Is measured by the idea of perfect Reality. The lower is

that which, to be made complete, would have to undergo a

more total transformation of its nature. And viewed from

the ground of what is higher--of what they fail to reach

or even oppose--the lower truth and lower goodness

become sheer error and evil. The Absolute is perfect in

all its detail, it is equally true and good throughout.

But, upon the other side, each distinction of better and

more true, every degree and each comparative stage of

reality is essential. They are made and justified by the

all-pervasive action of one immanent perfection.

And guided by this two-fold principle we might

approach without misgiving the diverse worlds of

appearance. But in this work I am endeavouring

merely to defend a general view. And so, both on the

whole and here in particular with regard to goodness, I

cannot attempt to deal fully with any aspect of the

Absolute. It is mainly the common prejudice in favour of

the ultimate truth of morality or religion, that has led

me to give to them here a space which perhaps is undue.

But, even with this, I can but touch on certain features

of the subject; and I must deal chiefly with those which

are likely to be urged as objections to our

doctrine.

We may speak of the good, generally, as that which

satisfies desire. It is that which we approve of, and in

which we can rest with a feeling of contentment. Or we

may describe it again, if we please, as being the same

as worth. It contains those elements which, also, we

find in truth. Truth and goodness are each the

correspondence, or rather each the identity, of idea and

existence. In truth we start with existence, as being

the appearance of perfection, and we go on to complete

ideally what really must be there. In goodness, on the

other hand, we begin with an idea of what is perfect,

and we then make, or else find, this same idea in what

exists. And the idea also I take to be desired. Goodness

is the verification in existence of a desired ideal

content, and it thus implies the measurement of fact by

a suggested idea. Hence both goodness and truth contain

the separation of idea and existence, and involve a

process in time. And, therefore, each is

appearance, and but a one-sided aspect of the

Real.

But the good (it may be objected) need involve no

idea. Is not the pleasant, as such, good? Is not at any

rate any feeling in which we rest with satisfaction, at

once good in itself? I answer these questions in the

negative. Good, in the proper sense, implies the

fulfilment of desire; at least, if you consider anything

apart from the realization of a suggested idea, it is at

a stage below goodness. Such an experience would be, but

it would not, properly, have yet become either good or

true. And on reflection, perhaps, we should not wish to

make use of these terms. For, at our level of mental

life, whatever satisfies and contents us can hardly fail

to have some implication with desire. And, if we take it

where as yet it suggests nothing, where we have no idea

of what we feel, and where we do not realize, however

dimly, that "it is this which is good"--then it is no

paradox to refuse to such a stage the name of goodness.

Such a feeling would become good, if for a moment I were

so to regard it; for I then should possess the idea of

what satisfies, and should find that idea given also in

fact. But, where ideas are absent, we should not speak

of anything as being actually good or true. Goodness and

truth may be there potentially, but as yet neither of

them is there.

And that an idea is required for goodness seems

fairly clear, but with regard to desire there is more

room for doubt. I may approve, in the sense of finding a

pleasant idea realized, and yet, in some cases, desire

appears to be absent. For, in some cases, existence does

not oppose my idea, and there is, hence, no

place open for the tension of desire. This assertion

might be combated, but, for myself, I am prepared to

admit it. And the inclusion of desire in the idea of

good, to this extent I allow, may be called arbitrary.

But it seems justifiable, because (as things are) desire

must be developed. Approval without desire is but an

extreme and a passing condition. There cannot fail to

come a wavering, and so an opposition, in my state; and

with this at once we have the tension required for

desire. Desire, I thus admit, may, for the moment, be

absent from approval; but, because it necessarily must

ensue, I take it as essential. Still this point, in my

opinion, has little importance. What is important is to