DUTCH
215
DUTY
he recounted for liim the manifold beauties of that
"city devout, with its hundred crosses, without blem-
ish, and without transgression", and added, "I pledge
thee my unerring word, which may not be impugned,
that death is better in reproachless Erin than life for-
ever in Alba." Durrow, like Clonard, Derry, and the
rest, was frequently ravaged by the Danish invaders,
but its complete devastation was left for the fierce
Norman invader, Hugh de Lacy. In 1186 he began
the building of a castle for himself out of the stones of
the dismantled monastery, but the axe of an Irish
labouring man cut him short in his unholy work. The
church and the school are long since gone; not a stone
of the original building may now be found. There
are, however, still to be seen at Durrow a churchyard,
probably marking the ancient site, a Celtic cross, and
a holy well, which will serve to keep the name and the
fame of St. Columba fresh in the minds of the people
forever.
AnAMNAN./.i/f of Columba, ed. Reeves (Dublin, 1857); also by Fowi.ER (London, 1905); Life in The Book of Liimore: Healy, Irrlanil's Ancient Schools and Scholars (Dublin, 1S90); GiLBKHT. Facstmilrs of Irish National MSS.; Whitley Stokes in Auicdota Oxonicnsia (Oxford, 1890).
John Healy. Dutch Guiana. See Guiana.
Duty. — The definition of the term duUj given by lexicographers is: "something that is due"; "obliga- tory service"; "something that one is bound to per- form or to avoid ". In this sense we speak of a duty, duties; and, in general, the sum total of these duties is denoted by the abstract term in the singular. The word is also used to signify that unique factor of con- sciousness which is expressed in the foregoing defini- tions by "obligatory", "bound", "ought", and " moral obligation ". Let us analyse this datum of consciousness. When, concerning a contemplated act, one forms the decision "I ought to do it", the words express an intellectual judgment. But unlike speculative judgments, this one is felt to be not merely declaratory. Nor is it merely preferential ; it asserts itself as imperative and magisterial. It is accom- panied by a feeling impelling one, sometimes effect- ively, sometimes ineffectively, to square his conduct with it. It presumes that there is a right way and a wrong way open, and that the right is better or more worthy than the wrong. All moral judgments of this kind are particular applications of a universal judg- ment which is postulated in each one of them: right is to be done; wrong is to be avoided. Another phe- nomenon of our moral consciousness is that we are aware from our consciousness that nature has consti- tuted a hierarchical order among our feelings, appe- tites, and desires. We instinctively feel, for example, that the emotion of reverence is higher and nobler than the sense of humour; that it is more worthy of us as rational beings to find satisfaction in a noble drama than in watching a dog-fight; that the sentiment of benevolence is superior to that of selfishness. Fur- thermore we are conscious that, unless it has been weakened or atrophied by neglect, the sentiment attending moral j udgments asserts itself as the highest of all; awakens in us the feeling of reverence; and de- mands that all other sentiments and desires, as motives of action, shall be reduced to subordination to the moral judgment. When action is conformed to tliis demand, there ari.ses a feeling of self-approbation, while an ojjposite course is foUowetl by a feeling of self-reproach. Starting from this analysis we may expose the theory of iluty according to Catholic ethics.
DuTV IN Catholic Ethics. — The path of activity proper and congenial to every being is fixed and dic- tated by the nature which the being possesses. The cosmic order which pervades all the non-human uni- verse is predetermined in the natures of the innumera- ble variety of things which make up the universe. For man, too, the course of action proper to him is indi-
cated by the constitution of his nature. A great pari
of liis activity is, like the entire movements of the non-
human world, under the iron grip of determinism,
there are large classes of vital functions, over which he
has no volitional control; and his body is subject to
the physical laws of matter. But, unlike all the lower
world, he is himself the master of his action over a wide
range of life which we know as conduct. He is free to
choose between two opposite courses; he can elect, in
circumstances innumerable, to do or not to do; to do
this action, or to do that other which is incompatible
with it. Does, then, his nature furnish no index for
conduct? Is every form of conduct equally congenial
and equally indifferent to human nature? By no
means. His nature indicates the line of action which
is proper, and the line which is abhorrent to it. This
demand of nature is delivered partly in that hierarchi-
cal order which exists in our feelings and desires as
motives of action ; partly through the reflective reason
which decides what form of action is consonant with
the dignity of a rational being; comprehensively, and
with immediate practical appHcation to action, in
those moral judgments involving the " ought". This
function of reason, aided thus by good will and prac-
tical experience, we call conscience (q. v.).
We have now reached the first strand of the bond which we know as moral obligation, or duty. Duty is a debt owed to the rational nature of which the spokesman and representative is conscience, which imperatively calls for the satisfaction of the claim. But is this the be-all and the end-all of duty? The idea of duty, of indebtedness, involves another self or person to whom the debt is due. Conscience is not another self, it is an element of one's own personality. How can one be said, except through a figure of speech, to be indebted to oneself? Here we must take into consideration another characteristic of conscience. It is that conscience in a dim, undefinable, but very real way, seems to set itself over against the rest of our personality. Its intimations awake, as no other exercise of our reason does, feelings of awe, rev- erence, love, fear, shame, such as are called forth in us by other persons, and by persons only. The univer- sality of this experience is testified to by the expres- sions men commonly employ when speaking of con- science; they call it a voice, a judge; they say that they must answer to conscience for their conduct. Their attitude towards it is as to something not com- pletely identical with them.selves; its whole genesis is not to he accounted for by describing it as one func- tion of life. It is the effect of education and training, some say. Certainly education and training may do a great deal to develop this impression that in con- science there is another self implicated beyond our- selves. But the quickness with which the child re- sponds to its instructor or educator on this point proves that he feels within himself something which confirms his teacher's lesson. Ethical philosophers, and conspicuously among them Newman, have argued that to him who listens reverently and obediently to the dictates of conscience, they inevitably reveal themselves as emanating, originally, from "a Su- preme Governor, a Judge, holy, just, powerful, all-seeing, retributive". If, however, we accept New- man's view as universally true, we cannot easily ad- mit that, as is generally asserted and believed, many men obey conscience and love righteousness, who nevertheless, do not believe in a personal, moral ruler of the universe. Why may not the most uncompro- mising theist admit that the moral guide which the Creator has implanted in our nature is powerful enough successfully to discharge its function, at lea.st in occasional ca.ses, without fully unfolding it.s impli- cations? One of the leading ITnitarian moralists has eloquently expressed this opinion. "The profound sense of "the authority and even sacredness of the moral law is often conspicuous among men whose
