Implication, deny, is the direction of desire in the end

towards anything but pleasure. Something is pleasant as

a fact, and solely for that cause it is desired; and

with this the whole question seems forthwith settled.

But pleasure itself, like every other fact, cannot be

something which just happens. Upon its side also,

assuredly, it is not without a reason. And, when we ask,

we find that pleasure co-exists always with what we call

perfection or individuality. But, if so, then surely the

"because" holds as firmly in one way as in the other.

And, so far as I see, if we have a right to deny that a

certain character is necessary for pleasure, we should

have the same right to repudiate the connection between

pleasure and desire. If the one co-existence is mere

accident and a conjunction which happens, then why not

also, and as much, the other? But, if we agree that the

connection is two-sided, and that a degree of relative

perfection is essential to pleasure, just as pleasure,

on its side, is an element in perfection, then Hedonism,

at once, is in principle refuted. The object of desire

will never fail, as such, to contain more than

pleasure; and the idea that either pleasure, or any

other aspect, is the single End in the universe must be

allowed to be untenable (Chapter xxvi.). I may perhaps

put this otherwise by urging that, even if Hedonism were

true, there would be no possible way in which its truth

could be shown.

Passing from this mistake I will notice another

doctrine from which we must dissent. There is a

temptation to identify goodness with the realization of

the Will; and, on the strength of a certain assumption,

this conclusion would, taken broadly, be right. But we

shall see that this assumption is not tenable (Chapter

xxvi.), and, without it, the conclusion cannot stand. We

have noticed that the satisfaction of desire can be

found as well as made by the individual. And where

experienced existence is both pleasant and satisfies

desire, I am unable to see how we can refuse to call it

good. Nor, again, can pleasure be limited so as to be

the feeling of the satisfied will, since it clearly

seems to exist in the absence of volition.

I may perhaps express our general view by saying that

the good is co-extensive with approbation. But I should

add that approbation is to be taken in its

widest sense. To approve is to have an idea in which we

feel satisfaction, and to have or imagine the presence

of this idea in existence. And against the existence

which, actually or in imagination, fails to realize the

idea, the idea becomes an "is to be," a "should" or an

"ought." Nor is approbation in the least confined to the

realm of morality proper, but is found just as much in

the worlds of speculation or art. Wherever a result,

external or inward, is measured by an idea which is

pleasant, and is seen to correspond, we can, in a

certain sense, be said to approve. And, where we

approve, there certainly we can be said also to find the

result good.

The good, in general, is often identified with the

desirable. This, I think, is misleading. For the

desirable means that which is to be, or ought to be,

desired. And it seems, hence, to imply that the good

might be good, and yet not be desired, or,

again, that something might be desired which is not

good. And, if good is taken generally, these assertions

at least are disputable. The term "desirable" belongs to

the world of relative goods, and has a clear meaning

only where we can speak of better and worse. But to good

in general it seems not strictly applicable. A thing is

desirable, when to desire it is better. It is not

desirable, properly, when you can say no more than that

to desire it is good.

The good might be called desirable in the sense that

it essentially has to be desired. For desire is not an

external means, but is contained and involved in

goodness, or at least follows from it necessarily.

Goodness without desire, we might say, would not be

itself, and it is hence desirable (p. 404). This use of

"desirable" would call attention to an important point,

but, for the reason given above, would be misleading. At

any rate it clearly separates for the moment desire from

goodness.

We have attempted now to fix generally the meaning of

goodness, and we may proceed from this to lay stress on

its contradictory character. The good is not the

perfect, but is merely a one-sided aspect of perfection.

It tends to pass beyond itself, and, if it were

completed, it would forthwith cease properly to be good.

I will exhibit its incompleteness first by asking what

it is that is good, and will then go on briefly to point

out the self-contradiction in its essence.

If we seek to know what is goodness, we find

it always as the adjective of something not itself.

Beauty, truth, pleasure, and sensation are all things

that are good. We desire them all, and all can serve as

types or "norms" by which to guide our approbation. And

hence, in a sense, they all will fall under and be

included in goodness. But when we ask, on the other

hand, if goodness exhausts all that lies in these

regions, the answer must be different. For we see at

once that each possesses a character of its own; and, in

order to be good, the other aspects of the universe must

also be themselves. The good then, as such, is obviously

not so wide as the totality of things. And the same

conclusion is at once forced on us, if we go on to

examine the essence of goodness. For that is self-

discrepant, and is therefore appearance and not Reality.

The good implies a distinction of idea from existence,

and a division which, in the lapse of time, is

perpetually healed up and re-made.

And such a process is involved in the inmost being of

the good. A satisfied desire is, in short, inconsistent

with itself For, so far as it is quite satisfied, it is

not a desire; and, so far as it is a desire, it must

remain at least partly unsatisfied. And where we are

said to want nothing but what we have, and where

approbation precludes desire, we have, first, an ideal

continuance of character in conflict with change. But in

any case, apart from this, there is implied the

suggestion of an idea, distinct from the fact while

identified with it. Each of these features is necessary,

and each is inconsistent with the other. And the

resolution of this difference between idea and existence

is both demanded by the good, and yet remains

unattainable. Its accomplishment, indeed, would destroy

the proper essence of goodness, and the good is

therefore in itself incomplete and self-transcendent. It

moves towards an other and a higher character,

in which, becoming perfect, it would be merged.

Hence obviously the good is not the Whole, and the

Whole, as such, is not good. And, viewed thus in

relation to the Absolute, there is nothing either bad or

good, there is not anything better or worse. For the

Absolute is not its appearances. But (as we have seen

throughout) such a truth is itself partial and false,

since the Absolute appears in its phenomena and is real

nowhere outside them. We indeed can only deny that it is

any one, because it is all of them in unity. And so,

regarded from this other side, the Absolute is good, and