3); this stupid moral pedantry has been ridiculed by Schiller in two apposite epigrams, entitled Gewissensskrupel (Scruples of Conscience) and Entscheidung (Decision).[1]
It appears that some passages in the Kritik der Praktischen Vernunft, which exactly suit this connection, were the immediate occasion of the verses. Thus, for instance, on p. 150 (R., p. 211) we find: "Obedience to the moral law, which a man feels incumbent on him, is based not on voluntary inclination, nor on endeavour willingly put forth, without any authoritative command, but on a sense of duty." Yes, it must be commanded! What slavish morality! And again on p. 213 (R., p. 257): "Feelings of compassion, and of tender-hearted sympathy would be actually troublesome to persons who think aright, because through such emotions their well weighed maxims would become confused, and so the desire would grow up to be rid of them, and to be subject solely to the lawgiver—Reason." Now I maintain without hesitation that what opens the hand of the above-described (p. 11; R., p. 18) loveless doer of good, who is indifferent to the sufferings of other people, cannot (provided he have no secondary motives) be anything else than a slavish δεισιδαιμονία (fear of the gods), equally whether he calls his fetich "Categorical Imperative" or Fitzlipuzli.[2] For what but fear can move a hard heart?
Furthermore, on p. 13 (R., p. 19), in accordance with the above view, we find that the moral worth of an action is supposed to lie, by no means in the intention which led to it, but in the maxim which was followed. Whereas I, on the contrary, ask the reader to reflect that it is the intention alone which decides as to the moral worth, or worthlessness, off an action, so that the same act may deserve condemnation or praise according to the intention which determined it. Hence it is that, whenever men discuss a proceeding to which some moral importance is attached, the intention is always investigated, and by this standard alone the matter is judged; as, likewise, it is in the intention alone that every one seeks justification, if he see his conduct misinterpreted or excuse, if its consequence be mischievous.
On p. 14 (R., p. 20) we at last reach the definition of Duty, which is the fundamental conception of Kant's entire ethical system. It is: "The necessity of an action out of respect for the law." But what is necessary takes place with absolute certainty while conduct based on pure duty generally does not come off at all. And not only this; Kant himself admits (p. 25; R., p. 28) that there are no certain instances on record of conduct determined solely by pure duty; and on p. 26 (R., p. 29) he says: "It is utterly impossible to know with certainty from experience whether there has ever really been one single case in which an action, however true to duty, has rested simply on its idea."—And similarly on p. 28 (R., p. 30) and p. 49 (R., p. 50). In what sense then can necessity be attributed to such an action? As it is only fair always to put the most favourable interpretation on an author's words, we will suppose him to mean that an act true to duty is objectively necessary, but subjectively accidental. Only it is precisely this that is more easily said than thought for where is the Object of this objective necessity, the consequence of which for the most part, perhaps indeed always, fails to be realised in objective reality! With every wish to be unbiassed, I cannot but think that the expression—necessity of an action—is nothing but an artificially concealed, very forced paraphrase of the word "ought."[3] This will become clearer if we notice that in the same definition the word Achtung (respect) is employed, where Gehorsam (obedience) is meant. Similarly in the note on p. 16 (R., p. 20) we read: "Achtung signifies simply the subordination of my will to a law. The direct determination of the will by a law, and the consciousness that it is so determined—this is what is denoted by Achtung" In what language? In German the proper term is Gehorsam. But the word Achtung, so unsuitable as it is, cannot without a reason have been put in place of the word Gehorsam. It must serve some purpose; and this is obviously none other than to veil the derivation of the imperative form, and of the conception of duty, from theological Morals; just as we saw above that the expression "necessity of an action," which is such a forced and awkward substitute for the word "shall," was only chosen because "shall" is the exact language of the Decalogue. The above definition: "Duty is the necessity of an action out of respect for the law," would therefore read in natural, undisguised, plain language: "Duty signifies an action which ought to be done out of obedience to a law." This is "the real form of the poodle."[4]
But now as to the Law, which is the real foundation stone of the Kantian Ethics. What does it contain? And where is it inscribed? This is the chief point of inquiry. In the first place, be it observed that we have two questions to deal with: the one has to do with the Principle, the other with the Basis of Ethics—two entirely different things, although they are frequently, and sometimes indeed intentionally, confused.
The principle or main proposition of an ethical system is the shortest and most concise definition of the line of conduct which it prescribes, or, if it have no imperative form, of the line of conduct to which it attaches real moral worth. It thus contains, in the general terms of a single enunciation, the direction for following the path of virtue, which is derived from that system: in other words, it is the ὅ,τι[5] of virtue. Whereas the Basis of any theory of Ethics is the διότι[6] of virtue, the reason of the obligation enjoined, of the exhortation or praise given, whether it be sought in human nature, or in the external conditions of the world, or in anything else. As in all sciences, so also in Ethics the ὅ,τι must be clearly distinguished from the διότι. But most teachers of Morals wilfully confound this difference: probably because the ὅ,τι is so easy, the διότι so exceedingly difficult, to give. They are therefore glad to try to make up for the poverty on the one hand, by the riches on the other, and to bring about a happy marriage between Πενία (poverty) and Πόρος (plenty), by putting them together in one proposition.[7] This is generally done by taking the familiar ὅ,τι out of the simple form in which it can be expressed, and forcing it into an artificial formula, from which it is only to be deduced as the conclusion of given premises; and the reader is led by this performance to feel as if he had grasped not only the thing, but its cause as well. We may easily convince ourselves of this by recalling all the most familiar principles of Morals. As, however, in what follows I have no intention of imitating acrobatic tricks of this sort, but purpose proceeding with all honesty and straightforwardness, I cannot make the principle of Ethics equivalent to its basis, but must keep the two quite separate. Accordingly, this ὅ,τι—i.e., the principle, the fundamental proposition—as to which in its essence all teachers of Morals are really at one, however much they may clothe it in different costumes, I shall at once express in the form which I take to be the simplest and purest possible, viz.: Neminem laede, immo omnes, quantum potes, juva. (Do harm to no one; but rather help all people, as far as lies in your power.) This is in truth the proposition which all ethical writers expend their energies in endeavouring to account for. It is the common result of their manifold and widely differing deductions; it is the ὅ,τι for which the διότι is still sought after; the consequence, the cause of which is wanting. Hence it is itself nothing but the Datum (the thing given), in relation to which the Quaesitum (the thing required) is the problem of every ethical system, as also of the present prize essay. The solution of this riddle will disclose the real foundation of Ethics, which, like the philosopher's stone, has been searched for from time immemorial. That the Datum, the ὅ,τι, the principle is most purely expressed by the enunciation I have given, can be seen from the fact that it stands to every other precept of Morals as a conclusion to given premises, and therefore constitutes the real goal it is desired to attain; so that all other ethical commandments can only be regarded as paraphrases, as indirect or disguised statements, of the above simple proposition. This is true, for instance, even of that trite and apparently elementary maxim: Quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri ne feceris[8] (Do not to another what you are unwilling should be done to yourself.) The defect here is that the wording only touches the duties imposed by law, not those required by virtue;—a thing which can be easily remedied by the omission of non and ne. Thus changed,
