic, two are mixed, and two are egoistic. The astho-egoistic exhibits a very subtle form of egoism, to which we shall need to give our attention far theron. It is not dangerous to the social order (except indirectly), because it adopts the fulfilment of the moral law as the means for attaining the perfection to which it aims. It does not, however, and cannot produce either the most useful or the highest type of character socially considered, since it is after all essentially egoistic. The moral law, based upon the needs of the social organism, demands altruism, not blind, but intelligent, governed by the social idea of the chief good, and will accept nothing else as a substitute, because in no other way can loyalty and obedience to its behests be secured.

In proposing to himself these ideal ends to be practically realised, if possible, and as furnishing the rules of conduct, the individual contemplates them with pleasurable emotion. They are

pleasures, groups of pleasures, or series of pleasures. In the construction and maintenance of these fictions (intellectually speaking) he feels pleasure, and in the absence of the imagined condition he feels pain. Thus he has a volitional stimulus to realise a desire for what he has pictured to himself as enjoyable. This latter, however, may be restrained by the thought of the impossibility of attainment, its great difficulty, or the pains which may ensue from attempting it. Whether then he will persist, or will replace his selected end by another, depends altogether upon his mental constitution and his circumstances. The result will be governed wholly by the strength of the motives which arise in his mind, whether they be suggested from within, or impressed from without. Whatever end he finally chooses will in any event be an imagined pleasure, not in possession, but the attainment of which will relieve or offset present uneasiness and discontent-that is, present pain of one sort or another, presentative or more or less representative.

It is very generally admitted that the ends of the highest happiness of the greatest number, and of the individual are not at all coincident. He who aims at a social and altruistic end may secure it only with a detriment to his own happiness. This is undoubtedly true to the observation of other parties who are lookers on. How far it is true subjectively to the individual primarily concerned is not so easily decided. When contemplating an end of attainment, he may recognise it as an altruistic end, and at the same time be perfectly well aware that if he aims to secure it or promote it by his action, much suffering will result to him, more than if he adopted and followed some egoistic end. But mere cognitions do not determine volition or action; the latter are governed by the quantity of feeling accompanying the cognition and by organised habits, these habits often adding to, or subtracting from, the quantity of feeling. If it were not for the capacity to form dispositions by habitual action, it would be impossible to follow representative ends at all remote, or to establish any fixed character. And it is in consequence of this ability to form and maintain dispositions, and of their actual formation, that men, on the one hand, see the right and approve it, and yet the wrong pursue; and also, on the other hand, behold the wrong, and are drawn toward it by egoistic considerations, but yet the right pursue. A person may be so educated that habitually he derives more pleasure from promoting the happiness of other people than from acting directly with self-regard. His forecasts

and anticipations of future pleasure are all in connection with selfabnegation of some sort. This may be the case with respect to all his enjoyments, or it may be generally true with the reservation of a pet vice or two. Then, if something presents itself as within his reach and of egoistic advantage, but, if pursued, likely to bring unhappiness to someone else, the force of habitual desires to please others is aroused in opposition. Yielding in thought to the egoism produces present pain, while suppressing the egoism and yielding to the altruistic pressure of motive brings a feeling of pleasurable relief. If, then, the pain aroused by thought of following the egoistic course, and the pleasure experienced in contemplation of the altruistic outweigh in quantity the pain and the pleasure of the contrary choice, the egoistic volitions will be checked and the altruistic prevail, and vice versa. This altruistic choice may consist perfectly with the intellectual conviction that more pleasure, as other people view pleasure, would result from the egoistic choice; and for the moment the man's attention is given to the pleasures abandoned, and he feels the pain of regret for having given them up; but this very transition of thought produces the representative pain of the presence of these egoistic advantages and the absence of the feelings which accompany the knowledge of altruistic acts performed and of their performance; the lack is felt, the mind reverts to the altruistic alternative with a rush of pleasurable feeling moving volition. Then comes the intellectual conviction that after all the acquisition and possession of those things which do give pleasure ordinarily under the circumstances would not give pleasure to him; he would not enjoy them, and so he rests upon his choice, more or less content according to the strength of feeling aroused on one side or the other. Moreover, the inability of the mind to dwell upon pain in thought, and to represent it with great vividness, or perhaps, in better phrase, the natural tendency to put pain out of mind, prevents ordinarily as much attention being given to the ills ensuing from a course of action leading to a particular end, if the ultimate result is represented as agreeable. In view of all these facts it certainly cannot be said that the individual in making his choice is moved by anything else but pleasure and pain. Nor is it easy to see how his preference is otherwise to be accounted for. He is seeking his happiness as it appears to him, though knowing that on ordinary reckonings of pleasure and pain he is wrong. Still, the fact remains that for him happiness lies in the path selected.