life is a question for each to answer. All that I suggest here is that safety be not confused with morality.

All of these utilitarian considerations resolve themselves, it seems to me, into the simple pragmatic question of what to do. And I would point out that, in spite of the "law's delay", it is the first and most imperative duty of the court, not to dispense justice, but to render decisions-decisions that shall be as just as possible, but in any case decisions. And thus its function is to solve problems if it can but at all events to dispose of them. Decisions and methods of making decisions form again the most conspicuous element in the efficiency of the modern administrator or business man; who faces each day a heavy morning mail, and whose only safe rule is to dispose of it if possible all on the same day, because to-morrow will bring another. These inquiries are disposed of as far as possible in formletters, or standardized replies, the purpose of which is to enlighten the correspondent if possible, but in any case to silence him. The so-called moral standard is expected to perform the same function. When a man says that we must have a moral standard, all that he means is, I take it, that we must have some method of disposing day by day of the necessary business of life.

I will not despise the business side of life. It will be sufficient to point out that the business side stands for necessity rather than choice. It marks the region of activity that we cannot hope to make moral-or living. And therefore if you are looking for the special character of the moral life you must seek it in the contrast to business method. Business method aims at action and results, with the greatest economy of thought. The moral life is not so much action as thoughtful action, and the moral fruit of action is not "results" but experience of life. But the introduction of thought into action changes the whole character of the problem. Moral problems are continuing problems, inviting contemplation. The moral results of action are not so much conclusions as new developments of older questions. The moral problem, in short, is the problem of life.

Problems of business call for definite answers, to be given at once; the problem of life cannot be thus disposed of.

§ 13

The association of morality with authority, and of the moral attitude with the didactic, represents what is called "Positive" morality. "Positive morality" seems to mean that the moral world is a world of definite extent (and not hopelessly big), which is being gradually surveyed by successive generations of moralists, whose results, final as far as they go, are being steadily incorporated into certain ever more established principles. In other words, positive morality presupposes that ethics is a science; that the moral world is a world of fact; and that the moral life, however complex it appear to be, presents a specifically practical problem, capable in the end of a scientific solution. Traditional morality represents, then, the "accumulated experience of mankind", which, as the experience of a world of unchanging law, can be objectively stated and therefore taught with authority to the next generation.

Now things that can be definitely stated can indeed be taught. One may be taught the rules and forms of grammar, elementary geometry, the fundamental principles of physics and chemistry, and how to operate a typewriter, a printing-press or a motor-car. One may even be taught certain broadly recognized rules of literary or musical composition. And if morality could thus be taught, by those who know, we should have no alternative but to recognize their authority. In his "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity", Sir James Fitzjames Stephen (a fine representative of "positive morality") proposes a simple theory of government to the effect that those who know should tell the others what to do and make them do it. Those who know are certainly entitled to do so.

But those who "know" I suspect always of knowing nothing about morality. Upon them the significance of the Socratic "know thyself" is probably wasted. Morality I

have defined as the self-conscious living of life. In this view morality is not positive but problematic. "Positive morality" is valuable mainly for childhood and youth. It would more fitly be presented under the title of "The Rules of Practical Wisdom". These rules-against the commission (e.g.) of lying, theft, adultery, and murder -may easily be taught, but so may the rules of grammar, and they bear the same relation to morality that the rules of grammar bear to the expression of meaning. Namely, the meaning to be expressed (for example, in the use of the subjunctive in Latin or German) emerges only when we contemplate the exceptions; and the more immediately language is alive with meaning, as for example in poetry, the more freely do the exceptions make light of the rules. For those not yet prepared to attack the problem of life on their own responsibility the rules of practical wisdom are safe rules. But the safer they are, the more noncommittal and meaningless. The youth emerging into manhood discovers, perhaps with a shock, that none of these rules is intended, even by the orthodox, to be taken quite literally and absolutely. The rule against lying, if this be taken to stand for absolute openness and sincerity, is violated by good men every hour of the day; for no man, however honourable, fails to make some distinction between those who, by virtue of their relation to him, are entitled to have the truth from him and those who are not. And the attempt to systematize the rules leads only to endless casuistry.1 Casuistry is only the legitimate refinement of orthodox ethics.

1 Some persons find comfort in the distinction between concealing the truth and telling a falsehood—as if there were any object in concealing the truth except to mislead! Others find a curious satisfaction in preserving the form of honesty while parting with the substance. They think that somehow, while sinning in fact, they have preserved respect for the ideal. I wonder if they have done so. At any rate, I may recommend to them a study of the delightful Samuel Pepys, who somewhere in his "Diary' records that, having received a bribe from a captain in the navy in the form of a packet of sovereigns, he was careful, in emptying the packet into the drawer of his desk, to close his eyes, so that he could afterwards say, "I did not see any sovereigns in the packet."

"

When, now, the young man, come to himself, so to speak, questions the meaning of these rules, he discovers that the meaning of the same rules is different for different men, and also that different men prefer different rules. One man prefers honesty at the cost of brutality, another carries considerateness to the point of deceit. For each the significance of the rules, like that of the rules of grammar or of the words in the dictionary, lies in their use in expressing the meaning of life for himself. And for each the meaning of life is a problem, a personal problem, calling for an original solution.

This means that the moral life is an art rather than an applied science. It is a creation. And morality can then be "taught", or not, in just the sense in which art can be taught. One cannot be taught to create. One may, as I have pointed out, be taught certain rules of literary or musical composition, or certain laws of physics; but no one can be taught to be a new Shakespeare or Beethoven, to write novels equal to Thackeray's, or even to devise a really new machine. On the other hand no artist creates in vacuo. Beethoven's creations were based upon a study of the forms of composition used by those before him. The artist learns to create by studying the great masters : he becomes an artist when he ceases to imitate them. The great masters in morality-it would be difficult indeed to name them. They are not specifically the moralists. They are often for each of us those whom we have known most intimately. They include, in the end, all who, in history, art, literature, or philosophy, have had any important experience to reveal regarding the significance of human life and human nature.

But the masters of life are never "authorities". Their conceptions of life are not "standards". As a mode of expressing the attitude towards them of a morally responsible agent I find the sentence curiously fitting which Aristippus, not perhaps the most moral of the moralists, applied to the pleasures of life (having applied it in the first instance to his mistress, Lais): "Exw, oυk exoμai.

"I possess, I am not possessed." I will enjoy the pleasures of life, I will not be dominated by them. And thus I may in the true and proper sense enjoy the moralities presented by the various experiences of mankind. I will understand them all, I will make them all my own: I will be in bondage to none.