living is the result, and the ultimate end. So it is in everything. Eat the peach, and enjoy it; take the remedy,and get well; ascend the mountain, turn your eyes upon the prospect,—and enjoy it. The ascent and the turning of the eyes are the immediate result of volition; the enjoyment is not willed, but comes of its own accord as a result of the constitution of the perceptive powers and the landscape in their relation to each other. It is here as in the machinery which man constructs. He may build a mill, supply it with wheat, set it in motion, and to all these volition is in immediate relation. But the ultimate end of the mill is the flour, and that is ground by the mill. To that the will, as an executive act, is not proximate. Hence, ultimate ends, those ultimate for man, have no exchangeable value. They cannot be bought and sold, and in this sense are worth nothing. As the brain has no sensibility itself, but is the condition and fountain of sensibility for all other parts, so these, having no exchangeable value, are the condition and ground of all such value. Hence, after having chosen an ultimate end, an act, not of volition, but of choice, we are always to understand what it is that lies proximate to that, and to attain that must be the object of all immediate volitions and efforts. And hence, again, in accordance with our present scheme of thought, virtue will consist in the choice of the right end, followed, of course, if the choice be thoroughgoing, by the willing of that state or mode of activity which is believed to be proximate to that. That state is always proximate to the will; no means are required, and so a failure to be virtuous admits of no excuse.

This relation of volition to an ultimate end has not generally been stated with sufficient distinctness, and the result has been a constant puzzle. It is generally said that

all men seek happiness, and yet no man ever made it the direct object of volition. No man can. That God holds in his own power. It is his immediate gift through that constitution and relation of things which he has established. We will that which he has made the antecedent and condition of happiness, and he gives the happiness. We say "open sesame," and the gate opens of its own accord. This is what men mean when they say they will do their duty and leave the event with God.

But besides an ultimate, there is also a supreme or chief end. A supreme end is also ultimate; but is that to which, in any possible conflict of ultimate ends, all others must be subordinated. Ultimate ends often, and necessarily, conflict with each other. The pleasure from each sense is ultimate; but it may be necessary to choose between that of music through the ear and that of beauty through the eye. In such cases we may indulge our preference; but no end may be chosen as ultimate when it would conflict with that which is supreme.

Any ultimate end may be adopted as supreme; but the wisdom of man consists in choosing that intended by God, which can be but one, and in giving to each of those thus made secondary its proper place.

The choice of this supreme end is the highest act of a rational being, and involves the activity of all his rational and moral powers. It is the characteristic of a rational action that it involves the conception of an end, and of a moral action that it involves the preference of an end. And as we regard a moral being as virtuous or vicious according to the end chosen, so do we regard a rational being as wise or foolish on the same ground. Wisdom and folly chiefly respect the ends which men pursue, rather than the means by which they pursue them. Here, then, we

find a point at which the rational and moral natures coalesce.

But to be more particular. What the supreme end of man, as fixed by God, must be, will be determined by what he is in himself, and as related to other beings. The conception and choice of such an end will therefore imply a knowledge, implicit or formal, of himself, and of those beings and relations through which alone the end can be realized. This is the highest of all knowledge. There is in it the rvãoɩ σεαvτóv* of the ancients, and something

more.

In the conception of an end there is also involved that of some good. This cannot come from the intellect alone. There must be the activity of the emotive nature, —— of that through which we enjoy, as well as of that through which we apprehend. But the recognition of a good through the intellectual and emotive nature acting conjointly, does not make it an end, much less a supreme end. To become such it must be chosen. This involves the moral nature, since the character of every man is determined by the end he chooses. But, further, that a good should become a supreme end implies that the will shall at once put forth determinate acts for its attainment. Thus the conception of a supreme end involves that of the action of the intellectual, the emotional, the moral, and the executive powers, that is, of the whole personality,- of the man in his unity.

An end, as has been said, involves some form of good. We next inquire, then, what is a good?

A good must be either some form of enjoyment, satisfaction, blessedness; or that which is the occasion, cause, or ground of such enjoyment.

There are many objects without us so related to our organs and faculties that enjoyment is the result of their

reciprocal action. Thus light acts upon the eye, and is the condition of seeing. Here we have the eye, the light, and the product of their joint action, that is, seeing. A peach eaten acts upon the palate, and is the condition. of a pleasant taste. Here we have the palate, the peach, and the result. Are, then, the light and the peach a good? As conditional for these results, they are good, but not a good. When we apply the term good, we mean either to indicate that which is good in itself, or we have reference to an end, so that the question may be asked, Good for what? and if that question can be answered by indicating any use of the thing for an end beyond itself, then it cannot be, so far forth, a good, nor can it be any part of a supreme good. But all outward objects, and all possessions, sometimes called goods, have a use beyond themselves. If they were never to contribute to comfort, enjoyment, or utility in any way, they would be goodfor nothing. It would seem self-evident that light never seen, the sapid quality of the peach never tasted, would not be a good.

We seem, then, driven, in our search for a good, to living, sensitive, conscious beings, whose faculties are in action. If there were no consciousness in the universe, there would be no good. But if found here, good must be either in some state of the being that is back of the activity; or in the activity itself; or in the results of the activity.

Let us illustrate this. Health is commonly regarded as a good. Doubtless, there is a state of the materials composing the body that is conditional for health, and is back of their activity. But of that we know, and can know, nothing. As known by us, health is that state of the

body in which each part accomplishes perfectly its end.

、

GOOD ONLY IN CONSCIOUSNESS.

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When the teeth masticate, and the stomach digests, and the liver secretes, and the blood circulates perfectly, and every other organ and portion of the body performs perfectly its part, there is health. This state, however, is itself a form of activity, since a cessation of activity would be death. As a result of this perfect performance of its office by each part there is power, and a state of conscious well-being, in which a person is said to enjoy himself. Here it must be conceded that the whole worth both of the state and of the activity, if we choose to distinguish them, is from their results. If there were from them no power and no enjoyment, they would be good for nothing. Here, what we have to do, and all we have to do, is to secure that form of activity which we call health. The results follow by the constitution of God. All that was said respecting an ultimate end as not lying approximate to volition applies perfectly here.

And so it is in mind. There may be a state of mind back of activity, and so back of consciousness, that is good as related to results; but without those results appearing in consciousness it cannot be a good. If conceivable at all in such a state, which I think it is not, mind could never be known as mind, and, never emerging from it, would not rise above the dignity of matter.

As there is, then, no good without consciousness, which involves activity, it would seem that the good must be found either in the activity itself, or in its results.

But activity in itself cannot be a good. If it had no results it would be good for nothing, and those results may be evil and wretchedness, as well as blessing.

We turn, then, in this search, to the results in consciousness, of activity. We are so constituted that any form of normal activity, physical or mental, produces satisfaction,