Mere common sense will not give us the answer. It would be hard to persuade common sense that an action which ruined thousands of innocent people and made desolate vast tracts of country, which struck a terrific blow at the agricultural and pastoral industries of a continent, can be described as a good action. Neither will common sense blame Mr. Thatcher for obeying orders. He is unquestionably to be praised for his zeal, his enthusiasm, his unconquerable persistence in what he thought to be an admirable project. We have only to look at his portrait to see that he was a man of high character, a man actuated by the best intentions. If intentions, as common sense tells us, are what really distinguish right conduct from wrong, Mr. Thatcher beyond doubt acted rightly. What then?—will common sense admit that a man may act rightly in doing a bad action? It sounds like a paradox. it is certainly a puzzle; and if you never, in the course of your practical life, feel that you are puzzled by it, that can only be because you never think.
We make a mistake, of course, when we think of ‘an action’ as if it were a simple separate whole. Merely to open a basket, as Mr. Thatcher did, is a thing neither right nor wrong in itself; all depends on what is inside the basket—depends, that is, on the consequence of the basket’s being opened. The immediate consequence, in this instance, was that the rabbits jumped out, happy in their freedom; so far, the act had added to the sum of happiness in the sentient world; so far, it was a good action. Ten years later, it began to be of a darker colour, for its consequences had begun to develop.
Surely there never was a more fallacious saying than Tennyson’s:
And, because right is right, to follow right
Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.
Half the disasters endured by the long-suffering human race have been produced by good men who acted in the scorn of consequence. To do a thing without considering what the result of your action will be is mere imbecility. The truth is with that other poet who tells us that
…Of waves
Our life is, and our deeds are pregnant graves
Blown rolling from the sunset to the dawn.
An action must be considered with its consequences; with the sum-total of its consequences. And as no human being will live long enough to see the sum-total of the consequences of any of his actions—for the ultimate consequence cannot be known until time comes to an end—we can never say that a given action is absolutely good or absolutely bad.
How then are we to choose between right and wrong conduct? Choose we must, somehow; ‘life’s business’, as Browning says, ‘being just the terrible choice.’ Some years ago, certain persons wished to introduce into Western Australia a certain kind of deer. It was pointed out, however, that this very species had been introduced into South Africa, had eaten farmers out of house and home, and had been in fact a greater plague than ever the rabbit was in Australia. The persons who were preparing to do this thing without inquiry into the consequence of similar procedure in other countries would have been guilty, had they had their way, not merely of a bad action, but of a wrong action. It would be of no use to plead that their intentions were good—we know what road is paved with good intentions. It would be of no use to tell us that their consciences had commended the act; it is a common and deadly fallacy, that a mysterious faculty called the conscience absolves us from the duty of finding out, to the best of our ability, the probable consequences of our action. Consideration of Mr. Thatcher and his basket of rabbits thus brings us round to the conclusion reached so many centuries ago by Socrates. Virtue is knowledge.