The existence of a moral being then involves the acceptance of him as a free immortal being. But though these are important traits of the Old Testament world image which Kant is trying to show to be the only image that makes morality possible, yet the recognition of a man’s freedom and immortality is not peculiar to it, but may be found in many philosophies. Both, for example, have a place in Spinoza’s system which is as far as possible from giving us an Old Testament account of reality. When we add a third condition, the ruling power of God, we have a difference indeed, but also a difficulty in understanding the necessity of the assumption. To be sure, if we add the idea of justice to that of moral worth, if we require that worth should be rewarded with proportional happiness, then indeed we should have to go beyond experience to convince ourselves that such justice obtains, and we might very well identify the ideal of justice with the idea of a God-governed world. But Kant has insisted throughout that the idea of right and the idea of reward are independent, why then are they not separable? Why in order that there may be a thing that we ought to do, must there be an assurance that we shall be happy in the doing or because of the doing of it? It is easy to give Kant’s answer to this question--it is difficult to make sure that one has understood it. His answer is simply that while morality may be the _highest_ desire of the human heart, it cannot be its _whole_ desire. It _must_ desire happiness as well as virtue. Kant defines the happy man as one whose desires are satisfied. But if we think of this desire as being directed toward a _type_ of object, any attempt to interpret Kant’s motives for introducing a God into his system must meet the obvious difficulty that since morality is the highest type of desire and since it is admitted that all are free to be moral, then the Stoic happiness in virtue is assured quite without reference to a divine government of the world. The only way we can hope to explain in what sense the will to do one’s duty cannot be a complete definition of the object of human desire is to understand that happiness depends upon our obtaining, not a type of thing,--morality or wealth or power or science--but an individual thing. Our demand for moral satisfaction may be realized in one situation as well as another. “To tell the truth,” if that be all we want, lays no conditions on the particular circumstances under which we tell the truth. We want to follow a principle, and principles are abstract enough. But is it not true that the kind of desire of which finite beings have the deepest experience is bent on just those things that cannot be generalized nor made abstract? What we want in them, and that on which our happiness depends, seems to be offered but this once in all possible life, and nothing like it could be imagined that would meet our desires just as well.