The Nature of Goodness | Page 6

popular speech distinguishes worth and value in much the same way as
I have distinguished intrinsic and extrinsic goodness. To say that an
object has value is to declare it of consequence in reference to
something other than itself. To speak of its worth is to call attention to
what its own nature involves. In a somewhat similar fashion Mr.
Bradley distinguishes the extension and harmony of goodness, and Mr.
Alexander the right and the perfect.

VI
When, however, we have got the two sorts of goodness distinctly
parted, our next business is to get them together again. Are they in fact
altogether separate? Is the extrinsic goodness of an object entirely
detachable from its intrinsic? I think not. They are invariably found
together. Indeed, extrinsic goodness would be impossible in an object
which did not possess a fair degree of intrinsic. How could a table, for
example, be useful for holding a glass of water if the table were not
well made, if powers appropriate to tables were not present and

mutually cooperating? Unless equipped with intrinsic goodness, the
table can exhibit no extrinsic goodness whatever. And, on the other
hand, intrinsic goodness, coherence of inner constitution, is always
found attended by some degree of extrinsic goodness, or influence over
other things. Nothing exists entirely by itself. Each object has its
relationships, and through these is knitted into the frame of the
universe.
Still, though the two forms of goodness are thus regularly united, we
may fix our attention on the one or the other. According as we do so,
we speak of an object as intrinsically or extrinsically good. For that
matter, one of the two may sometimes seem to be present in a
preponderating degree, and to determine by its presence the character
of the object. In judging ordinary physical things, I believe we usually
test them by their serviceability to us--by their extrinsic goodness, that
is--rather than bother our heads with asking what is their inner structure,
and how full of organization they may be. Whereas, when we come to
estimate human beings, we ordinarily regard it as a kind of indignity to
assess primarily their extrinsic goodness, _i. e_., to ask chiefly how
serviceable they may be and to ignore their inner worth. To sum up a
man in terms of his labor value is the moral error of the slaveholder.
If, however, we seek the highest point to which either kind of
excellence may be carried, it will be found where each most fully
assists the other. But this is not easy to imagine. When I set a glass of
water on the table, the table is undoubtedly slightly shaken by the strain.
If I put a large book upon it, the strain of the table becomes apparent.
Putting a hundred pound weight upon it is an experiment that is
perilous. For the extrinsic goodness of the table is at war with the
intrinsic; that is, the employment of the table wears it out. In doing its
work and fitting into the large relationships for which tables exist, its
inner organization becomes disjointed. In time it will go to pieces. We
can, however, imagine a magic table, which might be consolidated by
all it does. At first it was a little weak, but by upholding the glass of
water it grew stronger. As I laid the book on it, its joints acquired a
tenacity which they lacked before; and only after receiving the hundred
pound weight did it acquire the full strength of which it was capable.
That would indeed be a marvelous table, where use and inner
construction continually helped each other. Something like it we may

hereafter find possible in certain regions of personal goodness, but no
such perpetual motion is possible to things. For them employment is
costly.

VII
I have already strained my readers' attention sufficiently by these
abstract statements of matters technical and minute. Let us stop
thinking for a while and observe. I will draw a picture of goodness and
teach the eye what sort of thing it is. We have only to follow in our
drawing the conditions already laid down. We agreed that when an
object was good it was good for something; so that if A is good, it must
be good for B. This instrumental relation, of means to end, may well be
indicated by an arrow pointing out the direction in which the influence
moves. But if B is also to be good, it too must be connected by an
arrow with another object, C, and this in the same way with D. The
process might evidently be continued forever, but will be sufficiently
shown in the three stages of Figure 1. Here the arrow always expresses
the extrinsic goodness of the letter