four kinds of feelings:--(1) Rejoicing at the happiness of
others--Sociality, Good-will, Generosity, Gratitude; (2) Grieving for
the misery of others--Compassion, Mercy; (3) Rejoicing at the misery of
others--Anger, Jealousy, Cruelty, Malice; and (4) Grieving for the
happiness of others--Emulation, Envy. All these feelings may be shown
to originate in association. We select as examples of Hartley's method,
Benevolence and Compassion. Benevolence is the pleasing affection that
prompts us to act for the benefit of others. It is not a primitive
feeling; but grows out of such circumstances as the following. Almost
all the pleasures, and few, in comparison, of the pains, of children,
are caused by others; who are thus, in the course of time, regarded
with pleasure, independently of their usefulness to us. Many of our
pleasures are enjoyed along with, and are enhanced by, the presence of
others. This tends to make us more sociable. Moreover, we are taught
and required to put on the appearance of good-will, and to do kindly
actions, and this may beget in us the proper feelings. Finally, we must
take into account the praise and rewards of benevolence, together with
the reciprocity of benefits that we may justly expect. All those
elements may be so mixed and blended as to produce a feeling that shall
teach us to do good to others without any expectation of reward, even
that most refined recompense--the pleasure arising from a beneficent
act. Thus Hartley conceives that he both proves the existence of
disinterested feeling, and explains the manner of its developement.
His account of _Compassion_ is similar. In the young, the signs and
appearances of distress excite a painful feeling, by recalling their
own experience of misery. In the old, the connexion between a feeling
and its adjuncts has been weakened by experience. Also, when children
are brought up together, they are often annoyed by the same things, and
this tends powerfully to create a fellow-feeling. Again, when their
parents are ill, they are taught to cultivate pity, and are also
subjected to unusual restraints. All those things conspire to make
children desire to remove the sufferings of others. Various
circumstances increase the feeling of pity, as when the sufferers are
beloved by us, or are morally good. It is confirmatory of this view,
that the most compassionate are those whose nerves are easily
irritable, or whose experience of affliction has been considerable.
2.--_The Moral Sense_. Hartley denies the existence of any moral
instinct, or any moral judgments, proceeding upon the eternal relations
of things. If there be such, let instances of them be produced prior to
the influence of associations. Still, our moral approbation or
disapprobation is disinterested, and has a factitious independence. (1)
Children are taught what is right and wrong, and thus the associations
connected with the idea of praise and blame are transferred to the
virtues inculcated and the vices condemned. (2) Many vices and virtues,
such as sensuality, intemperance, malice, and the opposites, produce
_immediate_ consequences of evil and good respectively. (3) The
benefits, immediate or (at least) obvious, flowing from the virtues of
others, kindle love towards them, and thereafter to the virtues they
exhibit. (4) Another consideration is the _loveliness of virtue_,
arising from the suitableness of the virtues to each other, and to the
beauty, order, and perfection of the world. (5) The hopes and fears
connected with a future life, strengthen the feelings connected with
virtue. (6) Meditation upon God and prayer have a like effect. 'All the
pleasures and pains of sensation, imagination, ambition (pride and
vanity), self-interest, sympathy, and theopathy (affection towards
God), as far as they are consistent with one another, with the frame of
our natures, and with the course of the world, beget in us a moral
sense, and lead us to the love and approbation of virtue, and to the
fear, hatred, and abhorrence of vice. This moral sense, therefore,
carries its own authority with it, inasmuch as it is the sum total of
all the rest, and the ultimate result from them; and employs the whole
force and authority of the whole nature of man against any particular
part of it that rebels against the determinations and commands of the
conscience or moral judgment.'
Hartley's analysis of the moral sense is a great advance upon Hobbes
and Mandeville, who make self-love the immediate constituent, instead
of a remote cause, of conscience. Our moral consciousness may thus be
treated as peculiar and distinguishable from other mental states, while
at the same time it is denied to be unique and irresolvable.
THOMAS REID.[24] [1710-96.]
Reid's Ethical views are given in his Essays on the Active Powers of
the Mind.
ESSAY III., entitled THE PRINCIPLES OF ACTION, contains (Part III.) a
disquisition on the _Rational Principles of Action_ as opposed to what
Reid calls respectively _Mechanical_ Principles (Instinct, Habit), and
_Animal_ Principles (Appetites, Desires, Affections).
The Rational Principles of Action are Prudence, or regard to our own
good on the whole, and Duty, which, however, he does not define by the
antithetical circumstance--the 'good of others.' The notion of Duty, he
says, is too simple for logical definition, and can only be explained
by synonymes--_what we ought_ to do; what is fair and honest; what is
approvable; the professed rule of men's conduct; what all men praise;
the laudable in itself, though no man praise it.
Duty, he says, cannot be resolved into Interest. The language of
mankind makes the two distinct. Disregard of our interest is folly; of
honour, baseness. Honour is more than mere reputation, for it keeps us
right when we are not seen. This principle of Honour (so-called by men
of rank) is, in vulgar phrase, honesty, probity, virtue, conscience; in
philosophical language, the moral sense, the moral faculty, rectitude.
The principle is universal in men grown up to years of understanding.
Such a testimony as Hume's may be held decisive on the reality of moral
distinctions. The ancient world recognized it in the leading terms,
_honestum_ and _utile_, &c.
The abstract notion of Duty is a relation between the action and the
agent. It must be voluntary, and within the power of the agent. The
opinion (or intention) of the agent gives the act its moral quality.
As to the Sense of Duty, Reid pronounces at once, without hesitation,
and with very little examination, in favour of an original power or
faculty, in other words, a Moral Sense. Intellectual judgments are
judgments of the external senses; moral judgments result from an
internal moral sense. The external senses give us our intellectual
first principles; the moral sense our moral first principles. He is at
pains to exemplify the deductive process in morals. It is a question of
moral reasoning, Ought a man to have only one wife? The reasons are,
the greater good of the family, and of society in general; but no
reason can be given why we should prefer greater good; it is an
intuition of the moral sense.
He sums up the chapter thus:--'That, by an original power of the mind,
which we call _conscience_, or the _moral faculty_, we have the
conceptions of right and wrong in human conduct, of merit and demerit,
of duty and moral obligation, and our other moral conceptions; and
that, by the same faculty, we perceive some things in human conduct to
be right, and others to be wrong; that the first principles of morals
are the dictates of this faculty; and that we have the same reason to
rely upon those dictates, as upon the determinations of our senses, or
of our other natural faculties.' Hamilton remarks that this theory
virtually founds morality on intelligence.
Moral Approbation is the affection and esteem accompanying our judgment
of a right moral act. This is in all cases pleasurable, but most so,
when the act is our own. So, obversely, for Moral Disapprobation.
Regarding Conscience, Reid remarks, first, that like all other powers
it comes to maturity by insensible degrees, and may be a subject of
culture or education. He takes no note of the difficulty of determining
what is primitive and what is acquired. Secondly, Conscience is
peculiar to man; it is wanting in the brutes. Thirdly, it is evidently
intended to be the director of our conduct; and fourthly, it is an
Active power and an Intellectual power combined.
ESSAY IV. is OF THE LIBERTY OF MORAL AGENTS, which we pass by, having
noticed it elsewhere. ESSAY V. is OF MORALS.
Chapter I. professes to enumerate the axiomatic first principles of
Morals. Some of these relate (A) to virtue in general: as (1) There are
actions deserving of praise, and others deserving blame; (2) the
involuntary is not an object of praise or blame; (3) the unavoidable is
not an object of praise or blame; (4) omission may be culpable; (5) we
ought to inform ourselves as to duty; (6) we should fortify ourselves
against temptation. Other principles relate (B) to particular virtues:
(1) We should prefer a greater good to a less; (2) we should comply
with the intention of nature, apparent in our constitution; (3) no man
is born for himself alone; (4) we should judge according to the rule,
'Do to others,' &c.; (5) if we believe in God, we should venerate and
submit to him. A third class of principles (C) settle the preference
among opposing virtues. Thus, unmerited generosity should yield to
gratitude, and both to justice.
Chapter II. remarks upon the growth and peculiar advantages of Systems
of Morals. Chapter III. is on Systems of Natural Jurisprudence. The
four subsequent chapters of the Essay he states to have been composed
in answer to the Ethical doctrines of Hume.
Chapter IV. enquires whether a moral action must proceed from a moral
purpose in the agent. He decides in the affirmative, replying to
certain objections, and more especially to the allegation of Hume, that
justice is not a natural, but an artificial virtue. This last question
is pursued at great length in Chapter V., and the author takes occasion
to review the theory of Utility or Benevolence, set up by Hume as the
basis of morals. He gives Hume the credit of having made an important
step in advance of the Epicurean, or Selfish, system, by including the
good of others, as well as our own good, in moral acts. Still, he
demands why, if Utility and Virtue are identical, the same name should
not express both. It is true, that virtue is both agreeable and useful
in the highest degree; but that circumstance does not prevent it from
having a quality of its own, not arising from its being useful and
agreeable, but arising from its being virtue. The common good of
society, though a pleasing object to all men, hardly ever enters into
the thoughts of the great majority; and, if a regard to it were the
sole motive of justice, only a select number would ever be possessed of
the virtue. The notion of justice carries inseparably along with it a
notion of moral obligation; and no act can be called an act of justice
unless prompted by the motive of justice.
Then, again, good music and good cookery have the merit of utility, in
procuring what is agreeable both to ourselves and to society, but they
have never been denominated moral virtues; so that, if Hume's system be
true, they have been very unfairly treated.
Reid illustrates his positions against Hume to a length unnecessary to
follow. The objections are exclusively and effectively aimed at the two
unguarded points of the Utility system as propounded by Hume; namely,
first, the not recognizing moral rules as established and enforced
among men by the dictation of authority, which does not leave to
individuals the power of reference to ultimate ends; and, secondly, the
not distinguishing between obligatory, and non-obligatory, useful acts.
Reid continues the controversy, with reference to Justice, in Chapter
VI., on the Nature and Obligation of a Contract; and in Chapter VII.
maintains, in opposition to Hume, that Moral approbation implies a
Judgment of the intellect, and is not a mere feeling, as Hume seems to
think. He allows the propriety of the phrase 'Moral Sentiment,' because
'Sentiment' in English means judgment accompanied with feeling.
[Hamilton dissents, and thinks that sentiment means the higher
feelings.] He says, if a moral judgment be no real judgment, but only a
feeling, morals have no foundation but the arbitrary structure of the
mind; there are no immutable moral distinctions; and no evidence for
the moral character of the Deity.
We shall find the views of Reid substantially adopted, and a little
more closely and concisely argued, by Stewart.
DUGALD STEWART. [1753-1828.]
In his 'Essays on the Active Powers of the Mind,' Stewart introduces
the Moral Faculty in the same way as Reid. BOOK SECOND is entitled OUR
RATIONAL AND GOVERNING PRINCIPLES OF ACTION. Chapter I., on Prudence or
Self-love, is unimportant for our present purpose, consisting of some
desultory remarks on the connexion of happiness with steadiness of
purpose, and on the meanings of the words 'self-love' and
'selfishness.'
Chapter II. is on the Moral Faculty, and is intended to show that it is
an original principle of the mind. He first replies to the theory that
identifies Morality with Prudence, or Self-love. His first argument is
the existence in all languages of different words for _duty_ and for
_interest_. Secondly, The emotions arising from, the contemplation of
right and wrong are different from those produced by a regard to our
own happiness. Thirdly, although in most instances a sense of duty, and
an enlightened regard to our own happiness, would suggest to us the
same line of conduct, yet this truth is not obvious to mankind
generally, who are incapable of appreciating enlarged views and remote
consequences. He repeats the common remark, that we secure our
happiness best by not looking to it as tho one primary end. Fourthly,
moral judgments appear in children, long before they can form the
general notion of happiness. His examples of this position, however,
have exclusive reference to the sentiment of pity, which all moralists
regard as a primitive feeling, while few admit it to be the same as the
moral sense.
He then takes notice of the Association Theory of Hartley, Paley, and
others, which he admits to be a great refinement of the old selfish
system, and an answer to one of his arguments. He maintains,
nevertheless, that the others are untouched by it, and more especially
the third, referring to the amount of experience and reflection
necessary to discover the tendency of virtue to promote our happiness,
which is inconsistent with the early period when our moral judgments
appear. [It is singular that he should not have remarked that the moral
judgments of that early age, if we except what springs from the
impulses of pity, are wholly communicated by others.] He quotes Paley's
reasoning against the Moral Sense, and declares that he has as
completely mis-stated the issue, as if one were to contend that because
we are not born with the knowledge of light and colours, therefore the
sense of seeing is not an original part of the frame. [It would be easy
to retort that all that Paley's case demanded was the same power of
_discrimination_ in moral judgments, as the power of discriminating
light and dark belonging to our sense of sight.]
Chapter III. continues the subject, and examines objections. The first
objection taken up is that derived from the influence of education,
with which he combines the farther objection (of Locke and his
followers) arising from the diversity of men's moral judgments in
various nations. With regard to education, he contends that there are
limits to its influence, and that however it may modify, it cannot
create our judgments of right and wrong, any more than our notions of
beauty and deformity. As to the historical facts relating to the
diversity of moral judgments, he considers it necessary to make full
allowance for three circumstances--I.--Difference of situation with
regard to climate and civilization. II.--Diversity of speculative
opinions, arising from difference of intellectual capacity; and,
III.--The different moral import of the same action under different
systems of behaviour. On the first head he explains the indifference to
theft from there being little or no fixed property; he adduces the
variety of sentiments respecting Usury, as having reference, to
circumstances; and alludes to the differences of men's views as to
political assassination. On the second head he remarks, that men may
agree on _ends_, but may take different views as to means; they may
agree in recognizing obedience to the Deity, but differ in their
interpretations of his will. On the third point, as regards the
different moral import of the same action, he suggests that Locke's
instance of the killing of aged parents is merely the recognized mode
of filial affection; he also quotes the exceeding variety of ceremonial
observances.
Chapter IV. comments farther on the objections to the reality and
immutability of moral distinctions and to the universal diffusion of
the moral faculty. The reference is, in the first instance, to Locke,
and then to what he terms, after Adam Smith, the licentious
moralists--La Rochefoucauld and Mandeville. The replies to these
writers contain nothing special to Stewart.
Chapter V. is the Analysis of our Moral Perceptions and Emotions. This
is a somewhat singular phrase in an author recognizing a separate
inborn faculty of Right. His analysis consists in a separation of the
entire fact into three parts:--the perception of an action as right or
wrong; (2) an emotion of pleasure or pain, varying according to the
moral sensibility: (3) a perception of the merit or demerit of the
agent. The first is of course the main question; and the author gives a
long review of the history of Ethical doctrines from Hobbes downwards,
interspersing reflections and criticisms, all in favour of the
intuitive origin of the sense. As illustrative parallels, he adduces
Personal Identity, Causation, and Equality; all which he considers to
be judgments involving simple ideas, and traceable only to some
primitive power of the mind. He could as easily conceive a rational
being formed to believe the three angles of a triangle to be equal to
one right angle, as to believe that there would be no injustice in
depriving a man of the fruits of his labours.
On the second point--the pleasure and pain accompanying right and
wrong, he remarks on the one-sidedness of systems that treat the sense
of right and wrong as an intellectual judgment purely (Clarke, &c.), or
those that treat it as a feeling purely (Shaftesbury, Hutcheson, and
Hume). His remarks on the sense of Merit and Demerit in the agent are
trivial or commonplace.
Chapter VI. is 'Of Moral Obligation.' It is needless to follow him on
this subject, as his views are substantially a repetition of Butler's
Supremacy of Conscience. At the same time, it may be doubted whether
Butler entirely and unequivocally detached this supremacy from the
command of the Deity, a point peculiarly insisted on by Stewart. His
words are these:--
'According to some systems, moral obligation is founded entirely on our
belief that virtue is enjoined by the command of God. But how; it may
be asked, does this belief impose an obligation? Only one of two
answers can be given. Either that there is a moral fitness that we
should conform our will to that of the Author and the Governor of the
universe; or that a rational self-love should induce us, from motives
of prudence, to study every means of rendering ourselves acceptable to
the Almighty Arbiter of happiness and misery. On the first supposition
We reason in a circle. We resolve our sense of moral obligation into
our sense of religion, and the sense of religion into that of moral
obligation.
'The other system, which makes virtue a mere matter of prudence,
although not so obviously unsatisfactory, leads to consequences which
sufficiently invalidate every argument in its favour. Among others it
leads us to conclude, 1. That the disbelief of a future state absolves
from all moral obligation, excepting in so far as we find virtue to be
conducive to our present interest: 2. That a being independently and
completely happy cannot have any moral perceptions or any moral
attributes.
'But farther, the notions of reward and punishment presuppose the
notions of right and wrong. They are sanctions of virtue, or additional
motives to the practice of it, but they suppose the existence of some
previous obligation.
'In the last place, if moral obligation be constituted by a regard to
our situation in another life, how shall the existence of a future
state be proved, or even rendered probable by the light of nature? or
how shall we discover what conduct is acceptable to the Deity? The
truth is, that the strongest presumption for such a state is deduced
from our natural notions of right and wrong; of merit and demerit; and
from a comparison between, these and the general course of human
affairs.'
In a chapter (VII.) entitled 'certain principles co-operating with our
moral powers,' he discusses (1) a regard to character, (2) Sympathy,
(3) the Sense of the Ridiculous, (4) Taste. The important topic is the
second, Sympathy; which, psychologically, he would appear to regard as
determined by the pleasure that it gives. Under this head he introduces
a criticism of the Ethical theory of Adam Smith; and, adverting to the
inadequacy of the theory to distinguish the _right_ from the _actual_
judgments of mankind, he remarks on Smith's ingenious fiction 'of _an
abstract man_ within the breast;' and states that Smith laid much
greater stress on this fiction in the last edition of the Moral
Sentiments published before his death. It is not without reason that
Stewart warns against grounding theories on metaphorical expressions,
such as this of Smith, or the Platonic Commonwealth of the Soul.
In Book IV. of the Active Powers, Stewart discusses our Duties to
Men,--both our fellow-creatures and ourselves. Our duties to our
fellows are summed up in Benevolence, Justice, and Veracity. He devotes
a chapter to each. In Chapter I., on Benevolence, he re-opens the
consideration of the Ethical systems founded on Benevolence or Utility,
and argues against them; but merely repeats the common-place
objections--the incompetency of individuals to judge of remote
tendencies, the pretext that would be afforded for the worst conduct,
and each one's consciousness that a sense of _duty_ is different from
enlightened benevolence.
Chapter II. is on Justice; defined as the disposition that leads a man,
where his own interests or passions are concerned, to act according to
the judgment he would form of another man's duty in his situation. He
introduces a criticism on Adam Smith, and re-asserts the doctrine of an
innate faculty, explained as the _power of forming_ moral ideas, and
not as the innate possession of ideas. For the most part, his
exposition is didactic and desultory, with occasional discussions of a
critical and scientific nature; as, for example, some remarks on Hume's
theory that Justice is an artificial virtue, an account of the basis of
Jurisprudence, and a few observations on the Right of Property.
In Chapter III., on Veracity, he contends that considerations of
utility do not account for the whole force of our approbation of this
virtue. [So might any one say that considerations of what money can
purchase do not account for the whole strength of avarice].
In Chapter IV. he deals with Duties to ourselves, and occupies the
chapter with a dissertation on Happiness. He first gives an account of
the theories of the Stoics and the Epicureans, which connect themselves
most closely with the problem of Happiness; and next advances some
observations of his own on the subject.
His first remark is on the influence of the Temper, by which he means
the Resentful or Irascible passion, on Happiness. As against a
censorious disposition, he sets up the pleasure of the benevolent
sentiments; he enjoins candour with respect to the motives of others,
and a devoted attachment to truth and virtue for their intrinsic
excellence; and warns us, that the causes that alienate our affections
from our fellow-creatures, suggest gloomy and Hamlet-like conceptions
of the order of the universe.
He next adverts to the influence of the Imagination on Happiness. On
this, he has in view the addition made to our enjoyments or our
sufferings by the respective predominance of hope or of fear in the
mind. Allowing for constitutional bias, he recognizes, as the two great
sources of a desponding imagination, Superstition and Scepticism, whose
evils he descants upon at length. He also dwells on the influence of
casual associations on happiness, and commends this subject to the care
of educators; giving, as an example, the tendency of associations with
Greece and Rome to add to the courage of the classically educated
soldier.
His third position is the Influence of our Opinions on Happiness. He
here quotes, from Ferguson, examples of opinions unfavourable to
Happiness; such as these: 'that happiness consists in having nothing to
do,' 'that anything is preferable to happiness,' 'that anything can
amuse us better than our duties.' He also puts forward as a happy
opinion the Stoical view, 'I am in the station that God has assigned
me.' [It must be confessed, however, that these prescriptions savour of
the Platonic device of inculcating opinions, not because of their
truth, but because of their supposed good consequences otherwise: a
proceeding scarcely compatible with an Ethical system that proclaims
veracity as superior to utility. On such a system, we are prohibited
from looking to anything in an opinion but its truth; we are to suffer
for truth, and not to cultivate opinions because of their happy
results.]
Stewart remarks finally on the influence of the Habits, on which he
notices the power of the mind to accommodate itself to circumstances,
and copies Paley's observations on the _setting_ of the habits.
In continuation of the subject of Happiness, he presents a
classification of our most important pleasures. We give the heads,
there being little to detain us in the author's brief illustration of
them. I.--The pleasures of Activity and Repose; II.--The pleasures of
Sense; III.--The pleasures of the Imagination; IV.--The pleasures of
the Understanding; and V.--The pleasures of the Heart, or of the
various benevolent affections. He would have added Taste, or Fine Art,
but this is confined to a select few.
In a concluding chapter (V.), he sums up the general result of the
Ethical enquiry, under the title, 'the Nature and Essence of Virtue.'
No observation of any novelty occurs in this chapter. Virtue is doing
our duty; the intentions of the agent are to be looked to; the
enlightened discharge of our duty often demands an exercise of the
Reason to adjudge between conflicting claims; there is a close
relationship, not defined, between Ethics and Politics.
The views of Stewart represent, in the chief points, although not in
all, the Ethical theory that has found the greatest number of
supporters.
I.--The Standard is internal, or intuitive--the judgments of a Faculty,
called the Moral Faculty. He does not approve of the phrase 'Moral
Sense,' thinking the analogy of the senses incorrect.
II.--As regards Ethical Psychology, the first question is determined by
the remarks on the Standard.
On the second question, Free-will, Stewart maintains Liberty.
On the third question, he gives, like many others, an uncertain sound.
In his account of Pity, he recognizes three things, (1) a painful
feeling, (2) a selfish desire to remove the cause of the uneasiness,
(3) a disposition grounded on benevolent concern about the sufferer.
This is at best vague. Equally so is what he states respecting the
pleasures of sympathy and benevolence (Book II., Chapter VII.). There
is, he says, a pleasure attached to fellow-feeling, a disposition to
accommodate our minds to others, wherever there is a benevolent
affection; and, in all probability, the pleasure of sympathy is the
pleasure of loving and of being beloved. No definite proposition can be
gathered from such loose allegations.
III.--We have already abstracted his chapter on Happiness.
IV.--On the Moral Code, he has nothing peculiar.
V.--On the connexion with Religion, we have seen that he is strenuous
in his antagonism to the doctrine of the dependence of morality on the
will of God. But, like other moralists of the same class, he is careful
to add:--'Although religion can with no propriety be considered as the
sole foundation of morality, yet when we are convinced that God is
infinitely good, and that he is the friend and protector of virtue,
this belief affords the most powerful inducements to the practice of
every branch of our duty.' He has (Book III.) elaborately discussed the
principles of Natural Religion, but, like Adam Smith, makes no
reference to the Bible, or to Christianity. He is disposed to assume
the benevolence of the Deity, but considers that to affirm it
positively is to go beyond our depth.
THOMAS BROWN. [1778-1820.]
Brown's Ethical discussion commences in the 73rd of his _Lectures_. He
first criticises the multiplicity of expressions used in the statement
of the fundamental question of morals--'What is it that constitutes the
action _virtuous_?' 'What constitutes the _moral obligation_ to perform
certain actions?' 'What constitutes the _merit_ of the agent?'--These
have been considered questions essentially distinct, whereas they are
the very same question. There is at bottom but one emotion in the case,
the emotion of approbation, or of disapprobation, of an agent acting in
a certain way.
In answer then to the question as thus simplified, 'What is the ground
of moral approbation and disapprobation?' Brown answers--a simple
emotion of the mind, of which no farther explanation can be given than
that we are so constituted. Thus, without using the same term, he sides
with the doctrine of the Innate Moral Sense. He illustrates it by
another elementary fact of the mind, involved in the conception of
cause and effect on his theory of that relation--the belief that the
future will resemble the past. Excepting a teleogical reference to the
Supreme Benevolence of the Deity, he admits no farther search into the
nature of the moral sentiment.
He adduces, as another illustration, what he deems the kindred emotion
of Beauty. Our feeling of beauty is not the mere perception of forms
and colours, or the discovery of the uses of certain combinations of
forms; it is an emotion arising from these, indeed, bat distinct from
them. Our feeling of moral excellence, in like manner, is not the mere
perception of different actions, or the discovery of the physical good
that these may produce; it is an emotion _sui generis_, superadded to
them.
He adverts, in a strain of eloquent indignation, to the objection
grounded on differences of men's moral judgment. There are
philosophers, he exclaims, 'that can turn away from the conspiring
chorus of the millions of mankind, in favour of the great truths of
morals, to seek in some savage island, a few indistinct murmurs that
may seem to be discordant with the total harmony of mankind.' He goes
on to remark, however, that in our zeal for the immutability of moral
distinctions, we may weaken the case by contending for too much; and
proposes to consider the species of accordance that may be safely
argued for.
He begins by purging away the realistic notion of Virtue, considered as
a self-existing entity. He defines it--a term expressing the relation
of certain actions to certain emotions in the minds contemplating them;
its universality is merely co-extensive with these minds. He then
concedes that all mankind do not, at every moment, feel precisely the
same emotions in contemplating the same actions, and sets forth the
limitations as follows;--
First, In moments of violent passion, the mind is incapacitated for
perceiving moral differences; we must, in such cases appeal, as it
were, from Philip drunk to Philip sober.
Secondly, Still more important is the limitation arising from the
complexity of many actions. Where good and evil results are so blended
that we cannot easily assign the preponderance, different men may form
different conclusions. Partiality of views may arise from this cause,
not merely in individuals, but in whole nations. The legal permission
of theft in Sparta is a case in point. Theft, as theft, and without
relation to the political object of inuring a warlike people, would
have been condemned in Sparta, as well as with us. [The retort of Locke
is not out of place here; an innate moral sentiment that permits a
fundamental virtue to be set aside on the ground of mere state
convenience, is of very little value.] He then goes on to ask whether
men, in approving these exceptions to morality, approve them because
they are immoral? [The opponents of a moral sense do not contend for an
_immoral_ sense.] Suicide is not commended because it deprives society
of useful members, and gives sorrow to relations and friends; the
exposure of infants is not justified on the plea of adding to human
suffering.
Again, the differences of cookery among nations are much wider than the
differences of moral sentiment; and yet no one denies a fundamental
susceptibility to sweet and bitter. It is not contended that we come
into the world with a knowledge of actions, but that we have certain
susceptibilities of emotion, in consequence of which, it is impossible
for us, in after life, unless from counteracting circumstances, to be
pleased with the contemplation of certain actions, and disgusted with
certain other actions. When the doctrine is thus stated, Paley's
objection, that we should also receive from nature the notions of the
actions themselves, falls to the ground. As well might we require an
instinctive notion of all possible numbers, to bear out our instinctive
sense of proportion.
A third limitation must be added, the influence of the principle of
Association. One way that this operates is to transfer, to a whole
class of actions, the feelings peculiar to certain marked individuals.
Thus, in a civilized country, where property is largely possessed, and
under complicated tenures, we become very sensitive to its violation,
and acquire a proportionably intense sentiment of Justice. Again,
association operates in modifying our approval and disapproval of
actions according to their attendant circumstances; as when we
extenuate misconduct in a beloved person.
The author contends that, notwithstanding these limitations, we still
leave unimpaired the approbation of unmixed good as good, and the
disapprobation of unmixed evil as evil. His further remarks, however,
are mainly eloquent declamation on the universality of moral
distinctions.
He proceeds to criticise the moral systems from Hobbes downwards. His
remarks (Lecture 76) on the province of Reason in Morality, with
reference to the systems of Clarke and Wollaston, contain the gist of
the matter well expressed.
He next considers the theory of Utility. That Utility bears a certain
relation to Virtue is unquestionable. Benevolence means good to others,
and virtue is of course made up, in great part, of this. But then, if
Utility is held to be the _measure_ of virtue, standing in exact
proportion to it, the proposition is very far from true; it is only a
small portion of virtuous actions wherein the measure holds.
He does not doubt that virtuous actions do all tend, in a greater or
less degree, to the advantage of the world. But he considers the
question to be, whether what we have _alone in view_, in approving
certain actions, be the amount of utility that they bring; whether we
have no other reason for commending a man than for praising a chest of
drawers.
Consider this question first from the point of view of the agent. Does
the mother, in watching her sick infant, think of the good of mankind
at that moment? Is the pity called forth by misery a sentiment of the
general good? Look at it again from the point of view of the spectator.
Is his admiration of a steam-engine, and of an heroic human action, the
same sentiment? Why do we not worship the earth, the source of all our
utilities? The ancient worshippers of nature always gave it a soul in
the first instance.
When the supporter of Utility arbitrarily confines his principles to
the actions of living beings, he concedes the point in dispute; he
admits an approvableness peculiar to _living and voluntary agents_, a
capacity of exciting moral emotions not commensurate with any utility.
Hume says, that the sentiments of utility connected with human beings
are mixed with affection, esteem, and approbation, which do not attach
to the utility of inanimate things. Brown replies, that these are the
very sentiments to be accounted for, the moral part of the case.
But another contrast may be made; namely, between the utility of virtue
and the utility of talent or genius, which we view with very different
and unequal sentiments; the inventors of the printing press do not
rouse the same emotions as the charities of the Man of Ross.
Still, he contends, like the other supporters of innate moral
distinctions, for a pre-established harmony between the two attributes.
Utility and virtue are so intimately related, that there is perhaps no
action generally felt by us as virtuous, but what is generally
beneficial. But this is only discovered by reflecting men; it never
enters the mind of the unthinking multitude. Nay, more, it is only the
Divine Being that can fully master this relationship, or so prescribe
our duties that they shall ultimately coincide with the general
happiness.
He allows that the immediate object of the _legislator_ is the general
good; but then his relationship is to the community as a whole, and not
to any particular individual.
He admits, farther, that the good of the world at large, if not the
_only_ moral object, _is_ a moral object, in common with the good of
parents, friends, and others related to us in private life. Farther, it
may be requisite for the moralist to correct our moral sentiments by
requiring greater attention to public, and less to private, good; but
this does not alter the nature of our moral feelings; it merely
presents new objects to our _moral discrimination_. It gives an
exercise to our reason in disentangling the complicated results of our
actions.
He makes it also an objection to Utility, that it does not explain
_why_ we feel approbation of the useful, and disapprobation of the
hurtful; forgetting that Benevolence is an admitted fact of our
constitution, and may fairly be assigned by the moralist as the source
of the moral sentiment.
His next remarks are on the Selfish Systems, his reply to which is the
assertion of disinterested Affections. He distinguishes two modes of
assigning self-interest as the sole motive of virtuous conduct. First,
it may be said that in every so-called virtuous action, we see some
good to self, near or remote. Secondly, it may be maintained that we
become at last disinterested by the associations of our own interest.
He calls in question this alleged process of association. Because a
man's own cane is interesting to him, it does not follow that every
other man's cane is interesting. [He here commits a mistake of fact;
other men's walking canes are interesting to the interested owner of a
cane. It may not follow that this interest is enough to determine
self-sacrifice.]
It will be inferred that Brown contends warmly for the existence of
Disinterested Affection, not merely as a present, but as a primitive,
fact of our constitution. He does not always keep this distinct from
the Moral Sentiment; he, in fact, mixes the two sentiments together in
his language, a thing almost inevitable, but yet inconsistent with the
advocacy of a distinct moral sentiment.
He includes among the Selfish Systems the Ethical Theory of Paley,
which he reprobates in both its leading points--everlasting happiness
as the motive, and the will of God as the rule. On the one point, this
theory is liable to all the objections against a purely selfish system;
and, on the other point, he makes the usual replies to the founding of
morality on the absolute will of the Deity.
Brown next criticises the system of Adam Smith. Admitting that we have
the sympathetic feeling that Smith proceeds upon, he questions its
adequacy to constitute the moral sentiment, on the ground that it is
not a perpetual accompaniment of our actions. There must be a certain
_vividness_ of feeling or of the display of feeling, or at least a
sufficient cause of vivid feeling, to call the sympathy into action. In
the numerous petty actions of life, there is an absence of any marked
sympathy.
But the essential error of Smith's system is, that it assumes the very
moral feelings that it is meant to explain. If there were no antecedent
moral feelings, sympathy could not afford them; it is only a mirror to
reflect what is already in existence. The feelings that we sympathize
with, are themselves moral feelings already; if it were not so, the
reflexion of them from a thousand breasts would not give them a moral
nature.
Brown thinks that Adam Smith was to some extent misled by an ambiguity
in the word sympathy; a word applied not merely to the participation of
other men's feelings, but to the further and distinct fact of the
_approbation_ of those feeling's.
Although siding in the main with Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, Brown
objects to their designation Moral Sense, as expressing the innate
power of moral approbation. If 'Sense' be interpreted merely as
susceptibility, he has nothing to say, but if it mean a primary medium
of perception, like the eye or the ear, he considers it a mistake. It
is, in his view, an _emotion_, like hope, jealousy, or resentment,
rising up on the presentation of a certain class of objects. He farther
objects to the phrase 'moral ideas,' also used by Hutcheson. The moral
emotions are more akin to love and hate, than to perception or
judgment.
Brown gives an exposition of Practical Ethics under the usual heads:
Duties to Others, to God, to Ourselves. Duties to others he classifies
thus:--I.--_Negative_, or abstinence from injuring others in Person,
Property, Affections, Character or Reputation, Knowledge (veracity),
Virtue, and Tranquillity; II. _Positive_, or Benevolence; and
III.--Duties growing out of our _peculiar ties_--Affinity, Friendship,
Good offices received, Contract, and Citizenship.
To sum up
I.--As regards the Standard, Brown contends for an Innate Sentiment.
II.--The Faculty being thus determined, along with the Standard, we
have only to resume his views as to Disinterested action. For a full
account of these, we have to go beyond the strictly Ethical lectures,
to his analysis of the Emotions. Speaking of love, he says that it
includes a desire of doing good to the person loved; that it is
necessarily pleasurable because there must be some quality in the
object that gives pleasure; but it is not the mere pleasure of loving
that makes us love. The qualities are delightful to love, and yet
impossible not to love. He is more explicit when he comes to the
consideration of Pity, recognizing the existence of sympathy, not only
without liking for the object, but with positive dislike. In another
place, he remarks that we desire the happiness of our fellows simply as
human beings. He is opposed to the theory that would trace our
disinterested affections to a selfish origin. He makes some attempt to
refer to the laws of Association, the taking in of other men's
emotions, but thinks that there is a reflex process besides.
Although recognizing in a vague way the existence of genuine
disinterested impulses, he dilates eloquently, and often, on the
deliciousness of benevolence, and of all virtuous feelings and conduct.
WILLIAM PALEY. [1743-1805].
The First Book of Paley's 'Moral and Political Philosophy' is entitled
'PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS' it is in fact an unmethodical account of
various fundamental points of the subject. He begins by defining Moral
Philosophy as '_that science which teaches men their duty, and the
reasons of it_. The ordinary rules are defective and may mislead,
unless aided by a scientific investigation. These ordinary rules are
the Law of Honour, the Law of the Land, and the Scriptures.
He commences with the Law of Honour, which he views in its narrow
sense, as applied to people of rank and fashion. This is of course a
very limited code.
The Law of the Land also must omit many duties, properly compulsory, as
piety, benevolence, &c. It must also leave unpunished many vices, as
luxury, prodigality, partiality. It must confine itself to offences
strictly definable.
The Scriptures lay down general rules, which have to be applied by the
exercise of reason and judgment. Moreover, they pre-suppose the
principles of natural justice, and supply new sanctions and greater
certainty. Accordingly, they do not dispense with a scientific view of
morals.
[The correct arrangement of the common rules would have been (1) the
Law of the Land, (2) the Laws of Society generally, and (3) the
Scriptures. The Law of Honour is merely one application of the
comprehensive agency of society in punishing men, by excommunication,
for what it prohibits.]
Then follows his famous chapter on the MORAL SENSE.
It is by way of giving an effective statement of the point in dispute
that he quotes the anecdote of Caius Toranius, as an extreme instance
of filial ingratitude, and supposes it to be put to the wild boy caught
in the woods of Hanover, with the view of ascertaining whether he would
feel the sentiment of disapprobation as we do. Those that affirm an
innate moral sense, must answer in the affirmative; those that deny it,
in the negative.
He then recites the arguments on both sides.
For the moral sense, it is contended, that we approve examples of
generosity, gratitude, fidelity, &c., on the instant, without
deliberation and without being conscious of any assignable reason; and
that this approbation is uniform and universal, the same sorts of
conduct being approved or disapproved in all ages and countries; which
circumstances point to the operation of an instinct, or a moral sense.
The answers to these allegations are--
First, The _Uniformity_ spoken of is not admitted as a fact. According
to the authentic accounts of historians and travellers, there is
scarcely a single vice that, in some age or country of the world, has
not been countenanced by public opinion. The murder of aged parents,
theft, suicide, promiscuous intercourse of the sexes, and unmentionable
crimes have been tolerated and approved. Among ourselves, Duelling is
viewed with the most opposite sentiments; forgiveness of injuries is
accounted by some people magnanimity, and by others meanness. In these,
and in many other instances, moral approbation follows the fashions and
institutions of the country, which institutions have themselves grown
out of local circumstances, the arbitrary authority of some chieftain,
or the caprice of the multitude.
Secondly, That, although, after allowing for these exceptions, it is
admitted that some sorts of actions are more approved than others, the
approbation being general, although not universal, yet this may be
accounted for, without supposing a moral sense, thus:--
Having experienced a particular line of conduct as beneficial to
ourselves, for example, telling the truth, a sentiment of approbation
grows up in consequence, and this sentiment thereupon arises whenever
the action is mentioned, and without our thinking of the consequences
in each instance. The process is illustrated by the love of money,
which is strongest in the old, who least of all think of applying it to
its uses. By such means, the approval of certain actions is commenced;
and being once commenced, the continuance of the feeling is accounted
for by authority, by imitation, and by all the usages of good society.
As soon as an entire society is possessed of an ethical view, the
initiation of the new members is sure and irresistible. The efficacy of
Imitation is shown in cases where there is no authority or express
training employed, as in the likings and dislikings, or tastes and
antipathies, in mere matters of indifference.
So much in reply to the alleged uniformity. Next come the positive
objections to a Moral Instinct.
In the first place, moral rules are not absolutely and universally
true; they bend to circumstances. Veracity, which is a natural duty, if
there be any such, is dispensed with in case of an enemy, a thief, or a
madman. The obligation of promises is released under certain
circumstances.
In the next place, the Instinct must bear with it the _idea_ of the
actions to be approved or disapproved; but we are not born with any
such ideas.
On the whole, either there exist no moral instincts, or they are
undistinguishable from prejudices and habits, and are not to be trusted
in moral reasonings. Aristotle held it as self-evident that barbarians
are meant to be slaves; so do our modern slave-traders. This instance
is one of many to show that the convenience of the parties has much to
do with the rise of a moral sentiment. And every system built upon
instincts is more likely to find excuses for existing opinions and
practices than to reform either.
Again: supposing these Instincts to exist, what is their authority or
power to punish? Is it the infliction of remorse? That may be borne
with for the pleasures and profits of wickedness. If they are to be
held as indications of the will of God, and therefore as presages of
his intentions, that result may be arrived at by a surer road.
The next preliminary topic is HUMAN HAPPINESS.
Happiness is defined as the excess of pleasure over pain. Pleasures are
to be held as differing only in _continuance_, and in _intensity_. A
computation made in respect of these two properties, confirmed by the
degrees of cheerfulness, tranquillity, and contentment observable among
men, is to decide all questions as to human happiness.
I.--What Human Happiness does not consist in.
Not in the pleasures of Sense, in whatever profusion or variety
enjoyed; in which are included sensual pleasures, active sports, and
Fine Art.
1st, Because they last for a short time. [Surely they are good for the
time they do last.] 2ndly, By repetition, they lose their relish.
[Intermission and variety, however, are to be supposed.] 3rdly, The
eagerness for high and intense delights takes away the relish from all
others.
Paley professes to have observed in the votaries of pleasure a restless
craving for variety, languor under enjoyment, and misery in the want of
it. After all, however, these pleasures have their value, and may be
too much despised as well as too much followed.
Next, happiness does not consist in the exemption from pain (?), from
labour, care, business, and outward evils; such exemption leaving one a
prey to morbid depression, anxiety, and hypochondria. Even a pain in
moderation may be a refreshment, from giving a stimulus to pursuit.
Nor does it consist in greatness, rank, or station. The reason here is
derived, as usual, from the doctrine of Relativity or Comparison,
pushed beyond all just limits. The illustration of the dependence of
the pleasure of superiority on comparison is in Paley's happiest style.
II.--What happiness does consist in. Allowing for the great
difficulties of this vital determination, he proposes to be governed by
a reference to the conditions of life where men appear most cheerful
and contented.
It consists, 1st, In the exercise of the social affections. 2ndly, The
exercise of our faculties, either of body or of mind, in the pursuit of
some engaging end. [This includes the two items of occupation and
plot-interest.] 3rdly, Upon the prudent constitution of the habits; the
prudent constitution being chiefly in moderation and simplicity of
life, or in demanding few stimulants; and 4thly, In Health, whose
importance he values highly, but not too highly.
The consideration of these negative and positive conditions, he thinks,
justifies the two conclusions: (1) That happiness is pretty equally
distributed amongst the different orders of society; and (2) That in
respect of this world's happiness, vice has no advantage over virtue.
The last subject of the First Book is VIRTUE. The definition of virtue
is '_the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and
for the sake of everlasting happiness_.'
If this were strictly interpreted according to its form, it would mean
that three things go to constitute virtue, any one of which being
absent, we should not have virtue. Doing good to mankind alone is not
virtue, unless coupled with a divine requirement; and this addition
would not suffice, without the farther circumstance of everlasting
happiness as the reward. But such is not his meaning, nor is it easy to
fix the meaning. He unites the two conditions--Human Happiness and the
Will of the Deity--and holds them to coincide and to explain one
another. Either of the two would be a sufficient definition of virtue;
and he would add, as an explanatory proposition and a guide to
practice, that the one may be taken as a clue to the other. In a double
criterion like this, everything depends upon the manner of working it.
By running from one of the tests to another at discretion, we may evade
whatever is disagreeable to us in both.
Book II., entitled MORAL OBLIGATION, is the full development of his
views. Reciting various theories of moral right and wrong, he remarks,
first, that they all ultimately coincide; in other words, all the
theorists agree upon the same rules of duty--a remark to be received
with allowances; and next, that they all leave the matter short; none
provide an adequate _motive_ or inducement. [He omits to mention the
theory of the Divine Will, which is partly his own theory].
In proceeding to supply this want, he asks first 'what is meant by
being obliged to do a thing;' and answers, '_a violent motive resulting
from the command of another_.' The motive must be violent, or have some
degree of force to overcome reluctance or opposing tendencies. It must
also result from the _command_ of another; not the mere offer of a
gratuity by way of inducement. Such is the nature of Law; we should not
obey the magistrate, unless rewards or punishments depended on our
obedience; so neither should we, without the same reason, do what is
right, or obey God.
He then resumes the general question, under a concrete case, 'Why am I
obliged to keep my word?' The answer accords with the above
explanation;--Because I am urged to do so by a violent motive (namely,
the rewards and punishments of a future life), resulting from the
command of God. Private happiness is the motive, the will of God the
rule. [Although not brought out in the present connexion, it is implied
that the will of God intends the happiness of mankind, and is to be
interpreted accordingly.]
Previously, when reasoning on the means of human happiness, he declared
it to be an established conclusion, that virtue leads to happiness,
even in this life; now he bases his own theory on the uncertainty of
that conclusion. His words are, 'They who would establish a system of
morality, independent of a future state, must look out for some other
idea of moral obligation, _unless they can show_ that virtue conducts
the possessor to certain happiness in this life, or to a much greater
share of it than he could attain by a different behaviour.' He does not
make the obvious remark that _human_ authority, as far as it goes, is
also a source of obligation; it works by the very same class of means
as the divine authority.
He next proceeds to enquire into the means of determining the WILL OF
GOD. There are two sources--the express declarations of Scripture, when
they are to be had; and the design impressed on the world, in other
words, the light of nature. This last source requires him, on his
system, to establish the Divine Benevolence; and he arrives at the
conclusion that God wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures,
and accordingly, that the method of coming at his will concerning any
action is to enquire into the tendency of that action to promote or to
diminish the general happiness.
He then discusses UTILITY, with a view of answering the objection that
actions may be useful, and yet such as no man will allow to be right.
This leads him to distinguish between the _particular_ and the
_general_ consequences of actions, and to enforce the necessity of
GENERAL RULES. An assassin, by knocking a rich villain on the head, may
do immediate and particular good; but the liberty granted to
individuals to kill whoever they should deem injurious to society,
would render human life unsafe, and induce universal terror. 'Whatever
is expedient is right,' but then it must be expedient on the whole, in
the long run, in all its effects collateral and remote, as well as
immediate and direct. When the _honestum_ is opposed to the _utile_,
the _honestum_ means the general and remote consequences, the _utile_
the particular and the near.
The concluding sections of Book II. are occupied with the consideration
of RIGHT and RIGHTS. A Right is of course correlative with an
Obligation. Rights are Natural or Adventitious; Alienable or
Inalienable; Perfect or Imperfect. The only one of these distinctions
having any Ethical application is Perfect and Imperfect. The Perfect
Rights are, the Imperfect are not, enforced by Law.
Under the 'general Rights of mankind,' he has a discussion as to our
right to the flesh of animals, and contends that it would be difficult
to defend this right by any arguments drawn from the light of nature,
and that it reposes on the text of Genesis ix. 1, 2, 3.
As regards the chief bulk of Paley's-work, it is necessary only to
indicate his scheme of the Duties, and his manner of treating them.
Book III. considers RELATIVE DUTIES. There are three classes of these.
First, Relative Duties that are _Determinate_, meaning all those that
are strictly defined and enforced; those growing out of Promises,
Contracts, Oaths, and Subscriptions to Articles of Religion. Secondly,
Relative Duties that are _Indeterminate_, as Charity, in its various
aspects of treatment of dependents, assistance to the needy, &c.; the
checks on Anger and Revenge; Gratitude, &c. Thirdly, the Relative
Duties growing _out of the Sexes_.
Book IV. is DUTIES TO OURSELVES, and treats of Self-defence,
Drunkenness, and Suicide.
Book V. comprises DUTIES TOWARDS GOD.
Book VI. is occupied with Politics and Political Economy. It discusses
the Origin of Civil Government, the Duty of Submission to Government,
Liberty, the Forms of Government, the British Constitution, the
Administration of Justice, &c.
The Ethical Theory of Paley may be briefly resumed thus:--
I.--The Ethical Standard with him is the conjoined reference to the
Will of the Deity, and to Utility, or Human Happiness. He is unable to
construct a scheme applicable to mankind generally, until they are
first converted to a belief in Revelation.
II.--The Psychology implied in his system involves his most
characteristic features.
1. He is unmistakeable in repudiating Innate Moral Distinctions, and on
this point, and on this only, is he thoroughly at one with the
Utilitarians of the present day.
2. On the Theory of Will he has no remarks. He has an utter distaste
for anything metaphysical.
3. He does not discuss Disinterested Sentiment; by implication, he
denies it. 'Without the expectation of a future existence,' he says,
'all reasoning upon moral questions is vain.' He cannot, of course,
leave out all reference to generosity. Under 'Pecuniary Bounty' he
makes this remark--'They who rank pity amongst the original impulses of
our nature, rightly contend, that when this principle prompts us to the
relief of human misery, it indicates the Divine intention and our duty.
Whether it be an instinct or a habit (?), it is, in fact, a property of
our nature, which God appointed, &c.' This is his first argument for
charity; the second is derived from the original title of mankind,
granted by the Deity, to hold the earth in common; and the third is the
strong injunctions of Scripture on this head. He cannot, it seems,
trust human nature with a single charitable act apart from the
intervention of the Deity.
III.--He has an explicit scheme of Happiness.
IV.--The Substance of his Moral Code is distinguished from, the current
opinions chiefly by his well-known views on Subscription to Articles.
He cannot conceive how, looking to the incurable diversity of human
opinion on all matters short of demonstration, the legislature could
expect the perpetual consent of a body of ten thousand men, not to one
controverted proposition, but to many hundreds.
His inducements to the performance of duty are, as we should expect, a
mixed reference to Public Utility and to Scripture.
In the Indeterminate Duties, where men are urged by moral
considerations, to the exclusion of legal compulsion, he sometimes
appeals directly to our generous sympathies, as well as to
self-interest, but usually ends with the Scripture authority.
V.--The relation of Ethics to Politics is not a prominent feature in
Paley. He makes moral rules repose finally, not upon human, but upon
Divine Law. Hence (VI.) the connexion of his system with Theology is
fundamental.
JEREMY BENTHAM. [1748-1832.]
The Ethical System of Jeremy Bentham is given in his work, entitled 'An
Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation,' first
published in 1789. In a posthumous work, entitled Deontology, his
principles were farther illustrated, chiefly with reference to the
minor morals and amiable virtues.
It is the first-named work that we shall here chiefly notice. In it,
the author has principally in view Legislation; but the same common
basis, Utility, serves, in his judgment, for Ethics, or Morals.
The first chapter, entitled 'THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY,' begins
thus:--'Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign
masters, _pain_ and _pleasure_. It is for them alone to point out what
we ought to do, as well as to determine what we shall do. On the one
hand, the standard of right and wrong; on the other, the chain of
causes and effects, are fastened to their throne. They govern us in all
we do, in all we say, in all we think; every effort we can make to
throw off our subjection will serve but to demonstrate and confirm it.
In words a man may pretend to abjure their empire, but in reality he
will remain subject to it all the while. The _principle of utility_
recognizes this subjection, and assumes it for the foundation of that
system, the object of which is to rear the fabric of felicity by the
hand of reason and of law. Systems which attempt to question it, deal
in sounds instead of sense, in caprice instead of reason, in darkness
instead of light.'
He defines Utility in various phrases, all coming to the same
thing:--the tendency of actions to promote the happiness, and to
prevent the misery, of the party under consideration, which party is
usually the community where one's lot is cast. Of this principle no
proof can be offered; it is the final axiom, on which alone we can
found all arguments of a moral kind. He that attempts to combat it,
usually assumes it, unawares. An opponent is challenged, to say--(1) if
he discards it wholly; (2) if he will act without any principle, or if
there is any other that he would judge by; (3) if that other be really
and distinctly separate from utility; (4) if he is inclined to set up
his own approbation or disapprobation as the rule; and if so, whether
he will force that upon others, or allow each person to do the same;
(5) in the first case, if his principle is not despotical; (6) in the
second case, whether it is not anarchical; (7) supposing him to add the
plea of reflection, let him say if the basis of his reflections
excludes utility; (8) if he means to compound the matter, and take
utility for part; and if so, for what part; (9) why he goes so far,
with Utility, and no farther; (10) on what other principle a meaning
can be attached to the words '_motive_ and _right_.
In Chapter II., Bentham discusses the PRINCIPLES ADVERSE TO UTILITY. He
conceives two opposing grounds. The first mode of opposition is direct
and constant, as exemplified in _Asceticism_. A second mode may be only
occasional, as in what he terms the principle of _Sympathy and
Antipathy_ (Liking and Disliking).
The principle of Asceticism means the approval of an action according
to its tendency to diminish happiness, or obversely. Any one
reprobating in any shape, pleasure as such, is a partisan of this
principle. Asceticism has been adopted, on the one hand, by certain
moralists, from the spur of philosophic pride; and on the other hand,
by certain religionists, under the impulse of fear. It has been much
less admitted into Legislation than into Morals. It may have
originated, in the first instance, with hasty speculators, looking at
the pains attending certain pleasures in the long run, and pushing the
abstinence from such pleasures (justified to a certain length on
prudential grounds) so far as to fall in love with pain.
The other principle, Sympathy and Antipathy, means the unreasoning
approbation or disapprobation of the individual mind, where fancy,
caprice, accidental liking or disliking, may mix with a regard to human
happiness. This is properly the negation of a principle. What we expect
to find in a principle is some _external_ consideration, warranting and
guiding our sentiments of approbation and disapprobation; a basis that
all are agreed upon.
It is under this head that Bentham rapidly surveys and dismisses all
the current theories of Right and Wrong. They consist all of them, he
says, in so many contrivances for avoiding an appeal to any external
standard, and for requiring us to accept the author's sentiment or
opinion as a reason for itself. The dictates of this principle,
however, will often unintentionally coincide with utility; for what
more natural ground of hatred to a practice can there be than its
mischievous tendency? The things that men suffer by, they will be
disposed to hate. Still, it is not constant in its operation; for
people may ascribe the suffering to the wrong cause. The principle is
most liable to err on the side of severity; differences of taste and of
opinion are sufficient grounds for quarrel and resentment. It will err
on the side of lenity, when a mischief is remote and imperceptible.
The author reserves a distinct handling for the Theological principle;
alleging that it falls under one or other of the three foregoing. The
Will of God must mean his will as revealed in the sacred writings,
which, as the labours of divines testify, themselves stand in need of
interpretation. What is meant, in fact, is the _presumptive_ will of
God; that is, what is presumed to be his will on account of its
conformity with another principle. We are pretty sure that what is
right is conformable to his will, but then this requires us first to
know what is right. The usual mode of knowing God's pleasure (he
remarks) is to observe what is our own pleasure, and pronounce that to
be his.
Chapter III.--ON FOUR SANCTIONS OR SOURCES OF PAIN AND PLEASURE whereby
men are stimulated to act right; they are termed, _physical, political,
moral_, and _religious_. These are the Sanctions of Right.
The _physical_ sanction includes the pleasures and pains arising in the
ordinary course of nature, unmodified by the will of any human being,
or of any supernatural being.
The _political_ sanction is what emanates from the sovereign or supreme
ruling power of the state. The punishments of the Law come under this
head.
The _moral_ or _popular_ sanction results from the action of the
community, or of the individuals that each person comes in contact
with, acting without any settled or concerted rule. It corresponds to
public opinion, and extends in its operation beyond the sphere of the
law.
The _religious_ sanction proceeds from the immediate hand of a superior
invisible being, either in the present, or in a future life.
The name Punishment is applicable only to the three last. The suffering
that befalls a man in the course of nature is termed a _calamity_; if
it happen through imprudence on his part, it may be styled a punishment
issuing from the physical sanction.
Chapter IV. is the VALUE OF A LOT OF PLEASURE OR PAIN, HOW TO BE
MEASURED. A pleasure or a pain is determined to be greater or less
according to (1) its _intensity_, (2) its _duration_, (3) its
_certainty_ or _uncertainty_, (4) its _propinquity_ or _remoteness_;
all which are obvious distinctions. To these are to be added (5) its
_fecundity_, or the chance it has of being followed by other sensations
of its own kind; that is pleasures if it be pleasure, pains if it be
pain. Finally (6) its _purity_, or the chance of its being unmixed with
the opposite kind; a pure pleasure has no mixture of pain. All the six
properties apply to the case of an individual person; where a plurality
are concerned, a new item is present, (7) the _extent_, or the number
of persons affected. These properties exhaust the meaning of the terms
expressing good and evil; on the one side, happiness, convenience,
advantage, benefit, emolument, profit, &c.; and, on the other,
unhappiness, inconvenience, disadvantage, loss, mischief, and the like.
Next follows, in Chapter V., a classified enumeration of PLEASURES AND
PAINS. In a system undertaking to base all Moral and Political action
on the production of happiness, such a classification is obviously
required. The author professes to have grounded it on an analysis of
human nature, which analysis itself, however, as being too
metaphysical, he withholds.
The simple pleasures are:--1. The pleasures of sense. 2. The pleasures
of wealth. 3. The pleasures of skill. 4. The pleasures of amity. 5. The
pleasures of a good name. 6. The pleasures of power. 7. The pleasures
of piety. 8. The pleasures of benevolence. 9. The pleasures of
malevolence. 10. The pleasures of memory. 11. The pleasures of
imagination. 12. The pleasures of expectation. 13. The pleasures
dependent on association. 14. The pleasures of relief.
The simple pains are:--1. The pains of privation. 2. The pains of the
senses. 3. The pains of awkwardness. 4. The pains of enmity. 5. The
pains of an ill name. 6. The pains of piety. 7. The pains of
benevolence. 8. The pains of malevolence. 9. The pains of the memory.
10. The pains of the imagination. 11. The pains of expectation. 12. The
pains dependent on association.
We need not quote his detailed subdivision and illustration of these.
At the close, he marks the important difference between
_self-regarding_ and _extra-regarding_; the last being those of
benevolence and of malevolence.
In a long chapter (VI.), he dwells on CIRCUMSTANCES INFLUENCING
SENSIBILITY. They are such as the following:--1. Health. 2. Strength.
3. Hardiness. 4. Bodily imperfection. 5. Quantity and Quality of
knowledge. 6. Strength of intellectual powers. 7. Firmness of mind. 8.
Steadiness of mind. 9. Bent of inclination. 10. Moral sensibility. 11.
Moral biases. 12. Religious Sensibility. 13. Religious biases. 14.
Sympathetic Sensibility. 15. Sympathetic biases. 16. Antipathetic
sensibility. 17. Antipathetic biases. 18. Insanity. 19. Habitual
occupations. 20. Pecuniary circumstances. 21. Connexions in the way of
sympathy. 22. Connexions in the way of antipathy. 23. Radical frame of
body. 24. Radical frame of mind. 25. Sex. 26. Age. 27. Rank. 28.
Education. 29. Climate. 30. Lineage. 31. Government. 32. Religious
profession.
Chapter VII. proceeds to consider HUMAN ACTIONS IN GENERAL. Right and
wrong, good and evil, merit and demerit belong to actions. These have
to be divided and classified with a view to the ends of the moralist
and the legislator. Throughout this, and two other long chapters, he
discusses, as necessary in apportioning punishment, the _act_ itself,
the _circumstances_, the _intention_, and the _consciousness_--or the
knowledge of the tendencies of the act. He introduces many subdivisions
under each head, and makes a number of remarks of importance as regards
penal legislation.
In Chapter X., he regards pleasures and pains in the aspect of MOTIVES.
Since every pleasure and every pain, as a part of their nature, induce
actions, they are often designated with reference to that circumstance.
Hunger, thirst, lust, avarice, curiosity, ambition, &c., are names of
this class. There is not a complete set of such designations; hence the
use of the circumlocutions, _appetite for, love of, desire of_--sweet
odours, sounds, sights, ease, reputation, &c.
Of great importance is the _Order of pre-eminence among motives_. Of
all the varieties of motives, Good-will, or Benevolence, taken in a
general view, is that whose dictates are surest to coincide with
Utility. In this, however, it is taken for granted that the benevolence
is not so confined in its sphere, as to be contradicted by a more
extensive, or enlarged, benevolence.
After good-will, the motive that has the best chance of coinciding with
Utility is Love of Reputation. The coincidence would be perfect, if
men's likings and dislikings were governed exclusively by the principle
of Utility, and not, as they often are, by the hostile principles of
Asceticism, and of Sympathy and Antipathy. Love of reputation is
inferior as a motive to Good-will, in not governing the secret actions.
These last are affected, only as they have a chance of becoming public,
or as men contract a habit of looking to public approbation in all they
do.
The desire of Amity, or of close personal affections, is placed next in
order, as a motive. According as we extend the number of persons whose
amity we desire, this prompting approximates to the love of reputation.
After these three motives, Bentham places the Dictates of Religion,
which, however, are so various in their suggestions, that he can hardly
speak of them in common. Were the Being, who is the object of religion,
universally supposed to be as benevolent as he is supposed to be wise
and powerful, and were the notions of his benevolence as correct as the
notions of his wisdom and power, the dictates of religion would
correspond, in all cases, with Utility. But while men call him
benevolent in words, they seldom mean that he is so in reality. They do
not mean that he is benevolent as man is conceived to be benevolent;
they do not mean that he is benevolent in the only sense that
benevolence has a meaning. The dictates of religion are in all
countries intermixed, more or less, with dictates unconformable to
utility, deduced from texts, well or ill interpreted, of the writings
held for sacred by each sect. These dictates, however, gradually
approach nearer to utility, because the dictates of the moral sanction
do so.
Such are the four Social or Tutelary Motives, the antagonists of the
Dissocial and Self-regarding motives, which include the remainder of
the catalogue.
Chapter XI. is on DISPOSITIONS. A man is said to be of a mischievous
disposition, when he is presumed to be apt to engage rather in actions
of an _apparently_ pernicious tendency, than in such as are apparently
beneficial. The author lays down certain Rules for indicating
Disposition. Thus, 'The strength of the temptation being given, the
mischievousness of the disposition manifested by the enterprise, is as
the apparent mischievousness of the act,' and others to a like effect.
Chapter XII.--OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF A MISCHIEVOUS ACT, is meant as the
concluding link of the whole previous chain of causes and effects. He
defines the shapes that bad consequences may assume. The mischief may
be _primary_, as when sustained by a definite number of individuals; or
_secondary_, by extending over a multitude of unassignable individuals.
The evil in this last case may be either actual pain, or danger, which
is the chance of pain. Thus, a successful robbery affects, primarily, a
number of assignable persons, and secondarily, all persons in a like
situation of risk.
He then proceeds to the theory of PUNISHMENT (XIII., XIV., XV.), to the
classification of OFFENCES (XVI.), and to the Limits of the Penal
Branch of Jurisprudence (XVII.). The two first subjects--Punishments
and Offences--are interesting chiefly in regard to Legislation. They
have also a bearing on Morals; inasmuch as society, in its private
administration of punishments, ought, no less than the Legislator, to
be guided by sound scientific principles.
As respects Punishment, he marks off (1) cases where it is
_groundless_; (2) where it is _inefficacious_, as in Infancy, Insanity,
Intoxication, &c.; (3) cases where it is _unprofitable_; and (4) cases
where it is _needless_. It is under this last herd that he excludes
from punishment the dissemination of what may be deemed pernicious
principles. Punishment is needless here, because the end can be served
by reply and exposure.
The first part of Chapter XVII. is entitled the 'Limits between Private
Ethics and the Art of Legislation;' and a short account of it will
complete the view of the author's Ethical Theory.
Ethics at large, is defined the art of directing men's actions to the
production of the greatest possible quantity of happiness, on the part
of those whose interest is in view, Now, these actions may be a man's
own actions, in which case they are styled the _art of self-government_,
or _private ethics_. Or they may be the actions of other agents, namely,
(1) Other human beings, and (2) Other Animals, whose interests Bentham
considers to have been disgracefully overlooked by jurists as well as
by mankind generally.
In so far as a man's happiness depends on his own conduct, he may be
said to _owe a duty to himself_; the quality manifested in discharge of
this branch of duty (if duty it is to be called) is PRUDENCE. In so far
as he affects by his conduct the interests of those about him, he is
under _a duty to others_. The happiness of others may be consulted in
two ways. First, negatively, by forbearing to diminish it; this is
called PROBITY. Secondly, in a positive way, by studying to increase
it; which is expressed by BENEFICENCE.
But now the question occurs, how is it that under Private Ethics (or
apart from legislation and religion) a man can be tinder a motive to
consult other people's happiness? By what obligations can he be bound
to _probity_ and _beneficence_? A man can have no _adequate_ motives
for consulting any interests but his own. Still there are motives for
making us consult the happiness of others, namely, the purely social
motive of Sympathy or Benevolence, and the semi-social motives of Love
of Amity and Love of Reputation. [He does not say here whether Sympathy
is a motive grounded on the pleasure it brings, or a motive
irrespective of the pleasure; although from other places we may infer
that he inclines to the first view.]
Private Ethics and Legislation can have but the same end, happiness.
Their means, the actions prompted, must be nearly the same. Still they
are different. There is no case where a man ought not to be guided by
his own, or his fellow-creatures', happiness; but there are many cases
where the legislature should not compel a man to perform such actions.
The reason is that the Legislature works solely by Punishment (reward
is seldom applied, and is not properly an act of legislation). Now,
there are cases where the punishment of the political sanction ought
not to be used; and if, in any of these cases, there is a propriety of
using the punishments of private ethics (the moral or social sanction),
this circumstance would indicate the line of division.
First, then, as to the cases where punishment would be _groundless_. In
such cases, neither legislation nor private ethics should interfere.
Secondly. As to cases where it would be _inefficacious_, where
punishment has no deterring motive power,--as in Infancy, Insanity,
overwhelming danger, &c.,--the public and the private sanctions are
also alike excluded.
Thirdly. It is in the cases where Legislative punishment would be
_unprofitable_, that we have the great field of Private Ethics.
Punishment is unprofitable in two ways. First, when the danger of
detection is so small, that nothing but enormous severity, on
detection, would be of avail, as in the illicit commerce of the sexes,
which has generally gone unpunished by law. Secondly, when there is
danger of involving the innocent with the guilty, from inability to
define the crime in precise language. Hence it is that rude behaviour,
treachery, and ingratitude are not punished by law; and that in
countries where the voice of the people controls the hand of the
legislature, there is a great dread of making _defamation_, especially
of the government, an offence at law.
Private Ethics is not liable to the same difficulties as Legislation in
dealing with such offences.
Of the three departments of Moral Duty--Prudence, Probity, and
Beneficence--the one that least requires and admits of being enforced
by legislative punishment is the first--_Prudence_. It can only be
through some defect of the understanding, if people are wanting in duty
to themselves. Now, although a man may know little of himself, is it
certain the legislator knows more? Would it be possible to extirpate
drunkenness or fornication by legal punishment? All that can be done in
this field is to subject the offences, in cases of notoriety, to a
slight censure, so as to cover them with a slight shade of artificial
disrepute, and thus give strength and influence to the moral sanction.
Legislators have, in general, carried their interference too far in
this class of duties; and the mischief has been most conspicuous in
religion. Men, it is supposed, are liable to errors of judgment; and
for these it is the determination of a Being of infinite benevolence to
punish them with an infinity of torments. The legislator, having by his
side men perfectly enlightened, unfettered, and unbiassed, presumes
that he has attained by their means the exact truth; and so, when he
sees his people ready to plunge headlong into an abyss of fire, shall
he not stretch forth his hand to save them?
The second class of duties--the rules of _Probity_, stand most in need
of the assistance of the legislator. There are few cases where it
_would_ be expedient to punish a man for hurting himself, and few where
it _would not_ be expedient to punish a man for hurting his neighbour.
As regards offences against property, private ethics presupposes
legislation, which alone can determine what things are to be regarded
as each man's property. If private ethics takes a different view from
the legislature, it must of course act on its own views.
The third class of duties--_Beneficence_--must be abandoned to the
jurisdiction of private ethics. In many cases the beneficial quality of
an act depends upon the disposition of the agent, or the possession by
him of the extra-regarding motives--sympathy, amity, and reputation;
whereas political action can work only through the self-regarding
motives. In a word these duties must be _free_ or _voluntary_. Still,
the limits of law on this head might be somewhat extended; in
particular, where a man's person is in danger, it might be made the
duty of every one to save him from mischief, no less than to abstain
from bringing it on him.
To resume the Ethics of Bentham. I.--The Standard or End of Morality is
the production of Happiness, or Utility.
Bentham is thus at one in his first principle with Hume and with Paley;
his peculiarity is to make it fruitful in numerous applications both to
legislation and to morals. He carries out the principle with an
unflinching rigour, and a logical force peculiarly his own.
II.--His Psychological Analysis is also studied and thorough-going.
He is the first person to provide a classification of pleasures and
pains, as an indispensable preliminary alike to morals and to
legislation. The ethical applications of these are of less importance
than the legislative; they have a direct and practical bearing upon the
theory of Punishment.
He lays down, as the constituents of the Moral Faculty, Good-will or
Benevolence, the love of Amity, the love of Reputation, and the
dictates of Religion--with a view to the Happiness of others; and
Prudence--with a view to our own happiness. He gives no special account
of the acquired sentiment of Obligation or Authority--the
characteristic of Conscience, as distinguished from other impulses
having a tendency to the good of others or of self. And yet it is the
peculiarity of his system to identify morality with law; so that there
is only one step to connecting conscience with our education under the
different sanctions--legal and ethical.
He would of course give a large place to the Intellect or Reason in
making up the Moral Faculty, seeing that the consequences of actions
have to be estimated or judged; but he would regard this as merely
co-operating with our sensibilities to pleasure and pain.
The Disinterested Sentiment is not regarded by Bentham. as arising from
any disposition to pure self-sacrifice. He recognizes _Pleasures_ of
Benevolence and _Pains_ of Benevolence; thus constituting a purely
interested motive for doing good to others. He describes certain
pleasures of Imagination or Sympathy arising through Association--the
idea of plenty, the idea of the happiness of animals, the idea of
health, the idea of gratitude. Under the head of Circumstances
influencing Sensibility, he adverts to Sympathetic Sensibility, as
being the propensity to derive _pleasure from the happiness, and pain
from the unhappiness, of other sensitive beings_. It cannot but be
admitted, he says, that the only interest that a man at all times, and
on all occasions, is sure to find _adequate_ motives for consulting, is
his own. He has no metaphysics of the Will. He uses the terms _free_
and _voluntary_ only with reference to spontaneous beneficence, as
opposed to the compulsion of the law.
III.--As regards Happiness, or the Summum Bonum, he presents his
scientific classification of Pleasures and Pains, without, however,
indicating any plan of life, for attaining the one and avoiding the
other in the best manner. He makes no distinction among pleasures and
pains excepting what strictly concerns their value as such--intensity,
duration, certainty, and nearness. He makes happiness to mean only the
presence of pleasure and the absence of pain. The renunciation of
pleasure for any other motive than to procure a greater pleasure, or
avoid a greater pain, he, disapprovingly, terms asceticism.
IV.--It being the essence of his system to consider Ethics as a Code of
Laws directed by Utility, and he being himself a law reformer on the
greatest scale, we might expect from him suggestions for the
improvement of Ethics, as well as for Legislation and Jurisprudence.
His inclusion of the interests of the lower animals has been mentioned.
He also contends for the partly legislative and partly ethical
innovation of Freedom of Divorce.
The inducements to morality are the motives assigned as working in its
favour.
V.--The connexions of Ethics with Politics, the points of agreement and
the points of difference of the two departments, are signified with
unprecedented care and precision (Chap. XVII.)
VI.--As regards the connexions with Theology, he gives no uncertain
sound. It is on this point that he stands in marked contrast to Paley,
who also professes Utility as his ethical foundation.
He recognizes religion as furnishing one of the Sanctions of morality,
although often perverted into the enemy of utility. He considers that
the state may regard as offences any acts that tend to diminish or
misapply the influence of religion as a motive to civil obedience.
While Paley makes a conjoined reference to Scripture and to Utility in
ascertaining moral rules, Bentham insists on Utility alone as the final
appeal. He does not doubt that if we had a clear unambiguous statement
of the divine will, we should have a revelation of what is for human
happiness; but he distrusts all interpretations of scripture, unless
they coincide with a perfectly independent scientific investigation of
the consequences of actions.
SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. [1765-1832.]
In the 'Dissertation on the progress of Ethical Philosophy chiefly
during the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,' Mackintosh advocates
a distinct Ethical theory. His views and arguments occur partly in the
course of his criticism of the other moralists, and partly in his
concluding General Remarks (Section VII.).
In Section I., entitled PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS, he remarks on the
universality of the distinction between Right and Wrong. On no subject
do men, in all ages, coincide on so many points as on the general rules
of conduct, and the estimable qualities of character. Even the grossest
deviations may be explained by ignorance of facts, by errors with
respect to the consequences of actions, or by inconsistency with
admitted principles. In tribes where new-born infants are exposed, the
abandonment of parents is condemned; the betrayal and murder of
strangers is condemned by the very rules of faith and humanity,
acknowledged in the case of countrymen.
He complains that, in the enquiry as to the foundation of morals, the
two distinct questions--as to the Standard and the Faculty--have seldom
been fully discriminated. Thus, Paley opposes Utility to a Moral Sense,
not perceiving that the two terms relate to different subjects; and
Bentham repeats the mistake. It is possible to represent Utility as the
_criterion_ of Right, and a Moral Sense as the _faculty_. In another
place, he remarks that the schoolmen failed to draw the distinction.
In Section V., entitled 'Controversies concerning the Moral Faculty and
the Social Affections,' and including the Ethical theories coming
between Hobbes and Butler, namely, Cumberland, Cudworth, Clarke, &c.,
he gives his objections to the scheme that founds moral distinctions
solely on the Reason. Reason, as such, can never be a motive to action;
an argument to dissuade a man from drunkenness must appeal to the pains
of ill-health, poverty, and infamy, that is, to Feelings. The influence
of Reason is indirect; it is merely a channel whereby the objects of
desire are brought into view, so as to operate on the Will.
The abused extension of the term Reason to the moral faculties, he
ascribes to the obvious importance of Reason in choosing the means of
action, as well as in balancing the ends, during which operation the
feelings are suspended, delayed, and poised in a way favourable to our
lasting interests. Hence the antithesis of Reason and Passion.
In remarking upon Leibnitz's view of Disinterested Sentiment, and the
coincidence of Virtue with Happiness, he sketches his own opinion,
which is that although every virtuous _act_ may not lead to the greater
happiness of the agent, yet the _disposition_ to virtuous acts, in its
intrinsic pleasures, far outweighs all the pains of self-sacrifice that
it can ever occasion. 'The whole sagacity and ingenuity of the world
may be fairly challenged to point out a case in which virtuous
dispositions, habits, and feelings are not conducive in the highest
degree to the happiness of the individual; or to maintain that he is
not the happiest, whose moral sentiments and affections are such as to
prevent the possibility of any unlawful advantage being presented to
his mind.'
Section VI. is entitled 'Foundations of a more Just Theory of Ethics,'
and embraces a review of all the Ethical writers, from Butler
downwards. The most palpable defect in Butler's scheme, is that it
affords no answer to the question, 'What is the distinguishing quality
of right actions?' in other words, What is the Standard? There is a
vicious circle in answering that they are commanded by Conscience, for
Conscience itself can be no otherwise defined than as the faculty that
approves and commands right actions. Still, he gives warm commendation
to Butler generally; in connexion with him he takes occasion to give
some farther hints as to his own opinions. Two positions are here
advanced: 1st, The moral sentiments, in their mature state, are a class
of feelings with no other objects than _the dispositions to voluntary
actions_, and _the actions flowing from these dispositions_. We approve
some dispositions and actions, and disapprove others; we desire to
cultivate them, and we aim at them for _something in themselves_. This
position receives light from the doctrine above quoted as to the
supreme happiness of virtuous dispositions. His second position is that
Conscience _is an acquired principle_; which he repeats and unfolds in
subsequent places.
He finds fault with Hume for ascribing Virtue to qualities of the
Understanding, and considers that this is to confound admiration with
moral approbation. Hume's general Ethical doctrine, that Utility is a
uniform ground of moral distinction, he says can never be impugned
until some example be produced of a virtue generally pernicious, or a
vice generally beneficial. But as to the theory of moral approbation,
or the nature of the Faculty, he considers that Hume's doctrine of
Benevolence (or, still better, Sympathy) does not account for our
approbation of temperance and fortitude, nor for the _supremacy_ of the
Moral Faculty over all other motives.
He objects to the theory of Adam Smith, that no allowance is made in it
for the transfer of our feelings, and the disappearing of the original
reference from the view. Granting that our approbation began in
sympathy, as Smith says, certain it is, that the adult man approves
actions and dispositions as right, while he is distinctly aware that no
process of sympathy intervenes between the approval and its object. He
repeats, against Smith, the criticism on Hume, that the sympathies have
no _imperative_ character of supremacy. He further remarks that the
reference, in our actions, to the point of view of the spectator, is
rather an expedient for preserving our impartiality than a fundamental
principle of Ethics. It nearly coincides with the Christian precept of
doing unto others as we would they should do unto us,--an admirable
practical maxim, but, as Leibnitz has said truly, intended only as a
correction of self-partiality. Lastly, he objects to Smith, that his
system renders all morality relative to the pleasure of our coinciding
in feeling with others, which is merely to decide on the Faculty,
without considering the Standard. Smith shrinks from Utility as a
standard, or ascribes its power over our feelings to our sense of the
adaptation of means to ends.
He commends Smith for grounding Benevolence on Sympathy, whereas
Butler, Hutcheson, and Hume had grounded Sympathy on Benevolence.
It is in reviewing Hartley, whose distinction it was to open up the
wide capabilities of the principle of Association, that Mackintosh
develops at greatest length his theory of the derived nature of
Conscience.
Adverting to the usual example of the love of money, he remarks that
the benevolent man might begin with an interested affection, but might
end with a disinterested delight in doing good. Self-love, or the
principle of permanent well-being, is gradually formed from the
separate appetites, and is at last pursued without having them
specially in view. So Sympathy may perhaps be the transfer, first, of
our own personal feelings to other beings, and next, of their feelings
to ourselves, thereby engendering the social affections. It is an
ancient and obstinate error of philosophers to regard these two
principles--Self-love and Sympathy--as the _source_ of the impelling
passions and affections, instead of being the last results of them.
The chief elementary feelings that go to constitute the moral
sentiments appear to be Gratitude, Pity, Resentment, and Shame. To take
the example of Gratitude. Acts of beneficence to ourselves give us
pleasure; we associate this pleasure with the benefactor, so as to
regard him with a feeling of complacency; and when we view other
beneficent beings and acts there is awakened within us our own
agreeable experience. The process is seen in the child, who contracts
towards the nurse or mother all the feelings of complacency arising
from repeated pleasures, and extends these by similarity to other
resembling persons. As soon as complacency takes the form of _action_,
it becomes (according to the author's theory, connecting conscience
with will), a part of the Conscience. So much for the development of
Gratitude. Next as to Pity. The likeness of the outward signs of
emotion makes us transfer to others our own feelings, and thereby
becomes, even more than gratitude, a source of benevolence; being one
of the first motives to impart the benefits connected with affection.
In our sympathy with the sufferer, we cannot but approve the actions
that relieve suffering, and the dispositions that prompt them. We also
enter into his Resentment, or anger towards the causes of pain, and the
actions and dispositions corresponding; and this sympathetic anger is
at length detached from special cases and extended to all wrong-doers;
and is the root of the most indispensable compound of our moral
faculties, the 'Sense of Justice.'
To these internal growths, from Gratitude, Pity, and Resentment, must
be added the education by means of well-framed penal laws, which are
the lasting declaration of the moral indignation of mankind. These laws
may be obeyed as mere compulsory duties; but with the generous
sentiments concurring, men may rise above duty to _virtue_, and may
contract that excellence of nature whence acts of beneficence flow of
their own accord.
He next explains the growth of Remorse, as another element of the Moral
Sense. The abhorrence that we feel for bad actions is extended to the
agent; and, in spite of certain obstacles to its full manifestation,
that abhorrence is prompted when the agent is self.
The theory of derivation is bound to account for the fact, recognized
in the language of mankind, that the Moral Faculty is ONE. The
principle of association would account for the fusion of many different
sentiments into one product, wherein the component parts would cease to
be discerned; but this is not enough. Why do these particular
sentiments and no others coalesce in the total--Conscience. The answer
is what was formerly given with reference to Butler; namely, while all
other feelings relate to outward objects, the feelings brought together
in conscience, contemplate exclusively _the dispositions and actions of
voluntary agents_. Conscience is thus an acquired faculty, but one that
is _universally and necessarily_ acquired.
The derivation is farther exemplified by a comparison with the feelings
of Taste. These may have an original reference to fitness--as in the
beauty of a horse--but they do not attain their proper character until
the consideration of fitness disappears. So far they resemble the moral
faculty. They differ from it, however, in this, that taste ends in
passive contemplation or quiescent delight; conscience looks solely to
the acts and dispositions of voluntary agents. This is the author's
favourite way of expressing what is otherwise called the authority and
supremacy of conscience.
To sum up:--the principal constituents of the moral sense are
Gratitude, Sympathy (or Pity), Resentment, and Shame; the secondary and
auxiliary causes are Education, Imitation, General Opinion, Laws and
Government.
In criticising Paley, he illustrates forcibly the position, that
Religion must pre-suppose morality.
His criticism of Bentham gives him an opportunity of remarking on the
modes of carrying into effect the principle of Utility as the Standard.
He repeats his favourite doctrine of the inherent pleasures of a
virtuous disposition, as the grand circumstance rendering virtue
profitable and vice unprofitable. He even uses the Platonic figure, and
compares vice to mental distemper. It is his complaint against Bentham
and the later supporters of Utility, that they have _misplaced_ the
application of the principle, and have encouraged the too frequent
appeal to calculation in the details of conduct. Hence arise
sophistical evasions of moral rules; men will slide from general to
particular consequences; apply the test of utility to actions and not
to _dispositions_; and, in short, take too much upon themselves in
settling questions of moral right and wrong. [He might have remarked
that the power of perverting the standard to individual interests is
not confined to the followers of Utility.] He introduces the saying
attributed to Andrew Fletcher, 'that he would lose his life to _serve_
his country, but would not do a base thing to _save_ it.'
He farther remarks on the tendency of Bentham and his followers to
treat Ethics too _juridically_. He would probably admit that Ethics is
strictly speaking a code of laws, but draws the line between it and the
juridical code, by the distinction of dispositions and actions. We may
have to approve the author of an injurious action, because it is
well-meant; the law must nevertheless punish it. Herein Ethics has its
alliance with Religion, which looks at the disposition or the heart.