Semanticate

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 				<p><span epub:type="ordinal">112</span>. The method which must be employed in order to decide the question “What things have intrinsic value, and in what degrees?” has already been explained in <abbr>Chap.</abbr> <span epub:type="z3998:roman">III</span> (§§ <a href="chapter-3.xhtml#chapter-3-55-p-1" epub:type="ordinal">55</a>, <a href="chapter-3.xhtml#chapter-3-57-p-1" epub:type="ordinal">57</a>). In order to arrive at a correct decision on the first part of this question, it is necessary to consider what things are such that, if they existed <em>by themselves</em>, in absolute isolation, we should yet judge their existence to be good; and, in order to decide upon the relative <em>degrees</em> of value of different things, we must similarly consider what comparative value seems to attach to the isolated existence of each. By employing this method, we shall guard against two errors, which seem to have been the chief causes which have vitiated previous conclusions on the subject. The first of these is (1) that which consists in supposing that what seems absolutely necessary here and now, for the existence of anything good⁠—what we cannot do without⁠—is therefore good in itself. If we isolate such things, which are mere means to good, and suppose a world in which they alone, and nothing but they, existed, their intrinsic worthlessness becomes apparent. And, secondly, there is the more subtle error (2) which consists in neglecting the principle of organic unities. This error is committed, when it is supposed, that, if one part of a whole has no intrinsic value, the value of the whole must reside entirely in the other parts. It has, in this way, been commonly supposed, that, if all valuable wholes could be seen to have one and only one common property, the wholes must be valuable solely <em>because</em> they possess this property; and the illusion is greatly strengthened, if the common property in question seems, considered by itself, to have more value than the other parts of such wholes, considered by themselves. But, if we consider the property in question, <em>in isolation</em>, and then compare it with the whole, of which it forms a part, it may become easily apparent that, existing by itself, the property in question has not nearly so much value, as has the whole to which it belongs. Thus, if we compare the value of a certain amount of pleasure, <em>existing absolutely by itself</em>, with the value of certain “enjoyments,” containing an equal amount of pleasure, it may become apparent that the “enjoyment” is much better than the pleasure, and also, in some cases, much worse. In such a case it is plain that the “enjoyment” does <em>not</em> owe its value <em>solely</em> to the pleasure it contains, although it might easily have appeared to do so, when we only considered the other constituents of the enjoyment, and seemed to see that, without the pleasure, they would have had no value. It is now apparent, on the contrary, that the whole “enjoyment” owes its value quite equally to the presence of the other constituents, <em>even though</em> it may be true that the pleasure is the only constituent having any value by itself. And similarly, if we are told that all things owe their value solely to the fact that they are “realisations of the true self,” we may easily refute this statement, by asking whether the predicate that is meant by “realising the true self,” supposing that it could exist alone, would have any value whatsoever. Either the <em>thing</em>, which does “realise the true self,” has intrinsic value or it has not; and if it has, then it certainly does not owe its value solely to the fact that it realises the true self.</p>
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-				<p><span epub:type="ordinal">113</span>. If, now, we use this method of absolute isolation, and guard against these errors, it appears that the question we have to answer is far less difficult than the controversies of Ethics might have led us to expect. Indeed, once the meaning of the question is clearly understood, the answer to it, in its main outlines, appears to be so obvious, that it runs the risk of seeming to be a platitude. By far the most valuable things, which we know or can imagine, are certain states of consciousness, which may be roughly described as the pleasures of human intercourse and the enjoyment of beautiful objects. No one, probably, who has asked himself the question, has ever doubted that personal affection and the appreciation of what is beautiful in Art or Nature, are good in themselves; nor, if we consider strictly what things are worth having <em>purely for their own sakes</em>, does it appear probable that anyone will think that anything else has <em>nearly</em> so great a value as the things which are included under these two heads. I have myself urged in <abbr>Chap.</abbr> <span epub:type="z3998:roman">III</span> (<a href="chapter-3.xhtml#chapter-3-50-p-1">§ <span epub:type="ordinal">50</span></a>) that the mere existence of what is beautiful does appear to have <em>some</em> intrinsic value; but I regard it as indubitable that <abbr>Prof.</abbr> Sidgwick was so far right, in the view there discussed, that such mere existence of what is beautiful has value, so small as to be negligible, in comparison with that which attaches to the <em>consciousness</em> of beauty. This simple truth may, indeed, be said to be universally recognised. What has <em>not</em> been recognised is that it is the ultimate and fundamental truth of Moral Philosophy. That it is only for the sake of these things⁠—in order that as much of them as possible may at some time exist⁠—that anyone can be justified in performing any public or private duty; that they are the raison d’être of virtue; that it is they⁠—these complex wholes <em>themselves</em>, and not any constituent or characteristic of them⁠—that form the rational ultimate end of human action and the sole criterion of social progress: these appear to be truths which have been generally overlooked.</p>
+				<p><span epub:type="ordinal">113</span>. If, now, we use this method of absolute isolation, and guard against these errors, it appears that the question we have to answer is far less difficult than the controversies of Ethics might have led us to expect. Indeed, once the meaning of the question is clearly understood, the answer to it, in its main outlines, appears to be so obvious, that it runs the risk of seeming to be a platitude. By far the most valuable things, which we know or can imagine, are certain states of consciousness, which may be roughly described as the pleasures of human intercourse and the enjoyment of beautiful objects. No one, probably, who has asked himself the question, has ever doubted that personal affection and the appreciation of what is beautiful in Art or Nature, are good in themselves; nor, if we consider strictly what things are worth having <em>purely for their own sakes</em>, does it appear probable that anyone will think that anything else has <em>nearly</em> so great a value as the things which are included under these two heads. I have myself urged in <abbr>Chap.</abbr> <span epub:type="z3998:roman">III</span> (<a href="chapter-3.xhtml#chapter-3-50-p-1">§ <span epub:type="ordinal">50</span></a>) that the mere existence of what is beautiful does appear to have <em>some</em> intrinsic value; but I regard it as indubitable that <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Prof.</abbr> Sidgwick was so far right, in the view there discussed, that such mere existence of what is beautiful has value, so small as to be negligible, in comparison with that which attaches to the <em>consciousness</em> of beauty. This simple truth may, indeed, be said to be universally recognised. What has <em>not</em> been recognised is that it is the ultimate and fundamental truth of Moral Philosophy. That it is only for the sake of these things⁠—in order that as much of them as possible may at some time exist⁠—that anyone can be justified in performing any public or private duty; that they are the raison d’être of virtue; that it is they⁠—these complex wholes <em>themselves</em>, and not any constituent or characteristic of them⁠—that form the rational ultimate end of human action and the sole criterion of social progress: these appear to be truths which have been generally overlooked.</p>
 				<p>That they are truths⁠—that personal affections and aesthetic enjoyments include <em>all</em> the greatest, and <em>by far</em> the greatest, goods we can imagine, will, I hope, appear more plainly in the course of that analysis of them, to which I shall now proceed. All the things, which I have meant to include under the above descriptions, are highly complex <em>organic unities</em>; and in discussing the consequences, which follow from this fact, and the elements of which they are composed, I may hope at the same time both to confirm and to define my position.</p>
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 					<p>The italics are mine. <a href="chapter-3.xhtml#noteref-21" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
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-					<p><abbr>Prof.</abbr> <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J. S.</abbr> Mackenzie, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">A Manual of Ethics</i>, 4th <abbr>ed.</abbr>, <abbr>p.</abbr> 431. The italics are mine. <a href="chapter-4.xhtml#noteref-22" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
+					<p><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Prof.</abbr> <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J. S.</abbr> Mackenzie, <i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">A Manual of Ethics</i>, 4th <abbr>ed.</abbr>, <abbr>p.</abbr> 431. The italics are mine. <a href="chapter-4.xhtml#noteref-22" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>
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 					<p><i epub:type="se:name.publication.book">Prolegomena to Ethics</i>, <abbr>p.</abbr> 178. <a href="chapter-4.xhtml#noteref-23" epub:type="backlink">↩</a></p>