which constitutes the condition under which alone anything can be an
end in itself, this has not merely a relative worth, i.e., value,
but an intrinsic worth, that is, dignity.

Now morality is the condition under which alone a rational being can
be an end in himself, since by this alone is it possible that he
should be a legislating member in the kingdom of ends. Thus
morality, and humanity as capable of it, is that which alone has
dignity. Skill and diligence in labour have a market value; wit,
lively imagination, and humour, have fancy value; on the other hand,
fidelity to promises, benevolence from principle (not from
instinct), have an intrinsic worth. Neither nature nor art contains
anything which in default of these it could put in their place, for
their worth consists not in the effects which spring from them, not in
the use and advantage which they secure, but in the disposition of
mind, that is, the maxims of the will which are ready to manifest
themselves in such actions, even though they should not have the
desired effect. These actions also need no recommendation from any
subjective taste or sentiment, that they may be looked on with
immediate favour and satisfaction: they need no immediate propension
or feeling for them; they exhibit the will that performs them as an
object of an immediate respect, and nothing but reason is required
to impose them on the will; not to flatter it into them, which, in the
case of duties, would be a contradiction. This estimation therefore
shows that the worth of such a disposition is dignity, and places it
infinitely above all value, with which it cannot for a moment be
brought into comparison or competition without as it were violating
its sanctity.

What then is it which justifies virtue or the morally good