But it is not these inner contradictions alone which hinder Philosophical Ethics from making use of theological assumptions; that which has called Philosophical Ethics into existence and lends it interest, is the conviction that the ultimate reason of the ethical must lie in man himself. However lofty may be the ideal, it can become man's ideal only through his own recognition of it as ideal. For this reason Socrates was the founder of Ethics by the command: "Know thyself!" In this command is expressed the principle of free investigation, the opposite to that of blind obedience. The desire to make Ethics as far as possible independent of assailable assumptions is likewise active in the establishment of a system of Philosophical Ethics. In the great, sometimes too great, regard paid to the distinction between the subjective and the objective worth of actions, and the contest as to the relative importance of the two factors, the fact is often overlooked, that the standard by which ethical judgment is pronounced is itself of subjective nature. The question arises as to wherefore we seek a general and objective standard. It is a fact that human beings reflect upon their own acts, pronouncing them, according to the result of this reflection, good or bad. How are such judgments as these possible? We will suppose, first, the simplest conceivable case, namely, that the acting subject pronounces judgment on his own act without consideration of the existence of other beings. Such a judgment must presuppose memory; but it presupposes something more, namely pain or pleasure through memory; an end is aimed at only because the thought of a result causes pleasure. In the simple case supposed, the feeling which determines the end can be only that of the individual himself, and the latter will judge the act as good or bad according as it has affected his own life. The character and significance of the judgment will depend on whether the feeling of pain or pleasure is determined only by the single moment or has reference to the life of the individual as a whole. The lower the life of consciousness, the more isolated and independent are the single moments of time in relation to each other, and the less is the significance of the memory and the thought of the ego as a whole embracing the single moments with their content. Only a half-unconscious instinct hinders the individual from losing himself in the moment; the instinct of self-preservation leads him to consider the future and to make use of the experience of the past. The more he loses himself in the moment, the less is the power of judgment, since comparison and action and reaction of the different states cannot take place. The single moment bears to all others the relation of an absolute egoist, who does not wish to relinquish any part of its satisfaction for their advantage.