SECTION II.

OF THE PRINCIPLES OF SELF PRESERVATION.

If in human nature there are qualities by which it is distinguished from

every other part of the animal creation, this nature itself is in different

climates and in different ages greatly diversified. The varieties merit our

attention, and the course of every stream into which this mighty current

divides, deserves to be followed to its source. It appears necessary,

however, that we attend to the universal qualities of our nature, before we

regard its varieties, or attempt to explain differences consisting in the

unequal possession or application of dispositions and powers that are in

some measure common to all mankind.

Man, like the other animals, has certain instinctive propensities, which;

prior to the perception of pleasure or pain, and prior to the experience of

what is pernicious or useful, lead him to perform many functions which

terminate in himself, or have a relation to his fellow creatures. He has

one set of dispositions which tend to his animal preservation, and to the

continuance of his race; another which lead to society, and by inlisting

him on the side of one tribe or community, frequently engage him in war and

contention with the rest of mankind. His powers of discernment, or his

intellectual faculties, which, under the appellation of _reason_, are

distinguished from the analogous endowments of other animals, refer to the

objects around him, either as they are subjects of mere knowledge, or as

they are subjects of approbation or censure. He is formed not only to know,

but likewise to admire and to contemn; and these proceedings of his mind

have a principal reference to his own character, and to that of his fellow

creatures, as being the subjects on which he is chiefly concerned to

distinguish what is right from what is wrong. He enjoys his felicity

likewise on certain fixed and determinate conditions; and either as an

individual apart, or as a member of civil society, must take a particular

course, in order to reap the advantages of his nature. He is, withal, in a

very high degree susceptible of habits; and can, by forbearance or

exercise, so far weaken, confirm, or even diversify his talents, and his

dispositions, as to appear, in a great measure, the arbiter of his own rank

in nature, and the author of all the varieties which are exhibited in the

actual history of his species. The universal characteristics, in the mean

time, to which we have now referred, must, when we would treat of any part

of this history, constitute the first subject of our attention; and they

require not only to be enumerated, but to be distinctly considered.

The dispositions which tend to the preservation of the individual, while

they continue to operate in the manner of instinctive desires; are nearly

the same in man that they are in the other animals; but in him they are

sooner or later combined with reflection and foresight; they give rise to

his apprehensions on the subject of property, and make him acquainted with

that object of care which he calls his interest. Without the instincts

which teach the beaver and the squirrel, the ant and the bee, to make up

their little hoards for winter, at first improvident, and where no

immediate object of passion is near, addicted to sloth, he becomes, in

process of time, the great storemaster among animals. He finds in a

provision of wealth, which he is probably never to employ, an object of his

greatest solicitude, and the principal idol of his mind. He apprehends a

relation between his person and his property, which renders what he calls

his own in a manner a part of himself, a constituent of his rank, his

condition, and his character; in which, independent of any real enjoyment,

he may be fortunate or unhappy; and, independent of any personal merit, he

may be an object of consideration or neglect; and in which he may be

wounded and injured, while his person is safe, and every want of his nature

is completely supplied.

In these apprehensions, while other passions only operate occasionally, the

interested find the object of their ordinary cares; their motive to the

practice of mechanic and commercial arts; their temptation to trespass on

the laws of justice; and, when extremely corrupted, the price of their

prostitutions, and the standard of their opinions on the subject of good

and of evil. Under this influence, they would enter, if not restrained by

the laws of civil society, on a scene of violence or meanness, which would

exhibit our species, by turns, under an aspect more terrible and odious, or

more vile and contemptible, than that of any animal which inherits the

earth.

Although the consideration of interest is founded on the experience of

animal wants and desires, its object is not to gratify any particular

appetite, but to secure the means of gratifying all; and it imposes

frequently a restraint on the very desires from which it arose, more

powerful and more severe than those of religion or duty. It arises from the

principles of self preservation in the human frame; but is a corruption, or

at least a partial result, of those principles, and is upon many accounts

very improperly termed _self-love_.

Love is an affection which carries the attention of the mind beyond itself,

and is the sense of a relation to some fellow creature as to its object.

Being a complacency and a continued satisfaction in this object, it has,

independent of any external event, and in the midst of disappointment and

sorrow, pleasures and triumphs unknown to those who are guided by mere

considerations of interest; in every change of condition, it continues

entirely distinct from the sentiments which we feel on the subject of

personal success or adversity. But as the care a man entertains for his own

interest, and the attention his affection makes him pay to that of another,

may have similar effects, the one on his own fortune, the other on that of

his friend, we confound the principles from which he acts; we suppose that

they are the same in kind, only referred to different objects; and we not

only misapply the name of love, in conjunction with self, but, in a manner

tending to degrade our nature, we limit the aim of this supposed selfish

affection to the securing or accumulating the constituents of interest, of

the means of mere animal life.

It is somewhat remarkable, that notwithstanding men value themselves so

much on qualities of the mind, on parts, learning, and wit, on courage,

generosity, and honour, those men are still supposed to be in the highest

degree selfish or attentive to themselves, who are most careful of animal

life, and who are least mindful of rendering that life an object worthy of

care. It will be difficult, however, to tell why a good understanding, a

resolute and generous mind, should not, by every man in his senses, be

reckoned as much parts of himself, as either his stomach or his palate, and

much more than his estate or his dress. The epicure, who consults his

physician, how he may restore his relish for food, and, by creating an

appetite, renew his enjoyment, might at least with an equal regard to

himself, consult how he might strengthen his affection to a parent or a

child, to his country or to mankind; and it is probable that an appetite of

this sort would prove a source of enjoyment not less than the former.

By our supposed selfish maxims, notwithstanding, we generally exclude from

among the objects of our personal cares, many of the happier and more

respectable qualities of human nature. We consider affection and courage as

mere follies, that lead us to neglect, or expose ourselves; we make wisdom

consist in a regard to our interest; and without explaining what interest

means, we would have it understood as the only reasonable motive of action

with mankind. There is even a system of philosophy founded upon tenets of

this sort, and such is our opinion of what men are likely to do upon

selfish principles, that we think it must have a tendency very dangerous to

virtue. But the errors of this system do not consist so much in general

principles, as in their particular applications; not so much in teaching

men to regard themselves, as in leading them to forget, that their happiest

affections, their candour, and their independence of mind, are in reality

parts of themselves. And the adversaries of this supposed selfish

philosophy, where it makes self-love the ruling passion with mankind, have

had reason to find fault, not so much with its general representations of

human nature, as with the obtrusion of a mere innovation in language for a

discovery in science.

When the vulgar speak of their different motives, they are satisfied with

ordinary names, which refer to known and obvious distinctions. Of this kind

are the terms _benevolence_ and _selfishness_, by the first of

which they express their friendly affections, and by the second their

interest. The speculative are not always satisfied with this proceeding;

they would analyze, as well as enumerate the principles of nature; and the

chance is, that, merely to gain the appearance of something new, without

any prospect of real advantage, they will attempt to change the application

of words. In the case before us, they have actually found, that benevolence

is no more than a species of self-love; and would oblige us, if possible,

to look out for a new set of names, by which we may distinguish the

selfishness of the parent when he takes care of his child, from his

selfishness when he only takes care of himself. For, according to this

philosophy, as in both cases he only means to gratify a desire of his own,

he is in both cases equally selfish. The term _benevolent_, in the

mean time, is not employed to characterize persons who have no desires of

their own, but persons whose own desires prompt them to procure the welfare

of others. The fact is, that we should need only a fresh supply of

language, instead of that which by this seeming discovery we should have

lost, in order to make our reasonings proceed as they formerly did. But it

is certainly impossible to live and to act with men, without employing

different names to distinguish the humane from the cruel, and the

benevolent from the selfish.

These terms have their equivalents in every tongue; they were invented by

men of no refinement, who only meant to express what they distinctly

perceived, or strongly felt. And if a man of speculation should prove, that

we are selfish in a sense of his own, it does not follow that we are so in

the sense of the vulgar; or, as ordinary men would understand his

conclusion, that we are condemned in every instance to act on motives of

interest, covetousness, pusillanimity, and cowardice; for such is conceived

to be the ordinary import of selfishness in the character of man.

An affection or passion of any kind is sometimes said to give us an

interest in its object; and humanity itself gives an interest in the

welfare of mankind. This term _interest_, which commonly implies

little more than our property, is sometimes put for utility in general, and

this for happiness; insomuch, that, under these ambiguities, it is not

surprising we are still unable to determine, whether interest is the only

motive of human action, and the standard by which to distinguish our good

from our ill.

So much is said in this place, not from a desire to partake in any such

controversy, but merely to confine the meaning of the term _interest_

to its most common acceptation, and to intimate a design to employ it in

expressing those objects of care which refer to our external condition, and

the preservation of our animal nature. When taken in this sense, it will

not surely be thought to comprehend at once all the motives of human

conduct. If men be not allowed to have disinterested benevolence, they will

not be denied to have disinterested passions of another kind. Hatred,

indignation, and rage, frequently urge them to act in opposition to their

known interest, and even to hazard their lives, without any hopes of

compensation in any future returns of preferment or profit.

An Essay on the History of Civil Society, Eighth Edition · 第 2 / 14 章