eating or drinking on some certain occasion from being indifferent. Mr. Bradley again observes:-"It is right and a duty that the sphere of indifferent detail should exist. It is a duty that I should develop my nature by private choice therein. Therefore, because that is a duty, it is a duty not to make a duty of every detail; and thus in every detail I have done my duty." This statement also shows a curious confusion of entirely different facts. may be very true that it is a duty to recognise certain actions as indifferent. This is one thing by itself. But it is quite another thing to perform those actions. And if it is a duty to recognise certain actions as indifferent, how could it possibly at the same time be held a duty to perform them?

It

It has been maintained that the sphere of the indifferent forms the totality of "ought"; that when the same end may be reached by a variety of means, an action may be indifferent merely in relation to the choice of means, but not so far as regards the attainment of the end, and hence is only apparently indifferent." "If it is my moral duty to go from one town to another," says Mr. Bradley, "and there are two roads which are equally good, it is indifferent to the proposed moral duty which road I take; it is not indifferent that I do take one or the other; and whichever road I do take, I am doing my duty on it, and hence it is far from indifferent: my walking on road A is a matter of duty in reference to the end, though not a matter of duty if you consider it against walking on road B; and so with B-but I can escape the sphere of duty neither on A nor on B." All this is true, but forms no argument against the "indifferent." The statement, "You ought to go to the town and to take either road A or B," refers to two volitions which are regarded as wrong, namely, the volition not to go to the town at all, and the volition to take any road not A or B ; and it

refers also to two pairs of volitions in reference to which it indicates that the choice between the volitions constituting each pair is indifferent. You may choose to take road A or not to take it; you may choose to take road B or not to take it. The "indifferent" is always an alternative between contradictories. It can therefore never form part of an "ought"-totality, being itself a totality as complete as possible. This is somewhat disguised by a judgment which makes an obligation of a choice between A and B, but becomes conspicuous if we consider a simple case of indifference. Suppose that it is considered indifferent whether you speak or do not speak on a certain occasion. What is here the "ought" that forms the totality of the indifferent? Would there be any sense in saying that you ought either to speak or not to speak? Or is the alternative, speaking-not speaking, only a link in an indefinite chain of alternatives, each of which is by itself indifferent, in a relative sense, but the sum of which forms the "ought"? You may be permitted-it will perhaps be argued-in a given moment to speak or to abstain from speaking, to write or to abstain from writing, to read or to abstain from reading, and so on; but however wide the province of the permissible may be, there must always be a limit inside which you ought to remain. That you do this or that may be a matter of indifference, but only of relative indifference, for it is not indifferent what you do on the whole; hence there is nothing absolutely indifferent. Such an argument, however, involves a misapprehension of the true meaning of the "indifferent." The predicate expressing indifference refers to certain definite volitions and their contradictories, not to the whole of a man's conduct in a certain moment. The whole of a man's conduct is never indifferent. But neither is the whole of a man's conduct ever wrong. In the moment when a murderer kills his victim. he is fulfilling an endless number of duties: he abstains from stealing, lying, committing adultery, suicide, and so on. The predicate "wrong only marks the moral

character of a special mode of conduct. Why should not the indifferent be allowed to do the same?

It has, finally, been observed that the so-called "indifferent" is something "the morality of which can only be individually determined."1 This remark calls attention to the fact that no mode of conduct can be regarded as indifferent without a careful consideration of individual circumstances, and that much which is apparently indifferent is not really so. This, however, does not involve an abolition of the indifferent. Such an abolition would be the extreme of moral intolerance. He who tried to put it into practice would be the most insupportable of beings, and to himself life would be unbearable. Fortunately, such a man has never existed. The attempts to make every action, even the most trivial, of responsible beings a matter of moral concern, are only theoretical fancies without practical bearing, a hollow and flattering tribute to the idol of Duty.

1 Martensen, Christian Ethics, p. 415.

CHAPTER VII

CUSTOMS AND LAWS AS EXPRESSIONS OF MORAL IDEAS

MORAL ideas are expressed in moral judgments. We have hitherto examined the predicates of such judgments, the import and origin of the moral concepts. Now a much wider field of research remains for us to traverse. We shall direct our attention to the subjects of moral judgments, to the mass of phenomena which, among different peoples and in different ages, have had a tendency to call forth moral blame and moral praise. We shall discuss the general characteristics which all these phenomena have in common. We shall classify the most important of them, and study the moral ideas held with reference to the phenomena of each class separately. And in both cases we shall not only analyse, but try to find an answer to the question, Why?-the ultimate aim of all scientific research. But before entering upon this vast undertaking, we must define the lines on which it is to be conducted. How can we get an insight into the moral ideas of mankind at large?

In answering this question I need not dwell upon such obvious means of information as direct experience, or records of moral maxims and sentiments found in proverbs, literary and philosophical works, and religious codes. The sources which, from an evolutionary point of view, are of the most comprehensive importance for our study, are tribal and national customs and laws. It is to these sources that the present chapter will be devoted.

We have seen that a custom, in the strict sense of the word, is not merely the habit of a certain circle of men, but at the same time involves a moral rule. There is a close connection between these two characteristics of custom its habitualness and its obligatoriness. Whatever be the foundation for a certain practice, and however trivial it may be, the unreflecting mind has a tendency to disapprove of any deviation from it for the simple reason that such a deviation is unusual. As Abraham Tucker observes, "it is a constant argument among the common people, that a thing must be done, and ought to be done, because it always has been done."1 Children show respect for the customary, and so do savages. "If you ask a Kaffir why he does so and so, he will answerHow can I tell? It has always been done by our forefathers.' 3 The only reason which the Eskimo can give for some of their present customs, to which they adhere from fear of ill report among their people, is that "the old Innuits did so, and therefore they must. In the behaviour of the Aleut, who "is bashful if caught doing anything unusual among his people," and in the average European's dread of appearing singular, we recognise the influence of the same force of habit.

" 4

On the other hand, it should be remembered that not every public habit is a custom, involving an obligation; certain practices, though very general in a society, may be even reprobated by almost every one of its members. The habits of a people must therefore be handled with discretion by the student of moral ideas. Yet when he has no reason to conclude as to some special habit that it is held obligatory, he may, probably always, be sure that it is either allowed, or, in spite of all assurances of its wickedness, that the disapproval of it is not generally very deep or genuine. In a community where lying is a