Chapter 2.
Ultimate Goods

579. Yet the logician will never be scientifically or safely equipped for his explorations until he knows precisely what it is that he is seeking. The whole doctrine of logic depends upon that to a degree one could hardly foresee. The best way will be to go back to the beginning and inquire what it is that we can be content to wish for independently of any ulterior result. For the discussions of the moralists, who have not had logic in view, are not altogether adequate for our needs. In this inquiry we are not to look for any [discussion] leading to psychology; for the anatomy and physiology of the mind, or of the brain, though they may furnish a hint now and then, can after all not tell us that anything is desirable, except for some reason; while what we wish to know is what is desirable without any reason. Psychology might, it is true, discover that there is no way whatever in [which] certain things could become objects of desire; but it can only make such a discovery by relying upon direct self-questioning, as [to] what we do or do not desire, and such premisses of psychology are here precisely the conclusions of which we are in quest. So we must make up our minds to rely entirely upon self-questioning, with here and there perhaps some secondary aid from psychology.

580. Such self-questioning produces no infallible response. On the contrary, consciousness may be set down as one of the most mendacious witnesses that ever was questioned. But it is the only witness there is; and all we can do is to put it in the sweat-box and torture the truth out of it, with such judgment as we can command.

581. What I propose now to do is to pass in review every one of the general classes of objects which anybody could suppose to be an ultimate good, and to question consciousness, first, as to whether or not each of these in turn could content us as the sole ultimate good independently of any ulterior result, and if not, whether it can be considered to be in itself a good at all, irrespective of its effects. I shall arrange my list so as to commence with the most particular satisfactions and proceed step by step to the most general. But since there are in each grade several kinds of satisfactions, I shall begin in each grade of generality with the most immediate and selfish and go on by steps to the most subservient.

582. I begin, then, with simple satisfactions of the moment. The most immediate of these is the simple satisfaction of a direct instinct. I am thirsty and I want a drink. Now our shifty witness, consciousness, is very ready with her answer that a drink is good but that momentary satisfactions are not the only good. Let us not be in haste to accept either answer. Men might easily argue — indeed, do argue — that there can be no other good than the satisfaction of the moment's desire. But the moment I hear that word can used, where nothing in the world is pertinent but observations of what is, I cast the judgment aside as worthless. For »cannot be« means "not in accordance with a hypothetical construction« intended, this time, to represent human nature. But I do not care about hypothetical constructions. I just want to know whether a man does ever find any other satisfaction than the simple satisfaction of the moment. If there is nothing good but the simple satisfaction of this moment, and all other moments are nothing, I must be in a state of perfect satisfaction or perfect dissatisfaction. Is that so? Obviously not: I may wish for something in spite of accompanying disadvantages. Therefore, the simple satisfaction of the moment is not all. There is at least complexity. Now can the simple satisfaction of the moment be, in itself, any good at all? Here consciousness is emphatic in her reply that the drink is good, however small a good. But there can be no harm in a little cross-examination of the witness. An absolutely simple satisfaction will involve no comparison, no measure, no degree. It will be perfect, if it exists at all. Now let be supposed that it could be proved to you that, I will not say for a moment only, but for the entire duration of a millionth of a second, you were to enjoy a simple satisfaction, say that of an agreeable color sensation, with no effects whatever of any kind, and of course no memory of it. Then, since this satisfaction would be perfect and immeasurable, and would be, O Consciousness, you say, a good, at how much would you value it? How many years of purgatory would you be willing to endure for the sake of it? Come, speak up. Would you endure five minutes of toothache? For the knowledge that you had, or were about to have, the strange experience, perhaps. But this would be an effect. You must suppose that you were to be utterly ignorant of whether you had, or were about to have, any such feeling. Would it not be precisely the same thing as if this had happened to some other being, say to a mosquito, with this difference, that the mosquito is your neighbor, with whom you have some grain of sympathy while this isolated instant would really have no existence at all? I think I hear you murmur that an absolutely simple satisfaction would be an absurdity. Then such satisfaction is no part of the good. Still, it might be said that this result is owing to the absurd hypothesis of simplicity.

583. Let us, then, next consider whether the perfect and prompt satisfaction of every instinct is the only ultimate good. Though I cannot recall it at all, I think it very likely that in my childhood I read of a malevolent fairy who pronounced this curse upon an infant that during his entire life whatever wish he should conceive should be instantly gratified. If he wished for a drink, a drink should be instantly before him. If he wished it to taste differently, it should taste differently. If he was tired of sloth and wished he were working, he should be putting forth his strength. Only two things would be debarred. The first restriction should be that vague dissatisfaction, mere ennui at having his own way, should not be enough. He must form a definite wish. And secondly, wishing that his wishes should not be gratified should only be gratified until he made a positive wish. The instant he did that the satisfaction should come. I do not think that consciousness herself could have the face to pronounce this state of things good. The only alleviation of it would be the state of imbecility in which the person would be engulfed. Now I ask whether, in view of this, the mere satisfaction of an impulse can be said to be per se a good, at all. Under certain circumstances, the satisfaction may be good, no doubt; but is it so per se and simpliciter? Here again, we find ourselves contemplating an absurdity. A satisfaction cannot be divorced from its circumstances. It results then that the gratification of an instinct is not per se any part of the good. Still, it might be said that this is only because we have supposed an impossible situation in which there was no providing for future desires.

584. We will, therefore, next consider whether provision for satisfying future instinctive desires is the only ultimate good, and if not, whether it is, in itself, a good at all. It will here be pertinent to remark that although the state of things last imagined would not be good for a man, yet it does not seem to differ much from the conditions under which my dog, and mare, and poultry seem to be enviably happy. Still, perhaps there may be a delusion here. The dog, I can perceive, considers that there is a heavy weight of responsibility upon him, and so do the mature poultry. Even the mare is not without this feeling; and perhaps she is not so entirely happy as the others. If there were an idiot about the place, could we regard it as an ultimate good that he should thus have all his instincts gratified? I think not. If it would produce a state of content in the poor fellow's mind, and if for any reason that were a good, then, for the sake of that effect, it is undeniable that the state of things supposed would be good: but that would not make it an ultimate good; on the contrary, it would furnish a reason for the sake of which it would be good. These considerations are extremely pertinent to the case we are now to consider, which is that of a person engaged busily in providing for his next day's wants, with just enough uncertainty as to his probable success to keep industrious. If, for any reason, or without an ulterior reason, it is desirable that he should be happy, and if his mental development is so low that those conditions would make him happy, as possibly they might make some creatures zoölogically human, then of course that would furnish an end as a means to which the state supposed would be good. But how is it with you, my Consciousness? Would you think it was reason enough for the creation of heaven and earth that it put you, or any other individual, into this condition of working for your living?¹⁾