in every case as an end withal, and never as a means only.” 1 He argues that to make use of another person as a means whereby to accomplish one's end, degrades him from a person into a mere thing, thus violating his dignity, his worth as a man. Since this is to wrong him grievously, he should be treated only as an end in himself. But The doctrine is striking, and with qualification it is true. We should never use another as a means, unless with his own full knowledge and free consent. If, without this, I myself be used as a mere tool, then, on discovering it, I am indignant, feeling I have been treated unworthily, degraded and wronged, according to the measure of the abuse. with the consensus of all parties, the using each other as means to rightful ends is justifiable. Indeed, the greater part of the amenities of life, the enjoyment and benefit of social intercourse, kindness, politeness, could not otherwise exist. Such reciprocal use does not degrade, it ennobles; and by consenting to become an instrumental means, one becomes a participant in beneficence. This privilege of using others is limited also to rightful ends. One may never seek to use another even with consent in a way or to an end that is wrong; for this would be inducing him to become a partner in wrong doing, which would be doing him a wrong. The point in Kant's doctrine that I should make myself in mine own person an end, we have previously rejected as the essence of egoism. On the contrary, I ought ever and actively to constitute myself an intelligent and willing means to the welfare of others, which is altruism. § 85. A very important corollary from the general doctrine of obligatory service is stewardship. Since unintermitting service is due from each one to others, according to his 1 From Grundlegung zur Metaphysic der Sitten, Auflage der R. and S., Seite 57; Abbott's translation, p. 67. relations, it follows that his time, his energy, his ability, his capital, his estate, whatever he may have in possession or acquire, is in reality not his own, but the property of those others, and he himself is their steward. The transient influence one may have on his surroundings, his daily walk and conversation, his health of mind and body, his life itself as the basis of all, these are held in trust, and are to be devoted to the well being of his fellow men!1 They are the owners; he, their agent. All is due, all is debt, ever paying, never paid. Not less is comprehended in the law of service.2 1 Hence the deep criminality of suicide. Stoicism came short of the doctrine of service, and taught that the sage is lord of his life. From this teaching and the example of Zeno, together with the pessimism of the deathcounseling Hegesias, resulted the horrible prevalence of suicide among the ancient Greeks and Romans. On the battle field of Philippi (B.c. 42), when their cause was lost, Cassius, Titinius, and hundreds of the nobles of Rome, together with Brutus, the noblest Roman of them all, in despair of the Republic, took refuge in self-slaughter. These did not see that suicide is the vile and wicked deed of a coward and thief. "La voix de l'honneur de l'homme lui cria-t-elle que se soustraire par la mort à la responsabilité de ses acts est une insigne lâcheté. Si irréparable que paraisse le mal qu'on a fait, il y a toujours à réparer.' -GABORIAU. "Le suicide est un vol fait au genre humain." ROUSSEAU. It is more, it is the fraud of a trustee, a total violation of a most sacred trust, it is robbery of both man and God; a strange mixture of cowardice and rashness. With open-eyed timidity he flees from the passing ills of life, and with blind temerity rushes unbidden into the eternal presence, hurling himself against the thick bosses of Jehovah's buckler. 2 In Measure for Measure, Act i, sc. 1, 1. 30 sq., the Duke, a personification of watchful and retributive providence, says: "Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, Both thanks and use." We are bound, as trustees, not merely for the keeping, but also for the increase, the accumulation of our holdings. One's talents, whether of gold, silver or iron, of brain, brawn, bone, of intellect, sensibility, will, are all, whether great or small, to be put to usury, and a strict account rendered.1 The servant who kept his Lord's pound laid up in a napkin was condemned as a wicked servant. Possessions are to be used, and used rightly, imbursed and disbursed, as dictated by the law of service, which demands a continuous distribution of our gifts.2 A further corollary is the obligation to guard and to defend possessions. Obviously one is bound to secure what is intrusted to his keeping against all comers, otherwise he cannot fulfill the obligation to use it in alien service. Guardianship is itself a service, since it preserves for others their property, which preservation is, indeed, a very necessary part of the general service due. Hence my rights are to be watchfully and zealously guarded. The property in my hands must be carefully protected, to prevent any trespass. My personal liberty must be maintained free from unwarranted interference. My bodily welfare, and especially my life must be courageously defended against hurtful and deadly violence. The powerful instinct of self-preservation indicates the sacred duty of self-defense, and the original 1 "Talent, a weight or sum of money, natural gift or ability, inclination. Fr. from Lat. from Grk. See Trench, Study of Words. We derive the sense of ability from the parable in Matthew xxv [cf. Luke 19: 11-27], our SKEAT. talents being gifts of God." 2 The pernicious vice of betting or gambling in any of its many forms is sufficiently condemned by the fact that it is a misuse of trust funds. Money is transferred without equivalent, and while the winner takes something for nothing, which is clearly akin to theft, the loser abandons his charge, whereby somebody other than himself, somebody to whom his service is due, suffers a loss, a wrong, a trespass. See supra, § 39. 8 "Le premier des biens est la liberté. Le plus saint des devoirs de l'homme est de la conserver. "-DUMAS. impulse of natural affection shows the no less sacred duty of defending the lives intrusted to our care. Violence must be repelled, if need be, by counter violence. But defense should not be allowed to pass over, as it strongly tends to do, into mere vengeance. The impulse to revenge is a malevolent desire, and hence abnormal, and hence unjustifiable. Yet retaliation is sometimes the best and indeed the only means of effective defense, in which case it is duty.1 § 86. We can imagine a life conducted throughout according to the principles thus far expounded. One might conceivably be governed, in general and in particular, by a sense of duty, duty being here taken in the limited meaning of outward obedience to the law of trespass, justice and service, inspired by respect for the law, recognized as demanding thus much but no more. The whole life being one of innocence and beneficence, duty is said to be perfectly fulfilled by this external conformity to the law simply out of respect for the law, a profound reverence for all pervading moral obligation, and this alone is what should determine all human conduct.2 1 See supra, § 40; and infra, § 136 sq., where an application of this doctrine of defense shows more fully its great importance. But let it be observed here that defense is the sole warrant for interference in another's liberty. In a profound and wide sense I am my brother's keeper, and must defend him from the trespass of others, which is a warrant for my interference in their liberty. Conversely, I am bound to defend them from him in case he attempts doing a wrong, and thus have a warrant for my interference in his liberty. See supra, § 32. 2 Such is the doctrine of Kant. He says: "Duty is the necessity of acting from respect for the law. I may have inclination for an object as the effect of my proposed action, but I cannot have respect for it. Now an action done from duty must wholly exclude the influence of inclination, and with it every object of the will, so that nothing remains which can determine the will except objectively the law, and subjectively pure respect for this practical law, and consequently the maxim to follow this law even to the thwarting of all my inclinations." Grundlegung, u. s. w.; Auflage der R. and S., Seite 20; Abbott's trans., pp. 22, 23. The implication is that The rigorism of this stoical doctrine is impressive and imposing. It is a severe and noble conception of duty, a high ideal. But observe, it does not merely disregard the affections; it requires their suppression. If we judge a man to be governed in all his conduct by a sense of duty, fulfilling carefully, anxiously, assiduously his many obligations, living a life of sacrificial service, purely because of respect for the law of duty, we are filled with admiration for so lofty a character; but if we judge him at the same time destitute of love, we admire him as we admire an iceberg. There is an instinctive repugnance to a person human, yet not humane. And if we find he has laboriously extinguished the yearnings of natural affection in favor of an overruling and exclusive conception of absolute duty, we turn from him as from a monstrous and repulsive prodigy. The sense of duty, rising high but stopping with good works, fails to fulfill the law's demands. In the moral ideal of humanity, there is something higher than this rigid stoicism.1 Were I sick and suffering, and did my friend serve love is not a duty; for this conception of obligation excludes all personal inclination, teaching that an action determined by love alone is not a moral action, and that one wherein love mingles with duty is morally impure, being contaminated by inclination. 1 The poets sometimes rise above the philosophers. Lowell, in The Vision of Sir Launfal, tells of the knight going to search for the Holy Grail, who, as he rode out of his castle's gate, saw a leper awaiting alms. Not moved with compassion (Mark, 1: 41), but with loathing, he tossed him a piece of gold, and without a word, rode on. "The leper raised not the gold from the dust; 'Better to me the poor man's crust, Better the blessing of the poor, Though I turn me empty from his door.' That is no true alms which the hand can hold; He gives nothing but worthless gold Who gives from a sense of duty. The Holy Supper is kept indeed In whatso we share with another's need; For the gift without the giver is bare." |