He is disappointed at finding that Dugald Stewart, who made

applications of the law of association and appreciated its powers, held

back from, and discountenanced, the attempt of Hartley to resolve the

Moral Sense, styling it 'an ingenious refinement on the Selfish

system,' and representing those opposed to himself in Ethics as

deriving the affections from 'self-love.' He repeats that the

derivation theory affirms the disinterestedness of human actions as

strongly as Butler himself; while it gets over the objection from the

multiplication of original principles; and ascribes the result to the

operation of a real agent.

In replying to Brown's refusal to accept the derivation of Conscience,

on the ground that the process belongs to a time beyond remembrance, he

affirms it to be a sufficient theory, if the supposed action

_resembles_ what we know to be the operation of the principle where we

have direct experience of it.

His concluding Section, VII., entitled General Remarks, gives some

farther explanations of his characteristic views. He takes up the

principle of Utility, at the point where Brown bogled at it; quoting

Brown's concession, that Utility and virtue are so related, that there

is _perhaps_ no action generally felt to be virtuous that is not

beneficial, and that every case of benefit willingly done excites

approbation. He strikes out Brown's word 'perhaps,' as making the

affirmation either conjectural or useless; and contends that the two

facts,--morality and the general benefit,--being co-extensive, should

be reciprocally tests of each other. He qualifies, as usual, by not

allowing utility to be, on all occasions, the immediate incentive of

actions. He holds, however, that the main doctrine is an essential

corollary from the Divine Benevolence.

He then replies specifically to the question, 'Why is utility not to be

the sole end present to the mind of the virtuous agent?' The answer is

found in the limits of man's faculties. Every man is not always able,

on the spur of the moment, to calculate all the consequences of our

actions. But it is not to be concluded from this, that the calculation

of consequences is impracticable in moral subjects. To calculate the

general tendency of every sort of human action is, he contends, a

possible, easy, and common operation. The general good effects of

temperance, prudence, fortitude, justice, benevolence, gratitude,

veracity, fidelity, domestic and patriotic affections, may be

pronounced with as little error, as the best founded maxims of the

ordinary business of life.

He vindicates the rules of sexual morality on the grounds of

benevolence.

He then discusses the question, (on which he had charged Hume with

mistake), 'Why is approbation confined to voluntary acts?' He thinks it

but a partial solution to say that approbation and disapprobation are

wasted on what is not in the power of the will. The full solution he

considers to be found in the mode of derivation of the moral sentiment;

which, accordingly, he re-discusses at some length. He produces the

analogies of chemistry to show that compounds may be totally different

from their elements. He insists on the fact that a derived pleasure is

not the less a pleasure; it may even survive the primary pleasure.

Self-love (improperly so called) is intelligible if its origin be

referred to Association, but not if it be considered as prior to the

appetites and passions that furnish its materials. And as the pleasure

derived from low objects may be transferred to the most pure, so

Disinterestedness may originate with self, and yet become as entirely

detached from that origin as if the two had never been connected.

He then repeats his doctrine, that these social or disinterested

sentiments prompt the will as the means of their gratification. Hence,

by a farther transfer of association, the voluntary acts share in the

delight felt in the affections that determine them. We then desire to

experience _beneficent volitions_, and to cultivate the dispositions to

these. Such dispositions are at last desired for their own sake; and,

when so desired, constitute the Moral Sense, Conscience, or the Moral

Sentiment, in its consummated form. Thus, by a fourth or fifth stage of

derivation from the original pleasures and pains of our constitution,

we arrive at this highly complex product, called our moral nature.

Nor is this all. We must not look at the side of indignation to the

wrong-doer. We are angry at those who disappoint our wish for the

happiness of others; we make their resentment our own. We hence approve

of the actions and dispositions for punishing such offenders; while we

so far sympathize with the culprit as to disapprove of excess of

punishment. Such moderated anger is the sense of Justice, and is a new

element of Conscience. Of all the virtues, this is the one most

_directly_ aided by a conviction of general interest or utility. All

laws profess it as their end. Hence the importance of good criminal

laws to the moral education of mankind.

Among contributary streams to the moral faculty, he enumerates courage,

energy, and decision, properly directed.

He recognizes 'duties to ourselves,' although condemning the expression

as absurd. Intemperance, improvidence, timidity are morally wrong.

Still, as in other cases, a man is not truly virtuous on such points,

till he loves them for their own sake, and even performs them without

an effort. These prudential qualities having an influence on the will,

resemble in that the other constituents of Conscience. As a final

result, all those sentiments whose object is a state of the will become

intimately and inseparably blended in the unity of Conscience, the

arbiter and judge of human actions, the lawful authority over every

motive to conduct.

In this grand coalition of the public and the private feelings, he sees

a decisive illustration of the reference of moral sentiments to the

Will. He farther recognizes in it a solution of the great problem of

the relation of virtue to private interest. Qualities useful to

ourselves are raised to the rank of virtues; and qualities useful to

others are converted into pleasures. In moral reasonings, we are

enabled to bring home virtuous inducements by the medium of

self-interest; we can assure a man that by cultivating the disposition

towards other men's happiness he gains a source of happiness to

himself.

The question, Why we do not morally approve involuntary actions, is now

answered. Conscience is associated exclusively with the dispositions

and actions of voluntary agents. Conscience and Will are co-extensive.

A difficulty remains. 'If moral approbation involve no perception of

beneficial tendency, how do we make out the coincidence of the two?' It

might seem that the foundation of morals is thus made to rest on a

coincidence that is mysterious and fantastic. According to the author,

the conclusive answer is this. Although Conscience rarely contemplates

anything so distant as the welfare of all sentient beings, yet in

detail it obviously points to the production of happiness. The social

affections all promote happiness. Every one must observe the tendency

of justice to the welfare of society. The angry passions, as ministers

of morality, remove hindrances to human welfare. The private desires

have respect to our own happiness. Every element of conscience has thus

some portion of happiness for its object. All the affections contribute

to the general well-being, although it is not necessary, nor would it

be fit, that the agent should be distracted by the contemplation of

that vast and remote object.

To sum up Mackintosh:--

I.--On the Standard, he pronounces for Utility, with certain

modifications and explanations. The Utility is the remote and final

justification of all actions accounted right, but not the immediate

motive in the mind of the agent. [It may justly be feared, that, by

placing so much stress on the delights attendant on virtuous action, he

gives an opening for the admission of _sentiment_ into the

consideration of Utility.]

II.--In the Psychology of Ethics, he regards the Conscience as a

derived or generated faculty, the result of a series of associations.

He assigns the primary feelings that enter into it, and traces the

different stages of the growth. The distinctive feature of Conscience

is its close relation to the Will.

He does not consider the problem of Liberty and Necessity.

He makes Disinterested Sentiment a secondary or derived feeling--a

stage on the road to Conscience. While maintaining strongly the

disinterested character of the sentiment, he considers that it may be

fully accounted for by derivation from our primitive self-regarding

feelings, and denies, as against Stewart and Brown, that this gives it

a selfish character.

He carries the process of associative growth a step farther, and

maintains that we re-convert disinterestedness into a lofty

delight--the delight in goodness for its own sake; to attain this

characteristic is the highest mark of a virtuous character.

III.---His Summum Bonum, or Theory of Happiness, is contained in his

much iterated doctrine of the deliciousness of virtuous conduct, by

which he proposes to effect the reconciliation of our own good with the

good of others--prudence with virtue. Virtue is 'an inward fountain of

pure delight;' the pleasure of benevolence, 'if it could become lasting

and intense, would convert the heart into a heaven;' they alone are

happy, or truly virtuous, that do not need the motive of a regard to

outward consequences.

His chief Ethical precursor in this vein is Shaftesbury; but he is

easily able to produce from Theologians abundant iterations of it.

IV.--He has no special views as to the Moral Code. With reference to

the inducements to virtue, he thinks he has a powerful lever in the

delights that the virtuous disposition confers on its owner.

V.--His theory of the connexion of Ethics and Politics is stated in his

account of Bentham, whom he charges with making morality too judicial.

VI.--The relations of Morality to Religion are a matter of frequent and

special consideration in Mackintosh.

JAMES MILL. [1783-1836.]

The work of James Mill, entitled the 'Analysis of the Human Mind,' is

distinguished, in the first glace, by the studied precision of its

definitions of all leading terms, giving it a permanent value as a

logical discipline; and in the second place, by the successful carrying

out of the principle of Association in explaining the powers of the

mind. The author endeavours to show that the moral feelings are a

complex product or growth, of which the ultimate constituents are our

pleasurable and painful sensations. We shall present a brief abstract

of the course of his exposition, as given in Chapters XVII.--XXIII. of

the Analysis.

The pleasurable and painful sensations being assumed, it is important

to take notice of their Causes, both immediate and remote, by whose

means they can be secured or avoided. We contract a habit of passing

rapidly from every sensation to its procuring cause; and, as in the

typical case of money, these causes are apt to rank higher in

importance, to take a greater hold on the mind, than the sensations

themselves. The mind is not much interested in attending to the

sensation; that can provide for itself. The mind is deeply interested

in attending to the cause.

The author next (XIX.) considers the Ideas of the pleasurable

sensations, and of the causes of them. The Idea of a pain is not the

same as the pain; it is a complex state, containing, no doubt, an

element of pain; and the name for it is Aversion. So the name for an

idea of pleasure is Desire. Now, these states extend to the causes of

pains and pleasures, though in other respects indifferent; we have an

aversion for a certain drug, but there is in this a transition highly

illustrative of the force of the associating principle; our real

aversion being to a bitter sensation, and not to the visible appearance

of the drug.

Alluding (XX.) to the important difference between past and future time

in our ideas of pleasure and pain, he defines Hope and Fear as the

contemplation of a pleasurable or of a painful sensation, as future,

but not certain.

When the immediate causes of pleasurable and painful sensations are

viewed as past or future, we have a new series of states. In the past,

they are called Love and Hatred, or Aversion; in the future, the idea

of a pleasure, as certain in its arrival, is Joy--as probable, Hope;

the idea of future pain (certain) is not marked otherwise than by the

names Hatred, Aversion, Horror; the idea of the pain as probable is

some form of dread.

The _remote_ causes of our pleasures and pains are more interesting

than the immediate causes. The reason is their wide command. Thus,

Wealth, Power, and Dignity are causes cf a great range of pleasures:

Poverty, Impotence, and Contemptibility, of a wide range of pains. For

one thing, the first are the means of procuring the services of our

fellow-creatures; this fact is of the highest consequence in morals, as

showing how deeply our happiness is entwined with the actions of other

beings. The author illustrates at length the influence of these remote

and comprehensive agencies; and as it is an influence entirely the

result of association, it attests the magnitude of that power of the

mind.

But our fellow-creatures are the subjects of affections, not merely as

the instrumentality set in motion by Wealth, Power, and Dignity, but in

their proper personality. This leads the author to the consideration of

the pleasurable affections of Friendship, Kindness, Family, Country,

Party, Mankind. He resolves them all into associations with our

primitive pleasures. Thus, to take the example of Kindness, which will

show how he deals with the disinterested affection;--The idea of a man

enjoying a train of pleasures, or happiness, is felt by everybody to be

a pleasurable idea; this can arise from nothing but the association of

our own pleasures with the idea of his pleasures. The pleasurable

association composed of the ideas of a man and of his pleasures, and

the painful association composed of the idea of a man and of his pains,

are both Affections included under one name Kindness; although in the

second case it has the more specific name Compassion.

Under the other heads, the author's elucidation is fuller, but his

principle is the same.

He next goes on (XXII.) to MOTIVES. When the idea of a Pleasure is

associated with an action of our own as the cause, that peculiar state

of mind is generated, called a motive. The idea of the pleasure,

without the idea of an action for gaining it, does not amount to a

motive. Every pleasure may become a motive, but every motive does not

end in action, because there may be counter-motives; and the strength

attained by motives depends greatly on education. The facility of being

acted on by motives of a particular kind is a DISPOSITION. We have, in

connexion with all our leading pleasures and pains, names indicating

their motive efficacy. Gluttony is both motive and disposition; so Lust

and Drunkenness; with the added sense of reprobation in all the three.

Friendship is a name for Affection, Motive, and Disposition.

In Chapter XXIII., the author makes the application of his principles

to Ethics. The actions emanating from ourselves, combined with those

emanating from our fellow-creatures, exceed all other Causes of our

Pleasures and Pains. Consequently such actions are objects of intense

affections or regards.

The actions whence advantages accrue are classed under the four titles,

Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, Benevolence. The two first--Prudence and

Fortitude [in fact, Prudence]--express acts useful to ourselves in the

first instance, to others in the second instance. Justice and

Benevolence express acts useful to others in the first instance, to

ourselves in the second instance. We have two sets of association with

all these acts, one set with them as our own, another set with them as

other people's. With Prudence (and Fortitude) as our own acts, we

associate good to ourselves, either in the shape of positive pleasure,

or as warding off pain. Thus Labour is raised to importance by numerous

associations of both classes. Farther, Prudence, involving the

foresight of a train of consequences, requires a large measure of

knowledge of things animate and inanimate. Courage is defined by the

author, incurring the chance of Evil, that is danger, for the sake of a

preponderant good; which, too, stands in need of knowledge. Now, when

the ideas of acts of Prudence and acts of Courage have been associated

sufficiently often with beneficial consequences, they become

pleasurable ideas, or Affections, and they have also, from the nature

of the case, the character of Motives. In short, there is nothing in

prudential conduct that may not be explained by a series of

associations, grounded on our pleasurable and painful sensations, on

the ideas of them, and on the ideas of their causes.

The real difficulty attaches to Justice and to Beneficence.

As to Justice. Men, in society, have found it essential for mutual

benefit, that the powers of Individuals over the general causes of good

should be fixed by certain rules, that is, Laws. Acts done in

accordance with these rules are Just Acts; although, when duly

considered, they are seen to include the main fact of beneficence, the

good of others. To the performance of a certain class of just acts, our

Fellow-creatures annex penalties; these, therefore, are determined

partly by Prudence; others remain to be performed voluntarily, and for

them the motive is Beneficence.

What then is the source of the motives towards Beneficence? How do the

ideas of acts, having the good of our fellows for their end, become

Affections and Motives? In the first place, we have associations of

pleasure with all the pleasurable feelings of fellow-creatures, and

hence, with such acts of ours as yield them pleasure. In the second

place, those are the acts for procuring to ourselves the favourable

Disposition of our Fellow-men, so that we have farther associations of

the pleasures flowing from such favourable dispositions. Thus, by the

union of two sets of influences--two streams of association--the Idea

of our beneficent acts becomes a pleasurable idea, that is, an

Affection, and, being connected with actions of ours, is also a Motive.

Such is the genesis of Beneficent or Disinterested impulses.

We have next a class of associations with other men's performance of

the several virtues. The Prudence and the Fortitude of others are

directly beneficial to them, and indirectly beneficial to us; and with

both these consequences we have necessarily agreeable associations. The

Justice and the Beneficence of other men are so directly beneficial to

the objects of them, that it is impossible for us not to have

pleasurable associations with acts of Justice and Beneficence, first as

concerns ourselves in particular, and next as concerns the acts

generally. Hence, therefore, the rise of Affections and Motives in

favour of these two virtues. As there is nothing so deeply interesting

to me as that the acts of men, regarding myself immediately, should be

acts of Justice and Beneficence, and the acts regarding themselves

immediately, acts of Prudence and Fortitude; it follows that I have an

interest in all such acts of my own as operate to cause those acts in

others. By similar acts of our own, by the manifestation of

dispositions to perform those acts, we obtain their reciprocal

performance by others. There is thus a highly complex, concurring

stimulus to acts of virtue,--a large aggregate of influences of

association, the power at bottom being still our own pleasurable and

painful sensations. We must add the ascription of Praise, an influence

remarkable for its wide propagation and great efficacy over men's

minds, and no less remarkable as a proof of the range of the

associating principle, especially in its character of Fame, which, in

the case of future fame, is a purely ideal or associated delight.

Equally, if not more, striking are the illustrations from Dispraise.

The associations of Disgrace, even when not sufficient to restrain the

performance of acts abhorred by mankind, are able to produce the

horrors of Remorse, the most intense of human sufferings. The love of

praise leads by one step to the love of Praiseworthiness; the dread of

blame, to the dread of Blameworthiness.

Of these various Motives, the most constant in operation, and the most

in use in moral training, are Praise and Blame. It is the sensibility

to Praise and Blame--the joyful feelings associated with the one, and

the dread associated with the other--that gives effect to POPULAR

OPINION, or the POPULAR SANCTION, and, with reference to men generally,

the MORAL SANCTION.

The other motives to virtue, namely, the association of our own acts of

Justice and Beneficence, as cause, with other men's as effects, are

subject to strong counteraction, for we can rarely perform such acts

without sacrifice to ourselves. Still, there is in all men a certain

surplus of motive from this cause, just as there is a surplus from the

association of acts of ours, hostile to other men, with a return of

hostility on their part.

The best names for the aggregate Affection, Motive, and Disposition in

this important region of conduct, are _Moral Approbation_ and

_Disapprobation_. The terms Moral Sense, Sense of Right and Wrong, Love

of Virtue and Hatred of Vice, are not equally appropriate. Virtue and

Morality are other synonyms.

In the work entitled, 'A Fragment on Mackintosh,' there are afforded

farther illustrations of the author's derivation of the Moral

Sentiment, together with an exposition and defence of Utility as the

standard, in which his views are substantially at one with Bentham. Two

or three references will be sufficient.

In the statement of the questions in dispute in Morals, he objects to

the words 'test' and 'criterion,' as expressing the standard. He

considers it a mistake to designate as a 'test' what is the thing

itself; the test of Morality is Morality. Properly, the thing testing

is one thing; the thing tested another thing. The same objection would

apply to the use of the word Standard; so that the only form of the

first question of Ethics would be, What _is_ morality? What does it

consist in? [The remark is just, but somewhat hypercritical. The

illustration from Chemical testing is not true in fact; the test of

gold is some essential attribute of gold, as its weight. And when we

wish to determine as to a certain act, whether it is a moral act, we

compare it with what we deem the essential quality of moral

acts--Utility, our Moral Instinct, &c.--and the operation is not

improperly called testing the act. Since, therefore, whatever we agree

upon as the essence of morality, must be practically used by us as a

test, criterion, or standard, there cannot be much harm in calling this

essential quality the standard, although the designation is to a

certain extent figurative.]

The author has some additional remarks on the derivation of our

Disinterested feelings: he reiterates the position expressed in the

'Analysis,' that although we have feelings directly tending to the good

of others, they are nevertheless the growth of feelings that are rooted

in self. That feelings should be detached from their original root is a

well known phenomenon of the mind.

His illustrations of Utility are a valuable contribution to the defence

of that doctrine. He replies to most of the common objections.

Mackintosh had urged that the reference to Utility would be made a

dangerous pretext for allowing exceptions to common rules. Mill

expounds at length (p. 246) the formation of moral rules, and retorts

that there are rules expressly formed to make exceptions to other

rules, as justice before generosity, charity begins at home, &c.

He animadverts with great severity on Mackintosh's doctrines, as to the

delight of virtue for its own sake, and the special contact of moral

feelings with the will. Allowance being made for the great difference

in the way that the two writers express themselves, they are at one in

maintaining Utility to be the ultimate standard, and in regarding

Conscience as a derived faculty of the mind.

The author's handling of Ethics does not extend beyond the first and

second topics--the STANDARD and the FACULTY. His Standard is Utility.

The Faculty is based on our Pleasures and Pains, with which there are

multiplied associations. Disinterested Sentiment is a real fact, but

has its origin in our own proper pleasures and pains.

Mill considers that the existing moral rules are all based on our

estimate, correct or incorrect, of Utility.

JOHN AUSTIN. [1790-1859.]

Austin, in his Lectures on 'The Province of Jurisprudence determined,'

has discussed the leading questions of Ethics. We give an abstract of

the Ethical part.

LECTURE I. Law, in its largest meaning, and omitting metaphorical

applications, embraces Laws set by God to his creatures, and Laws set

by man to man. Of the laws set by man to man, some are established by

_political_ superiors, or by persons exercising government in nations

or political societies. This is law in the usual sense of the word,

forming the subject of Jurisprudence. The author terms it _Positive

Law_. There is another class of laws not set by political superiors in

that capacity. Yet some of these are properly termed laws, although

others are only so by a close Analogy. There is no name for the laws

proper, but to the others are applied such names as '_moral_ rules,'

'the _moral_ law,' '_general_ or _public opinion_,' 'the law of

_honour_ or of _fashion_.' The author proposes for these laws the name

_positive morality_. The laws now enumerated differ in many important

respects, but agree in this--that all of them are set _by_ intelligent

and rational beings _to_ intelligent and rational beings. There is a

figurative application of the word 'law,' to the uniformities of the

natural world, through which, the field of jurisprudence and morals has

been deluged with muddy speculation.

Laws properly so called are _commands_. A command is the signification

of a desire or wish, accompanied with the power and the purpose to

inflict evil if that desire is not complied with. The person so desired

is _bound_ or _obliged_, or placed under a _duty_, to obey. Refusal is

disobedience, or violation of duty. The evil to be inflicted is called

a _sanction_, or an _enforcement of obedience_; the term _punishment_

expresses one class of sanctions.

The term sanction is improperly applied to a Reward. We cannot say that

an action is _commanded_, or that obedience is _constrained_ or

_enforced_ by the offer of a reward. Again, when a reward is offered, a

_right_ and not an obligation is created: the imperative function

passes to the party receiving the reward. In short, it is only by

conditional _evil_, that duties are _sanctioned_ or _enforced_.

The correct meaning of _superior_ and _inferior_ is determined by

command and obedience.

LECTURE II. The _Divine Laws_ are the known commands of the Deity,

enforced by the evils that we may suffer here or hereafter for breaking

them. Some of these laws are _revealed_, others _unrevealed_. Paley and

others have proved that it was not the purpose of Revelation to

disclose the whole of our duties; the Light of Nature is an additional

source. But how are we to interpret this Light of Nature?

The various hypotheses for resolving this question may be reduced to

two: (1) an Innate Sentiment, called a Moral Sense, Common Sense,

Practical Reason, &c.; and (2) the Theory of Utility.

The author avows his adherence to the theory of Utility, which he

connects with the Divine Benevolence in the manner of Bentham. God

designs the happiness of sentient beings. Some actions forward that

purpose, others frustrate it. The first, God has enjoined; the second,

He has forbidden. Knowing, therefore, the tendency of any action, we

know the Divine command with respect to it.

The tendency of an action is all its consequences near and remote,

certain and probable, direct and collateral. A petty theft, or the

evasion of a trifling tax, may be insignificant, or even good, in the

direct and immediate consequences; but before the full tendency can be

weighed, we must resolve the question:--What would be the probable

effect on the general happiness or good, if _similar_ acts, or

omissions, were general or frequent?

When the theory of Utility is correctly stated, the current objections

are easily refuted. As viewed by the author, Utility is not the

_fountain_ or _source_ of our duties; this must be commands and

sanctions. But it is the _index_ of the will of the law-giver, who is

presumed to have for his chief end the happiness or good of mankind.

The most specious objection to Utility is the supposed necessity of

going through a calculation of the consequences of every act that we

have to perform, an operation often beyond our power, and likely to be

abused to forward our private wishes. To this, the author replies

first, that supposing utility our only index, we must make the best of

it. Of course, if we were endowed with a moral sense, a special organ

for ascertaining our duties, the attempt to displace that invincible

consciousness, and to thrust the principle of utility into the vacant

seat, would be impossible and absurd.

According to the theory of Utility, our conduct would conform to

_rules_ inferred from the tendencies of actions, but would not be

determined by a direct resort to the principle of general utility.

Utility would be the ultimate, not the immediate test. To preface each

act or forbearance by a conjecture and comparison of consequences were

both superfluous and mischievous:--superfluous, inasmuch as the result

is already embodied in a known rule; and mischievous, inasmuch as the

process, if performed on the spur of the occasion, would probably be

faulty.

With the rules are associated _sentiments_, the result of the Divine,

or other, command to obey the rules. It is a gross and flagrant error

to talk of _substituting_ calculation for sentiment; this is to oppose

the rudder to the sail. Sentiment without calculation were capricious;

calculation without sentiment is inert.

There are cases where the _specific_ consequences of an action are so

momentous as to overbear the rule; for example, resistance to a bad

government, which the author calls an _anomalous_ question, to be tried

not by the rule, but by a direct resort to the ultimate or

presiding-principle, and by a separate calculation of good and evil.

Such was the political emergency of the Commonwealth, and the American

revolution. It would have been well, the author thinks, if utility had

been the sole guide in both cases.

There is a second objection to Utility, more perplexing to deal with.

How can we know fully and correctly all the consequences of actions?

The answer is that Ethics, as a science of observation and induction,

has been formed, through a long succession of ages, by many and

separate contributions from many and separate discoverers. Like all

other sciences, it is progressive, although unfortunately, subject to

special drawbacks. The men that have enquired, or affected to enquire,

into Ethics, have rarely been impartial; they have laboured under

prejudices or sinister interests; and have been the advocates of

foregone conclusions. There is not on this subject _a concurrence or

agreement of numerous and impartial enquirers_. Indeed, many of the

legal and moral rules of the most civilized communities arose in the

infancy of the human mind, partly from caprices of the fancy (nearly

omnipotent with barbarians), and partly from an imperfect apprehension

of general utility, the result of a narrow experience. Thus the

diffusion and the advancement of ethical truth encounter great and

peculiar obstacles, only to be removed by a better general education

extended to the mass of the people. It is desirable that the community

should be indoctrinated with sound views of property, and with the

dependence of wealth, upon the true principle of population, discovered

by Malthus, all which they are competent to understand.

The author refers to Paley's Moral Philosophy as an example of the

perverting tendency of narrow and domineering interests in the domain

of ethics. With many commendable points, there is, in that work, much

ignoble truckling to the dominant and influential few, and a deal of

shabby sophistry in defending abuses that the few were interested in

upholding.

As a farther answer to the second objection, he remarks, that it

applies to every theory of ethics that supposes our duties to be set by

the Deity. Christianity itself is defective, considered as a system of

rules for tho guidance of human conduct.

He then turns to the alternative of a Moral Sense. This involves two

assumptions.

First, Certain sentiments, or feelings of approbation or

disapprobation, accompany our conceptions of certain human actions.

These feelings are neither the result of our reflection on the

tendencies of actions, nor the result of education; the sentiments

would follow the conception, although we had neither adverted to the

good or evil tendency of the actions, nor become aware of the opinions

of others regarding them. This theory denies that the sentiments known

to exist can be produced by education. We approve and disapprove of

actions _we know not why_.

The author adapts Paley's supposition of the savage, in order to

express strongly what the moral sense implies. But we will confine

ourselves to his reasonings. Is there, he asks, any evidence of our

being gifted with such feelings? The very putting of such a question

would seem a sufficient proof that we are not so endowed. There ought

to be no more doubt about them, than about hunger or thirst.

It is alleged in their favour that our judgments of rectitude and

depravity are immediate and voluntary. The reply is that sentiments

begotten by association are no less prompt and involuntary than our

instincts. Our response to a money gain, or a money loss, is as prompt

as our compliance with the primitive appetites of the system. We begin

by loving knowledge as a means to ends; but, in time, the end is

inseparably associated with the instrument. So a moral sentiment

dictated by utility, if often exercised, would be rapid and direct in

its operation.

It is farther alleged, as a proof of the innate character of the moral

judgments, that the moral sentiments of all men are precisely alike.

The argument may be put thus:--No opinion or sentiment resulting from

observation and induction is held or felt by all mankind: Observation

and induction, as applied to the same subject, lead different men to

different conclusions. Now, the judgments passed internally on the

rectitude or pravity of actions, or the moral sentiments, are precisely

alike with all men. Therefore, our moral sentiments are not the result

of our inductions of the tendencies of actions; nor were they derived

from others, and impressed by authority and example. Consequently, the

moral sentiments are instinctive, or ultimate and inscrutable facts.

To refute such an argument is superfluous; it is based on a groundless

assertion. The moral sentiments of men have differed to infinity. With

regard to a few classes of actions, the moral judgments of most, though

not of all, men have been alike. With regard to others, they have

differed, through every shade or degree, from slight diversity to

direct opposition.

But this is exactly what we should expect on the principle of utility.

With regard to some actions, the dictates of utility are the same at

all times and places, and are so obvious as hardly to admit of mistake

or doubt. On the other hand, men's positions in different ages and

nations are in many respects widely different; so that what was useful

there and then is useless or pernicious here and now. Moreover, since

human tastes are various, and human reason is fallible, men's moral

sentiments often widely differ in the same positions.

He next alludes to some prevailing misconceptions in regard to utility.

One is the confusion of the _test_ with the _motive_. The general good

is the test, or rather the index to the ultimate measure or test, the

Divine commands; but it is not in all, or even in most cases, the

motive or inducement.

The principle of utility does not demand that we shall always or

habitually attend to the general good; although it does demand that we

shall not pursue our own particular good by means that are inconsistent

with that paramount object. It permits the pursuit of our own pleasures

as pleasure. Even as regards the good of others, it commonly requires

us to be governed by partial, rather than by general benevolence; by

the narrower circle of family and friends rather than by the larger

humanity that embraces mankind. It requires us to act where we act

_with the utmost effect_; that is, within the sphere best known to us.

The limitations to this principle, the adjustment of the selfish to the

social motives, of partial sympathy to general benevolence, belong to

the detail of ethics.

The second misconception of Utility is to confound it with a particular

hypothesis concerning the Origin of Benevolence, commonly styled the

_selfish system_. Hartley and some others having affirmed that

benevolence is not an ultimate fact, but an emanation from self-love,

through the association of ideas, it has been fancied that these

writers dispute the _existence_ of disinterested benevolence or

sympathy. Now, the selfish system, in its literal import, is flatly

inconsistent with obvious facts, but this is not the system contended

for by the writers in question. Still, this distortion has been laid

hold of by the opponents of utility, and maintained to be a necessary

part of that system; hence the supporters of utility are styled

'selfish, sordid, and cold-blooded calculators.' But, as already said,

the theory of utility is not a theory of _motives_; it holds equally

good whether benevolence be what it is called, or merely a provident

regard to self: whether it be a simple fact, or engendered by

association on self-regard. Paley mixed up Utility with self-regarding

_motives_; but his theory of these is miserably shallow and defective,

and amounted to a denial of genuine benevolence or sympathy.

Austin's Fifth LECTURE is devoted to a full elucidation of the meanings

of Law. He had, at the outset, made the distinction between Laws

properly so called, and Laws improperly so called. Of the second class,

some are closely allied to Laws proper, possessing in fact their main

or essential attributes; others are laws only by metaphor. Laws proper,

and those closely allied to them among laws proper, are divisible into

three classes. The first are the _Divine Law_ or Laws. The second is

named _Positive Law_ or Positive Laws; and corresponds with

Legislation. The third he calls _Positive Morality_, or positive moral

rules; it is the same as Morals or Ethics.

Reverting to the definition of Law, he gives the following three

essentials:--1. Every law is a _command_, and emanates from a

_determinate_ source or another. 2. Every sanction is an eventual evil

_annexed to a command_. 3. Every duty supposes a _command_ whereby it

is created. Now, tried by these tests, the laws of God are laws proper;

so are positive laws, by which are meant laws established by monarchs

as supreme political superiors, by subordinate political superiors, and

by subjects, as private persons, in pursuance of legal rights.

But as regards Positive Morality, or moral rules, some have so far the

essentials of an _imperative_ law or rule, that they are rules set by

men to men. But they are not set by men as political superiors, nor by

men as private persons, in pursuance of legal rights; in this respect

they differ from positive laws, they are not clothed with legal

sanctions.

The most important department of positive morality includes _the laws

set or imposed by general opinion_, as for example the laws of honour,

and of fashion. Now these are not laws in the strict meaning of the

word, because the authors are an _indeterminate_ or uncertain aggregate

of persons. Still, they have the closest alliance with Laws proper,

seeing that being armed with a sanction, they impose a duty. The

persons obnoxious to the sanction generally do or forbear the acts

enjoined or forbidden; which is all that can happen under the highest

type of law.

The author then refers to Locke's division of law, which, although

faulty in the analysis, and inaptly expressed, tallies in the main with

what he has laid down.

Of Metaphorical or figurative laws, the most usual is that suggested by

the fact of _uniformity_, which is one of the ordinary consequences of

a law proper. Such are the laws of nature, or the uniformities of

co-existence and succession in natural phenomena.

Another metaphorical extension is to a model or pattern, because a law

presents something as a guide to human conduct. In this sense, a man

may set a law to himself, meaning a plan or model, and not a law in the

proper sense of a command. So a _rule_ of art is devoid of a sanction,

and therefore of the idea of duty.

A confusion of ideas also exists as to the meaning of a sanction.

Bentham styles the evils arising in the course of nature _physical_

sanctions, as if the omission to guard against fire were a sin or an

immorality, punished by the destruction of one's house. But although

this is an evil happening to a rational being, and brought on by a

voluntary act or omission, it is not the result of a law in the proper

sense of the term. What is produced _naturally_, says Locke, is

produced _without the intervention of a law_.

Austin is thus seen to be one of the most strenuous advocates of

Utility as the Standard, and is distinguished for the lucidity of his

exposition, and the force of his replies to the objections made against

it.

He is also the best expounder of the relationship of Morality to Law.

WILLIAM WHEWELL. [1794-1866.]

Dr. Whewell's chief Ethical works are, 'Elements of Morality, including

Polity,' and 'Lectures on the History of Moral Philosophy in England.'

We may refer for his views to either work. The following abstract is

taken from the latest (4th) edition of his Elements (1864).

In the Preface he indicates the general scope of the work. Morality has

its root in the Common Nature of Man; a scheme of Morality must conform

to the _Common Sense_ of mankind, in so far as that is consistent with

itself. Now, this Common Sense of Mankind has in every age led to two

seemingly opposite schemes of Morality, the one making _Virtue_, and

the other making _Pleasure_, the rule of action. On the one side, men

urge the claims of Rectitude, Duty, Conscience, the Moral Faculty; on

the other, they declare Utility, Expediency, Interest, Enjoyment, to be

the proper guides.

Both systems are liable to objections. Against the scheme of Pleasure,

it is urged that we never, in fact, identify virtue as merely useful.

Against the scheme of Virtue, it is maintained that virtue is a matter

of opinion, and that Conscience varies in different ages, countries,

and persons. It is necessary that a scheme of Morality should surmount

both classes of objections; and the author therefore attempts a

reconciliation of the two opposing theories.

He prepares the way by asking, whether there are any actions, or

qualities of actions, universally approved; and whether there are any

moral rules accepted by the Common Sense of mankind as universally

valid? The reply is that there are such, as, for example, the virtues

termed Veracity, Justice, Benevolence. He does not enquire _why_ these

are approved; he accepts the fact of the approval, and considers that

here we have the basis of a Moral System, not liable to either of the

opposing objections above recited.

He supposes, however, that the alleged agreement may be challenged,

_first_, as not existing; and _next_, as insufficient to reason from.

1. It may be maintained that the excellence of the three virtues named

is not universally assented to; departures from them being allowed both

in practice and in theory. The answer is, that the principles may be

admitted, although the interpretation varies. Men allow Fidelity and

Kindness to be virtues, although in an early stage of moral progress

they do not make the application beyond their own friends; it is only

at an advanced stage that they include enemies. The Romans at first

held stranger and enemy to be synonymous; but afterwards they applauded

the sentiment of the poet, _homo sum_, &c. Moral principles must be

what we approve of, when we speak in the name of the whole human

species.

2. It may be said that such principles are too vague and loose to

reason from. A verbal agreement in employing the terms _truthful, just,

humane_, does not prove a real agreement as to the actions; and the

particulars must be held as explaining the generalities.

The author holds this objection to be erroneous; and the scheme of his

work is intended to meet it. He proceeds as follows:--

He allows that we must fix what is meant by _right_, which carries with

it the meaning of Virtue and of Duty. Now, in saying an action is

right, there is this idea conveyed, namely, that we render such a

_reason_ for it, as shall be _paramount_ to all other considerations.

Right must be the _Supreme_ Rule. How then are we to arrive at this

rule?

The supreme rule is the authority over _all_ the faculties and

impulses; and is made up of the partial rules according to the separate

faculties, powers, and impulses. We are to look, in the first instance,

to the several faculties or departments of the mind; for, in connexion

with each of these, we shall find an irresistible propriety inherent in

the very nature of the faculty.

For example, man lives in the society of fellow-men; his actions derive

their meaning from this position. He has the faculty of Speech, whereby

his actions are connected with other men. Now, as man is under a

supreme moral rule, [this the author appears to assume in the very act

of proving it], there must be a rule of right as regards the use of

Speech; which rule can be no other than truth and falsehood. In other

words, veracity is a virtue.

Again, man, as a social being, has to divide with others the possession

of the world, in other words, to possess Property; whence there must be

a rule of Property, that is, each man is to have his own. Whence

Justice is seen to be a virtue.

The author thinks himself at one with the common notions of mankind in

pronouncing that the Faculty of Speech, the Desire of Possessions, and

the Affections, are properly regulated, not by any extraneous purposes

or ends to be served by them, but by Veracity, Justice, and Humanity,

respectively.

He explains his position farther, by professing to follow Butler in the

doctrine that, through the mere contemplation of our human faculties

and springs of action, we can discern certain relations which must

exist among them by the necessity of man's moral being. Butler

maintains that, by merely comparing appetite with conscience as springs

of action, we see conscience is superior and ought to rule; and Whewell

conceives this to be self-evident, and expresses it by stating that

_the Lower parts of our nature are to be governed by the Higher_. Men

being considered as social beings, capable of mutual understanding

through speech, it is self-evident that their rule must include

veracity. In like manner, it is self-evident from the same

consideration of social relationship, that each man should abstain from

violence and anger towards others, that is, _love his fellow men_.

Remarking on the plea of the utilitarian, that truth may be justified

by the intolerable consequences of its habitual violation, he urges

that this is no reason against its being intuitively perceived; just as

the axioms of geometry, although intuitively felt, are confirmed by

showing the incongruities following on their denial. He repeats the

common allegation in favour of _à priori_ principles generally, that no

consideration of evil consequences would give the sense of

_universality_ of obligation attaching to the fundamental moral maxims;

and endeavours to show that his favourite antithesis of _Idea_ and

_Fact_ conciliates the internal essence and the external conditions of

morality. The Idea is invariable and universal; the Fact, or outward

circumstances, may vary historically and geographically. Morality must

in some measure be dependent on Law, but yet there is an Idea of

Justice above law.

It very naturally occurred to many readers of Whewell's scheme, that in

so far as he endeavours to give any reason for the foundations of

morality, he runs in a vicious circle. He proposes to establish his

supreme universal rule, by showing it to be only a summing up of

certain rules swaying the several portions or departments of our

nature--Veracity, Justice, &c., while, in considering the obligation of

these rules, he assumes that man is a moral being, which is another way

of saying that he is to be under a supreme moral rule. In his latest

edition, the author has replied to this charge, but so briefly as to

cast no new light on his position. He only repeats that the Supreme

rule of Human Action is given by the constitution and conditions of

human nature. His ethical principle may be not unfairly expressed by

saying, that he recognizes a certain intrinsic fitness in exercising

the organ of speech according to its social uses, that is, in promoting

a right understanding among men; and so with Justice, as the fitness of

property, and Humanity, as the fitness of the Affections. This fitness

is intuitively felt. Human happiness is admitted to be a consequence of

these rules; but happiness is not a sufficient end in itself; morality

is also an end in itself. Human happiness is not to be conceived or

admitted, except as containing a moral element; in addition to the

direct gratifications of human life, we must include the delight of

virtue. [How men can be compelled to postpone their pleasurable sense

of the good things of life, till they have contracted a delight in

virtue for its own sake, the author does not say. It has been the great

object of moralists in all ages, to impart by _education_ such a state

of mind as to spoil the common gratifications, if they are viciously

procured; the comparatively little success of the endeavour, shows that

nature has done little to favour it.]

The foregoing is an abstract of the Introduction to the 4th Edition of

the Elements of Morality. We shall present the author's views

respecting the other questions of Morality in the form of the usual

summary.

I.--As regards the Standard, enough has been already indicated.

II.--The Psychology of the Moral Faculty is given by Whewell as part of

a classification of our Active Powers, or, as he calls them, Springs of

Action. These are: I.--The _Appetites_ or Bodily Desires, as Hunger and

Thirst, and the desires of whatever things have been found to gratify

the senses. II.--The _Affections_, which are directed to persons; they

fall under the two heads Love and Anger. III.--The _Mental Desires_,

having for their objects certain abstractions. They are the desire of

Safety, including Security and Liberty; the desire of Having, or

Property; the desire of Society in all its forms--Family Society and

Civil Society, under which is included the need of Mutual

Understanding; the desire of Superiority; and the Desire of Knowledge.

IV.--The _Moral Sentiments_. Our judgment of actions as right or wrong

is accompanied by certain Affections or Sentiments, named Approbation

and Disapprobation, Indignation and Esteem; these are the Moral

Sentiments. V.--The _Reflex Sentiments_, namely, the desires of being

Loved, of Esteem or Admiration, of our own Approval; and generally all

springs of action designated by the word _self_--for example,

self-love.

With regard to the Moral Sentiment, or Conscience, in particular, the

author's resolution of Morality into Moral Rules, necessarily supposes

an exercise of the Reason, together with the Affections above

described. He expressly mentions 'the _Practical_ Reason, which guides

us in applying Rules to our actions, and in discerning the consequences

of actions.' He does not allow Individual Conscience as an ultimate or

supreme authority, but requires it to be conformed to the Supreme Moral

Rules, arrived at in the manner above described.

On the subject of Disinterestedness, he maintains a modification of

Paley's selfish theory. He allows that some persons are so far

disinterested as to be capable of benevolence and self-sacrifice,

without any motive of reward or punishment; but 'to require that all

persons should be such, would be not only to require what we certainly

shall not find, but to put the requirements of our Morality in a shape

in which it cannot convince men.' Accordingly, like Paley, he places

the doctrine that 'to promote the happiness of others will lead to our

own happiness,' exclusively on the ground of Religion. He honours the

principle that 'virtue _is_ happiness,' but prefers for mankind

generally the form, 'virtue _is the way_ to happiness.' In short, he

places no reliance on the purely Disinterested impulses of mankind,

although he admits the existence of such.

III.--He discusses the Summum Bonum, or Happiness, only with reference

to his Ethical theory. The attaining of the objects of our desires

yields Enjoyment or Pleasure, which cannot be the supreme end of life,

being distinguished from, and opposed to, Duty. Happiness is Pleasure

and Duty combined and harmonized by Wisdom. 'As moral beings, our

Happiness must be found in our Moral Progress, and in the consequences

of our Moral Progress; we must be happy by being virtuous.'

He complains of the moralists that reduce virtue to Happiness (in the

sense of human pleasure), that they fail to provide a measure of

happiness, or to resolve it into definite elements; and again urges the

impossibility of calculating the whole consequences of an action upon

human happiness.

_IV_.--With respect to the Moral Code, Whewell's arrangement is

interwoven with his derivation of moral rules. He enumerates five

Cardinal Virtues as the substance of morality:--BENEVOLENCE, which

gives expansion to our _Love_; JUSTICE, as prescribing the measure of

our _Mental Desires_; TRUTH, the law of _Speech_ in connexion with its

purpose; PURITY, the control of the _Bodily Appetites_; and ORDER

(obedience to the Laws), which engages the _Reason_ in the

consideration of Rules and Laws for defining Virtue and Vice. Thus the

five leading branches of virtue have a certain parallelism to the five

chief classes of motives--Bodily Appetites, Mental Desires, Love and

its opposite, the need of a Mutual Understanding, and Reason.

As already seen, he considers it possible to derive every one of these

virtues from the consideration of man's situation with reference to

each:--_Benevolence_, or Humanity, from our social relationship;

_Justice_, from the nature of Property; _Truth_, from, the employment

of Language for mutual Understanding; _Purity_, from considering the

lower parts of our nature (the Appetites) as governed by the higher;

and _Order_, from the relation of Governor and Governed. By a

self-evident, intuitive, irresistible consideration of the

circumstances of the case, we are led to these several virtues in the

detail, and their sum is the Supreme Rule of Life.

Not content with these five express moral principles, he considers that

the Supreme Law requires, as adjuncts, two other virtues; to these he

gives the names EARNESTNESS, or Zeal, and MORAL PURPOSE, meaning that

everything whatsoever should be done for _moral ends_.

V.--The relation of Ethics to Politics in Whewell's system is one of

intimacy, and yet of independence. The Laws of States supply the

materials of human action, by defining property, &c., for the time

being; to which definitions morality must correspond. On the other

hand, morality supplies the Idea, or ideal, of Justice, to which the

Laws of Society should progressively conform themselves. The Legislator

and the Jurist must adapt their legislation to the point of view of the

Moralist; and the moralist, while enjoining obedience to their

dictates, should endeavour to correct the inequalities produced by

laws, and should urge the improvement of Law, to make it conformable to

morality. The Moral is in this way contrasted with the _Jural_, a

useful word of the author's coining. He devotes a separate Book,

entitled 'Rights and Obligations,' to the foundations of Jurisprudence.

He makes a five-fold division of Rights, grounded on his classification

of the Springs of Human Action; Rights of _Personal Security, Property,

Contract, Marriage, Government_; and justifies this division as against

others proposed by jurists.

VI.--He introduces the Morality of Religion as a supplement to the

Morality of Reason. The separation of the two, he remarks, 'enables us

to trace the results of the moral guidance of human Reason consistently

and continuously, while we still retain a due sense of the superior

authority of Religion.' As regards the foundations of Natural and

Revealed Religion, he adopts the line of argument most usual with

English Theologians.

JAMES FREDERICK FERRIER. [1808-64.]

In his 'Lectures on Greek Philosophy' (Remains, Vol. I.), Ferrier has

indicated his views on the leading Ethical controversies.

These will appear, if we select his conclusions, on the three following

points:--The Moral Sense, the nature of Sympathy, and the Summum Bonum.

1. He considers that the Sophists first distinctly broached the

question--What is man by nature, and what is he by convention or

fashion?

'This prime question of moral philosophy, as I have called it, is no

easy one to answer, for it is no easy matter to effect the

discrimination out of which the answer must proceed. It is a question,

perhaps, to which no complete, but only an approximate, answer can be

returned. One common mistake is to ascribe more to the natural man than

properly belongs to him, to ascribe to him attributes and endowments

which belong only to the social and artificial man. Some

writers--Hutcheson, for example, and he is followed by many others--are

of opinion that man naturally has a conscience or moral sense which

discriminates between right and wrong, just as he has naturally a sense

of taste, which distinguishes between sweet and bitter, and a sense of

sight, which discriminates between red and blue, or a sentient

organism, which distinguishes between pleasure and pain. That man has

by nature, and from the first, the possibility of attaining to a

conscience is not to be denied. That lie has within him by birthright

something out of which conscience is developed, I firmly believe; and

what this is I shall endeavour by-and-by to show when I come to speak

of Sokrates and his philosophy as opposed to the doctrines of the

Sophists. But that the man is furnished by nature with a conscience

ready-made, just as he is furnished with a ready-made sensational

apparatus, this is a doctrine in which I have no faith, and which I

regard as altogether erroneous. It arises out of the disposition to

attribute more to the natural man than properly belongs to him. The

other error into which inquirers are apt to fall in making a

discrimination between what man is by nature, and what he is by

convention, is the opposite of the one just mentioned. They sometimes

attribute to the natural man less than properly belongs to him. And

this, I think, was the error into which the Sophists were betrayed.

They fall into it inadvertently, and not with any design of embracing

or promulgating erroneous opinions.'

2. With reference to SYMPATHY, he differs from Adam Smith's view, that

it is a native and original affection of the heart, like hunger and

thirst. Mere feeling, he contends, can never take a man out of self.

It is thought that overleaps this boundary; not the _feeling_ of

sensation, but the _thought_ of one's self and one's sensations,

gives the ground and the condition of sympathy. Sympathy has

self-consciousness for its foundation. Very young children have little

sympathy, because in them the idea of self is but feebly developed.

3. In his chapter on the Cynic and Cyrenaic schools, he discusses at

length the summum bonum, or Happiness, and, by implication, the Ethical

end, or Standard. He considers that men have to keep in view _two_

ends; the one the maintenance of their own nature, as rational and

thinking beings; the other their happiness or pleasure. He will not

allow that we are to do right at all hazards, irrespective of utility;

yet he considers that there is something defective in the scheme that

sets aside virtue as the good, and enthrones happiness in its place. He

sums up as follows:--

'We thus see that a complete body of ethics should embrace two codes,

two systems of rules, the one of which we may call the fundamental or

antecedent, or under-ground ethics, as underlying the other; and the

other of which we may call the upper or subsequent, or above-ground

ethics, as resting on, and modified by the former. The under-ground

ethics would inculcate on man the necessity of being what he truly is,

namely, a creature of reason and of thought; in short, the necessity of

being a man, and of preserving to himself this status. Here the end is

virtue, that is, the life and health of the soul, and nothing but this.

The above-ground ethics would inculcate on man the necessity of being a

_happy_ man.

It is not enough for man _to be_; he must, moreover, if possible, _be

happy_. The fundamental ethics look merely to his being, _i.e._, his

being rational; the upper ethics look principally to his being happy,

but they are bound to take care that in all his happiness he does

nothing to violate his rationality, the health and virtue of the soul.'

HENRY LONGUEVILLE/MANSEL.

Mr. Mansel, in his 'Metaphysics,' has examined the question of a moral

standard, and the nature of the moral faculty, accepting, with slight

and unimportant modifications, the current theory of a moral sense.

1. _The Moral Faculty_. That the conceptions of right and wrong are

_sui generis_, is proved (1) by the fact that in all languages there

are distinct terms for 'right' and 'agreeable;' (2) by the testimony of

consciousness; and (3) by the mutual inconsistencies of the antagonists

of a moral sense. The moral faculty is not identical with Reason; for

the understanding contributes to truth only one of its elements,

namely, the concept; in addition, the concept must agree with the fact

as presented in intuition. The moral sense is usually supposed to

involve the perception of qualities only in so far as they are

_pleasing_ or _displeasing_. To this representation Mr. Mansel objects.

In an act of moral consciousness two things are involved: a perception

or judgment, and a sentiment or feeling. But the judgment itself may be

farther divided into two parts: 'the one, an individual fact, presented

now and here; the other, a general law, valid always and everywhere.'

This is the distinction between _presentative_ and _representative_

Knowledge. In every act of consciousness there is some individual fact

presented, and an operation of the understanding. 'A conscious act of

pure moral sense, like a conscious act of pure physical sense, if it

ever takes place at all, takes place at a time of which we have no

remembrance, and of which we can give no account.' The intuitive

element may be called _conscience_; the representing element is the

_understanding_. On another point he differs from the ordinary theory.

It is commonly said that we immediately perceive the moral character of

acts, whether by ourselves or by others. But this would implicate two

facts, neither of which we can be conscious of: (1) a law binding on a

certain person, and (2) his conduct as agreeing or disagreeing with

that law. Now, I can infer the existence of such a law only by

_representing_ his mind as constituted like my own. We can, in fact,

immediately perceive moral qualities only in our own actions.

2. _The Moral Standard_. This is treated as a branch of Ontology, and

designated the 'Real in morality,' He declares that Kant's notion of an

absolute moral law, binding by its inherent power over the mind, is a

mere fiction. The difference between inclination and the moral

imperative is merely a difference between lower and higher pleasure.

The moral law can have no authority unless imposed by a superior, as a

law emanating from a lawgiver. If man is not accountable to some higher

being, there is no distinction between duty and pleasure. The standard

of right and wrong is the moral _nature_ (not the arbitrary _will_) of

God.[25] Now, as we cannot know God--an infinite being,--so we have but

a relative conception of morality. We may have lower and higher ideas

of duty. Morality therefore admits of progress. But no advance in

morality contradicts the _principles_ previously acknowledged, however

it may vary the acts whereby those principles are carried out. And each

advance takes its place in the mind, not as a question to be supported

by argument, but as an axiom to be intuitively admitted. Each principle

appears true and irreversible so far as it goes, but it is liable to be

merged in a more comprehensive formula. It is an error of philosophers

to imagine that they have an absolute standard of morals, and thereupon

to set out _à priori_ the criterion of a possibly true revelation. Kant

said that the revealed commands of God could have no religious value,

unless approved by the moral reason; and Fichte held that no true

revelation could contain any intimation of future rewards and

punishments, or any moral rule not deducible from the principles of the

practical reason. But revelation has enlightened the practical reason,

as by the maxim--to love God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as

thyself--a maxim, says Mr. Mansel, that philosophy in vain toiled

after, and subsequently borrowed without acknowledgment.

JOHN STUART MILL.

Mr. J.S. Mill examines the basis of Ethics in a small work entitled

Utilitarianism.

After a chapter of General Remarks, he proposes (Chapter II.) to

enquire, What Utilitarianism is? This creed holds that actions are

right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they

tend to produce the reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended

pleasure, and the absence of pain; by unhappiness, pain, and the

privation of pleasure. The things included under pleasure and pain may

require farther explanation; but this does not affect the general

theory. To the accusation that pleasure is a mean and grovelling object

of pursuit, the answer is, that human beings are capable of pleasures

that are not grovelling. It is compatible with utility to recognize

some _kinds_ of pleasure as more valuable than others. There are

pleasures that, irrespective of amount, are held by all persons that

have experienced them to be preferable to others. Few human beings

would consent to become beasts, or fools, or base, in consideration of

a greater allowance of pleasure. Inseparable from the estimate of

pleasure is a _sense of dignity_, which determines a preference among

enjoyments.

But this distinction in kind is not essential to the justification of

the standard of Utility. That standard is not the agent's own greatest

happiness, but the greatest amount of happiness altogether. However

little the higher virtues might contribute to one's own happiness,

there can be no doubt that the world in general gains by them.

Another objection to the doctrine is, that happiness is a thing

unattainable, and that no one has a _right_ to it. Not only can men do

without happiness, but renunciation is the first condition of all

nobleness of character.

In reply, the author remarks that, supposing happiness impossible, the

prevention of unhappiness might still be an object, which is a mode of

Utility. But the alleged impossibility of happiness is either a verbal

quibble or an exaggeration. No one contends for a life of sustained

rapture; occasional moments of such, in an existence of few and

transitory pains, many and various pleasures, with a predominance of

the active over the passive, and moderate expectations on the whole,

constitute a life worthy to be called happiness. Numbers of mankind

have been satisfied with much less. There are two great factors of

enjoyment--tranquillity and excitement. With the one, little pleasure

will suffice; with the other, considerable pain can be endured. It does

not appear impossible to secure both in alternation. The principal

defect in persons of fortunate lot is to care for nobody but

themselves; this curtails the excitements of life, and makes everything

dwindle as the end approaches. Another circumstance rendering life

unsatisfactory is the want of mental cultivation, by which men are

deprived of the inexhaustible pleasures of knowledge, not merely in the

shape of science, but as practice and fine art. It is not at all

difficult to indicate sources of happiness; the main stress of the

problem lies in the contest with the positive evils of life, the great

sources of physical and of mental suffering--indigence, disease, and

the unkindness, worthlessness, or premature loss of objects of

affection. Poverty and Disease may be contracted in dimensions; and

even vicissitudes of fortune are not wholly beyond control.

It is unquestionably possible to do without happiness. This is the lot

of the greater part of mankind, and is often voluntarily chosen by the

hero or the martyr. But self-sacrifice is not its own end; it must be

made to earn for others immunity from sacrifice. It must be a very

imperfect state of the world's arrangements that requires any one to

serve the happiness of others by the absolute sacrifice of their own;

yet undoubtedly while the world is in that imperfect state, the

readiness to make such a sacrifice is the highest virtue that can be

found in man. Nay, farther, the conscious ability to do without

happiness, in such a condition of the world, is the best prospect of

realizing such happiness as is attainable. Meanwhile, self-devotion

belongs as much to the Utilitarian as to the Stoic or the

Transcendentalist; with the reservation that a sacrifice not tending to

increase the sum of happiness is to be held as wasted. The golden rule,

do as you would be done by, is the ideal perfection of utilitarian

morality. The means of approaching this ideal are, first, that laws and

society should endeavour to place the interest of the individual in

harmony with the interest of the whole; and, secondly, that education

and opinion should establish in the mind of each individual an

indissoluble association between his own good and the good of the

whole.

The system of Utility is objected to, on another side, as being too

high for humanity; men cannot be perpetually acting with a view to the

general interests of society. But this is to mistake the meaning of a

standard, and to confound the rule of action with the motive. Ethics

tells us what are our duties, or by what test we are to know them; but

no system of ethics requires that the motive of every action should be

a feeling of duty; our actions are rightly done provided only duty does

not condemn them. The great majority of actions have nothing to do with

the good of the world--they end with the individual; it happens to few

persons, and that rarely, to be public benefactors. Private utility is

in the mass of cases all that we have to attend to. As regards

abstinences, indeed, it would be unworthy of an intelligent agent not

to be aware that the action is one that, if practised generally, would

be generally injurious, and to not feel a sense of obligation on that

ground; but such an amount of regard for the general interest is

required under every system of morals.

It is farther alleged against Utility, that it renders men cold and

unsympathizing, chills the moral feelings towards individuals, and

regards only the dry consequences of actions, without reference to the

moral qualities of the agent. The author replies that Utility, like any

other system, admits that a right action does not necessarily indicate

a virtuous character. Still, he contends, in the long run, the best

proof of a good character is good actions. If the objection means that

utilitarians do not lay sufficient stress on the beauties of character,

he replies that this is the accident of persons cultivating their moral

feelings more than their sympathies and artistic perceptions, and may

occur under every view of the foundation of morals.

The next objection considered is that Utility is a _godless_ doctrine.

The answer is, that whoever believes in the perfect goodness and wisdom

of God, necessarily believes that whatever he has thought fit to reveal

on the subject of morals must fulfil the requirements of utility in a

supreme degree.

Again, Utility is stigmatized as an immoral doctrine, by carrying out

Expediency in opposition to Principle. But the Expedient in this sense

means what is expedient for the agent himself, and, instead of being

the same thing with the useful, is a branch of the hurtful. It would

often be expedient to tell a lie, but so momentous and so widely

extended are the utilities of truth, that veracity is a rule of

transcendent expediency. Yet all moralists admit exceptions to it,

solely on account of the manifest inexpediency of observing it on

certain occasions.

The author does not omit to notice the usual charge that it is

impossible to make a calculation of consequences previous to every

action, which is as much as to say that no one can be under the

guidance of Christianity, because there is not time, on the occasion of

doing anything, to read through the Old and New Testaments. The real

answer is (substantially the same as Austin's) that there has been

ample time during the past duration of the species. Mankind have all

that time been learning by experience the consequences of actions; on

that experience they have founded both their prudence and their

morality. It is an inference from the principle of utility, which

regards morals as a practical art, that moral rules are improvable; but

there exists under the ultimate principle a number of intermediate

generalizations, applicable at once to the emergencies of human

conduct. Nobody argues that navigation is not founded on astronomy,

because sailors cannot wait to calculate the Nautical Almanack.

As to the stock argument, that people will pervert utility for their

private ends, Mr. Mill challenges the production of any ethical creed

where this may not happen. The fault is due, not to the origin of the

rules, but to the complicated nature of human affairs, and the

necessity of allowing a certain latitude, under the moral

responsibility of the agent, for accommodation to circumstances. And in

cases of conflict, utility is a better guide than anything found in

systems whose moral laws claim independent authority.

Chapter III. considers the ULTIMATE SANCTION OF THE PRINCIPLE OF

UTILITY.

It is a proper question with regard to a supposed moral standard,--What

is its sanction? what is the source of its obligation? wherein lies its

binding force? The customary morality is consecrated by education and

opinion, and seems to be obligatory _in itself_; but to present, as the

source of obligation, some general principle, not surrounded by the

halo of consecration, seems a paradox; the superstructure seems to

stand better without such a foundation. This difficulty belongs to

every attempt to reduce morality to first principles, unless it should

happen that the principle chosen has as much sacredness as any of its

applications.

Utility has, or might have, all the sanctions attaching to any other

system of morals. Those sanctions are either External or Internal. The

External are the hope of favour and the fear of displeasure (1) from

our fellow-creatures, or (2) from the Ruler of the Universe, along with

any sympathy or affection for them, or love and awe of Him, inclining

us apart from selfish motives. There is no reason why these motives

should not attach themselves to utilitarian morality.

The Internal Sanction, under every standard of duty, is of one uniform

character--a feeling in our own mind; a pain, more or less intense,

attendant on violation of duty, which in properly cultivated moral

natures rises, in the more serious cases, into shrinking from it as an

impossibility. This feeling, when disinterested, and connecting itself

with the pure idea of duty, is _the essence of Conscience_; a complex

phenomenon, involving associations from sympathy, from love, and still

more from fear; from the recollections of childhood, and of all our

past life; from self-esteem, desire of the esteem of others, and

occasionally even self-abasement. This extreme complication is an

obstacle to our supposing that it can attach to other objects than what

are found at present to excite it. The binding force, however, is _the

mass of feeling to be broken through_ in order to violate our standard

of right, and which, if we do violate that standard, will have to be

afterwards encountered as remorse.

Thus, apart from external sanctions, the ultimate sanction, under

Utility, is the same as for other standards, namely, the conscientious

feelings of mankind. If there be anything innate in conscience, there

is nothing more likely than that it should be a regard to the pleasures

and pains of others. If so, the intuitive ethics would be the same as

the utilitarian; and it is admitted on all hands that a _large_

portion of morality turns upon what is due to the interests of

fellow-creatures.

On the other hand, if, as the author believes, the moral feelings are

not innate, they are not for that reason less natural. It is natural to

man to speak, to reason, to cultivate the ground, to build cities,

though these are acquired faculties. So the moral faculty, if not a

part of our nature, is a natural outgrowth of it; capable, in a certain

small degree, of springing up spontaneously, and of being brought to a

high pitch by means of cultivation. It is also susceptible, by the use

of the external sanctions and the force of early impressions, of being

cultivated in almost any direction, and of being perverted to absurdity

and mischief.

The basis of natural sentiment capable of supporting the utilitarian

morality is to be found in the _social feelings of mankind_. The social

state is so natural, so necessary, and so habitual to man, that he can

hardly conceive himself otherwise than as a member of society; and as

civilization advances, this association becomes more firmly riveted.

All strengthening of social ties, and all healthy growth of society,

give to each individual a stronger personal interest in consulting the

welfare of others. Each comes, as though instinctively, to be conscious

of himself as a being that _of course_ pays regard to others. There is

the strongest motive in each person to manifest this sentiment, and,

even if he should not feel it strongly himself, to cherish it in

everybody else. The smallest germs of the feeling are thus laid hold

of, and nourished by the contagion of sympathy and the influences of

education; and by the powerful agency of the external sanctions there

is woven around it a complete web of corroborative association. In an

improving state of society, the influences are on the increase that

generate in each individual a feeling of unity with all the rest;

which, if perfect, would make him never think of anything for self, if

they also were not included. Suppose, now, that this feeling of unity

were taught as a religion, and that the whole force of education, of

institutions, and of opinion, were directed to make every person grow

up surrounded with the profession and the practice of it; can there be

any doubt as to the sufficiency of the ultimate sanction for the

Happiness morality?

Even in our present low state of advancement, the deeply-rooted

conception that each individual has of himself as a social being tends

to make him wish to be in harmony with his fellow-creatures. The

feeling may be, in most persons, inferior in strength to the selfish

feelings, and may be altogether wanting; but to such as possess it, it

has all the characters of a natural feeling, and one that they would

not desire to be without.

Chapter IV. is OF WHAT SORT OF PROOF THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY is

susceptible. Questions about ends are questions as to what things are

desirable. According to the theory of Utility, happiness is desirable

as an end; all other things are desirable as means. What is the proof

of this doctrine?

As the proof, that the sun is visible, is that people actually see it,

so the proof that happiness is desirable, is that people do actually

desire it. No reason can be given why the general happiness is

desirable, beyond the fact that each one desires their own happiness.

But granting that people desire happiness as _one_ of their ends of

conduct, do they never desire anything else? To all appearance they do;

they desire virtue, and the absence of vice, no less surely than

pleasure and the absence of pain. Hence the opponents of utility

consider themselves entitled to infer that happiness is not the

standard of moral approbation and disapprobation.

But the utilitarians do not deny that virtue is a thing to be desired.

The very reverse. They maintain that it is to be desired, and that _for

itself_. Although considering that what makes virtue is the tendency to

promote happiness, yet they hold that the mind is not in a right state,

not in a state conformable to Utility, not in the state conducive to

the general happiness, unless it has adopted this essential

instrumentality so warmly as to love it for its own sake. It is

necessary to the carrying out of utility that certain things,

originally of the nature of means, should come by association to be a

part of the final end. Thus health is but a means, and yet we cherish

it as strongly as we do any of the ultimate pleasures and pains. So

virtue is not originally an end, but it is capable of becoming so; it

is to be desired and cherished not solely as a means to happiness, but

as a part of happiness.

The notorious instance of money exemplifies this operation. The same

may be said of power and fame; although these are ends as well as

means. We should be but ill provided with happiness, were it not for

this provision of nature, whereby, things, originally indifferent, but

conducive to the satisfaction of our primitive desires, become in

themselves sources of pleasure, of even greater value than the

primitive pleasures, both in permanency and in the extent of their

occupation of our life. Virtue is originally valuable as bringing

pleasure and avoiding pain; but by association it may be felt as a good

in itself, and be desired as intensely as any other good; with this

superiority over money, power, or fame, that it makes the individual a

blessing to society, while these others may make him a curse.

With the allowance thus made for the effect of association, the author

considers it proved that there is in reality nothing desired except

happiness. Whatever is desired otherwise than as a means to some end

beyond itself, and ultimately to happiness, is not desired for itself

till it has become such. Human nature is so constituted, he thinks,

that we desire nothing but what is either a part of happiness or a

means of happiness; and no other proof is required that these are the

only things desirable. Whether this psychological assertion be correct,

must be determined by the self-consciousness and observation of the

most practised observers of human nature.

It may be alleged that, although desire always tends to happiness, yet

Will, as shown by actual conduct, is different from desire. We persist

in a course of action long after the original desire has faded. But

this is merely an instance of that familiar fact, the power of habit,

and is nowise confined to the virtuous actions. Will is amenable to

habit; we may will from habit what we no longer desire for itself, or

desire only because we will it. But the will is the child of desire,

and passes out of the dominion of its parent only to come under the

sway of habit. What is the result of habit may not be intrinsically

good; we might think it better for virtue that habit did not come in,

were it not that the other influences are not sufficiently to be

depended on for unerring constancy, until they have acquired this

farther support.

Chapter V. is ON THE CONNEXION BETWEEN JUSTICE AND UTILITY.

The strongest obstacle to the doctrine of Utility has been drawn from

the Idea of Justice. The rapid perception and the powerful sentiment

connected with the Just, seem to show it as generically distinct from

every variety of the Expedient.

To see whether the sense of justice can be explained on grounds of

Utility, the author begins by surveying in the concrete the things

usually denominated just. In the first place, it is commonly considered

unjust to deprive any one of their personal liberty, or property, or

anything secured to them by law: in other words, it is unjust to

violate any one's legal rights. Secondly, The legal rights of a man may

be such as _ought_ not to have belonged to him; that is, the law

conferring those rights may be a bad law. When a law is bad, opinions

will differ as to the justice or injustice of infringing it; some think

that no law should be disobeyed by the individual citizen; others hold

that it is just to resist unjust laws. It is thus admitted by all that

there is such a thing as _moral right_, the refusal of which is

injustice. Thirdly, it is considered just that each person should

receive what he _deserves_ (whether good or evil). And a person is

understood to deserve good if he does right, evil if he does wrong; and

in particular to deserve good in return for good, and evil in return

for evil. Fourthly, it is unjust to _break faith_, to violate an

engagement, or disappoint expectations knowingly and voluntarily

raised. Like other obligations, this is not absolute, but may be

overruled by some still stronger demand of justice on the other side.

Fifthly, it is inconsistent with justice to be _partial_; to show

favour or preference in matters where favour does not apply. We are

expected in certain cases to prefer our friends to strangers; but a

tribunal is bound to the strictest impartiality; rewards and

punishments should be administered impartially; so likewise the

patronage of important public offices. Nearly allied to impartiality is

the idea of _equality_. The justice of giving equal protection to the

rights of all is maintained even when the rights themselves are very

unequal, as in slavery and in the system of ranks or castes. There are

the greatest differences as to what is equality in the distribution of

the produce of labour; some thinking that all should receive alike;

others that the neediest should receive most; others that the

distribution should be according to labour or services.

To get a clue to the common idea running through all these meanings,

the author refers to the etymology of the word, which, in most

languages, points to something ordained by _law_. Even although there

be many things considered just, that we do not usually enforce by law,

yet in these cases it would give us pleasure if law could be brought to

bear upon offenders. When we think a person bound in justice to do a

thing, we should like to see him punished for not doing it; we lament

the obstacles that may be in the way, and strive to make amends by a

strong expression of our own opinion. The idea of legal constraint is

thus the generating idea of justice throughout all its transformations.

The real turning point between morality and simple expediency is

contained in the penal sanction. Duty is what we may _exact_ of a

person; there may be reasons why we do not exact it, but the person

himself would not be entitled to complain if we did so. Expediency, on

the other hand, points to things that we may wish people to do, may

praise them for doing, and despise them for not doing, while we do not

consider it proper to bring in the aid of punishment.

There enters farther into the idea of Justice what has been expressed

by the ill-chosen phrase, 'perfect obligation,' meaning that the duty

involves a moral right on the part of some definite person, as in the

case of a debt; an imperfect obligation is exemplified by charity,

which gives no legal claim to any one recipient. Every such right is a

case of Justice, and not of Beneficence.

The Idea of Justice is thus shown to be grounded in Law; and the next

question is, does the strong feeling or sentiment of Justice grow out

of considerations of utility? Mr. Mill conceives that though the notion

of expediency or utility does not give birth to the sentiment, it gives

birth to what is _moral_ in it.

The two essentials of justice are (1) the desire to punish some one,

and (2) the notion or belief that harm has been done to some definite

individual or individuals. Now, it appears to the author that the

desire to punish is a spontaneous outgrowth of two sentiments, both

natural, and, it may be, instinctive; the impulse of _self-defence_,

and the feeling of _sympathy_. We naturally resent, repel, and

retaliate, any harm done to ourselves and to any one that engages our

sympathies. There is nothing moral in mere resentment; the moral part

is the subordination of it to our social regards. We are moral beings,

in proportion as we restrain our private resentment whenever it

conflicts with the interests of society. All moralists agree with Kant

in saying that no act is right that could not be adopted as a law by

all rational beings (that is, consistently with the well-being of

society).

There is in Justice a rule of conduct, and a right on the part of some

one, which right ought to be enforced by society. If it is asked why

society _ought_ to enforce the right, there is no answer but the

general utility. If that expression seem feeble and inadequate to

account for the energy of retaliation inspired by injustice, the author

asks us to advert to the extraordinarily important and impressive kind

of utility that is concerned. The interest involved is _security_, to

every one's feelings the most vital of all interests. All other earthly

benefits needed by one person are not needed by another; and many of

them can, if necessary, be cheerfully foregone, or replaced by

something else; but security no human being can possibly do without; on

it we depend for all our immunity from evil, and for the whole value of

all and every good, beyond the passing moment. Now, this most

indispensable of all necessaries, after physical nutriment, cannot be

had unless the machinery for providing it is kept unintermittedly in

active play. Our notion, therefore, of the claim we have on our

fellow-creatures to join in making safe for us the very groundwork of

our existence, gathers feelings around it so much more intense than

those concerned in any of the more common cases of utility, that the

difference in degree (as is often the case in psychology) becomes a

real difference in kind. The claim assumes that character of

absoluteness, that apparent infinity, and incommensurability with all

other considerations, which constitute the distinction between the

feeling of right and wrong, and that of ordinary expediency and

inexpediency.

Having presented his own analysis of the sentiment of Justice, the

author proceeds to examine the _intuitive_ theory. The charge is

constantly brought against Utility, that it is an uncertain standard,

differently interpreted by each person. The only safety, it is

pretended, is found in the immutable, ineffaceable, and unmistakeable

dictates of Justice, carrying their evidence in themselves, and

independent of the fluctuations of opinions. But so far is this from

being the fact, that there is as much difference of opinion, and as

much discussion, about what is just, as about what is useful to

society.

To take a few instances. On the question of Punishment, some hold it

unjust to punish any one by way of example, or for any end but the good

of the sufferer. Others maintain that the good of the society is the

only admissible end of punishment. Robert Owen affirms that punishment

altogether is unjust, and that we should deal with crime only through

education. Now, without an appeal to expediency, it is impossible to

arbitrate among these conflicting views; each one has a maxim of

justice on its side. Then as to the apportioning of punishments to

offences. The rule that recommends itself to the primitive sentiment of

justice is an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth; a rule formally

abandoned in European countries, although not without its hold upon the

popular mind. With many, the test of justice, in penal infliction, is

that it should be proportioned to the offence; while others maintain

that it is just to inflict only such an amount of punishment as will

deter from the commission of the offence.

Besides the differences of opinion already alluded to, as to the

payment of labour, how many, and irreconcileable, are the standards of

justice appealed to on the matter of taxation? One opinion is, that

taxes should be in proportion to pecuniary means; others think the

wealthy should pay a higher proportion. In point of natural justice, a

case might be made out for disregarding means, and taking the same sum

from each, as the privileges are equally bestowed: yet from feelings of

humanity and social expediency no one advocates that view. So that

there is no mode of extricating the question but the utilitarian.

To sum up. The great distinction between, the Just and the Expedient is

the distinction between the essentials of well-being--the moral rules

forbidding mankind to hurt one another--and the rules that only point

out the best mode of managing some department of human affairs. It is

in the higher moralities of protection from harm that each individual

has the greatest stake; and they are the moralities that compose the

obligations of justice. It is on account of these that punishment, or

retribution of evil for evil, is universally included in the idea. For

the carrying out of the process of retaliation, certain maxims are

necessary as instruments or as checks to abuse; as that involuntary

acts are not punishable; that no one shall be condemned unheard; that

punishment should be proportioned to the offence. Impartiality, the

first of judicial virtues, is necessary to the fulfilment of the other

conditions of justice: while from the highest form of doing to each

according to their deserts, it is the abstract standard of social and

distributive justice; and is in this sense a direct emanation from the

first principle of morals, the principle of the greatest Happiness. All

social inequalities that have ceased to be considered as expedient,

assume the character, not of simple inexpediency, but of injustice.

Besides the 'Utilitarianism,' Mr. Mill's chief Ethical dissertations

are his review of Whewell's Moral Treatises (_Dissertations and

Discussions_, Vol. II.), and parts of his Essay on _Liberty_. By

collecting his views generally under the usual heads, we shall find a

place for some points additional to what are given in the foregoing

abstract.

I.--Enough has been stated as to his Ethical Standard, the Principle of

Utility.

II.--We have seen his Psychological explanation of the Moral Faculty,

as a growth from certain elementary feelings of the mind.

He has also discussed extensively the Freedom of the Will, maintaining

the strict causation of human actions, and refuting the supposed

fatalistic tendency of the doctrine.

He believes, as we have seen, in Disinterested impulses, but traces

them to a purely self-regarding origin.

III.--He does not give any formal dissertation on Human Happiness, but

indicates many of its important conditions, as in the remarks cited

above, p. 702. In the chapter of the work on 'Liberty,' entitled

Individuality, he illustrates the great importance of special tastes,

and urges the full right of each person to the indulgence of these in

every case where they do not directly injure others. He reclaims

against the social tyranny prevailing on such points as dress, personal

habits, and eccentricities.

IV.--As regards the Moral Code, he would repeal the legal and moral

rule that makes marriage irrevocable. He would also abolish all

restraints on freedom of thought, and on Individuality of conduct,

qualified as above stated.

He would impose two new moral restraints. He considers that every

parent should be bound to provide a suitable education for his own

children. Farther, for any one to bring into the world human beings

without the means of supporting them, or, in an over-peopled country,

to produce children in such number as to depress the reward of labour

by competition, he regards as serious offences.

SAMUEL BAILEY.

Mr. Samuel Bailey devotes the last four in his Third Series of 'Letters

on the Philosophy of the Human Mind,' to the subject of the Moral

Sentiments, or the feelings inspired in us by human conduct. He first

sets down five facts in the human constitution, in which moral

phenomena originate--

1. Man is susceptible of pleasure and pain of various kinds and

degrees.

2. He likes and dislikes respectively the causes of them.

3. He desires to reciprocate pleasure and pain received, when

intentionally given by other sentient beings.

4. He himself expects such reciprocation from his fellows, coveting it

in the one case, and shunning it in the other.

5. He feels, under certain circumstances, more or less sympathy with

the pleasures and pains given to others, accompanied by a proportionate

desire that those affections should be reciprocated to the givers.

These rudimentary affections, states and operations of consciousness

[he is careful to note that, besides feelings, intellectual conditions

and processes are involved in them] are found more or less developed in

all, or nearly all the human race. In support of the limitation now

made, he adduces what are given as authentic accounts of savages devoid

of all gratitude and fellow-feeling; and then goes on to trace the

nature and development of moral sentiment from the rudimentary powers

and susceptibilities mentioned, in those that do possess them. In doing

so, he follows the convenient mode of speech that takes actions for the

objects that excite the susceptibilities, although, in reality, the

objects are no other than human beings acting in particular ways.

The feelings he supposes to be modified in manner or degree, according

as actions are (1) done by ourselves to others, or (2) done to others

by others, or (3) done to others by ourselves; _i.e._, according as we

ourselves are the subjects, the spectators, or doers of them.

First, then, he considers our feelings in regard to actions done to us

by others, and the more carefully, because these lie at the foundation

of the rest. When a fellow-creature intentionally contributes to our

pleasure, we feel the pleasure; we feel a liking to the person

intentionally conferring it, and we feel an inclination to give him

pleasure in return. The two last feelings--liking and inclination to

reciprocate, constitute the simplest form of moral approbation; in the

contrary case, dislike and resentment give the rudimentary form of

moral disapprobation. It is enough to excite the feelings, that the

actions are merely _thought_ to be done by the person. They are moral

sentiments, even although it could be supposed that there were no other

kinds of actions in the world except actions done to ourselves; but

they are moral sentiments in the purely selfish form. That, for moral

sentiment, mere liking and disliking must be combined with the desire

to reciprocate good and evil, appears on a comparison of our different

feelings towards animate and inanimate causes of pleasure and pain;

there being towards inanimate objects no desire of reciprocation. To a

first objection, that the violent sentiments, arising upon actions done

to ourselves, should not get the temperate designation of moral

approbation and disapprobation, he replies, that such extremes as the

passions of gratitude and resentment must yet be identified in their

origin with our cooler feelings, when we are mere spectators or actors.

A second objection, that the epithet _moral_ is inapplicable to

sentiments involving purely personal feeling, and destitute of

sympathy, he answers, by remarking that the word _moral_, in

philosophy, should not eulogistically be opposed to _immoral_, but

should be held as neutral, and to mean 'relating to conduct, whatever

that conduct may be.' He closes the first head with the observation,

that in savage life the violent desire of reciprocation is best seen;

generally, however, as he gives instances to show, in the form of

revenge and reciprocation of evil.

In the second place, he considers our feelings when we are spectators

of actions done to others by others. These form the largest class of

actions, but to us they have a meaning, for the most part at least,

only as they have an analogy to actions done to ourselves. The variety

of the resulting feelings, generally less intense than when we are the

subjects of the actions, is illustrated first by supposing the persons

affected to be those we love; in this case, the feelings are analogous

to those already mentioned, and they may be even more intense than when

we ourselves are personally affected. If those affected are indifferent

to us, our feelings are less intense, but we are still led to feel as

before, from a natural sympathy with other men's pains and

pleasures--always supposing the sympathy is not (as often happens)

otherwise counteracted or superseded; and also from the influence of

association, if that, too, happen not to be countervailed. Of sympathy

for human beings in general, he remarks that a certain measure of

civilization seems required to bring it properly out, and he cites

instances to prove how much it is wanting in savages. In a third case,

where the persons affected are supposed to be those we hate, we are

displeased when they are made to rejoice, and pleased when they suffer,

unless we are overcome by our habitual associations with good and evil

actions. Such associations weigh least with rude and savage peoples,

but even the most civilized nations disregard them in times of war.

He takes up, in the third place, actions done by ourselves to others.

Here, when the action is beneficent, the peculiarity is that an

expectation of receiving good in return from our neighbours takes the

place of a desire to reciprocate; we consider ourselves the proper

object of grateful thoughts, &c., on the part both of receiver and of

spectators. We are affected with the gratification of a benevolent

desire, with self-complacency, and with undefined hopes. When we have

inflicted injury, there is the expectation of evil, and a combination

of feelings summed up in the word Remorse. But Remorse, like other

sentiments, may fail in the absence of cultivation of mind or under

special circumstances.

Having considered the three different kinds of actions separately, he

next remarks that the sentiment prevailing in each case must be liable

to a reflex influence from the other cases, whereby it will be

strengthened or intensified; thus we come to associate certain

intensities of moral sentiment with certain kinds of action, by

whomsoever or to whomsoever performed. He also notes, that in the first

and third cases, as well as in the second, there is a variation of the

sentiment, according as the parties affected are friends, neutrals, or

enemies. Finally, a peculiar and important modification of the

sentiments results from the outward manifestations of them called forth

from the persons directly or indirectly affected by actions. Such are

looks, gestures, tones, words, or actions, being all efforts to gratify

the natural desire of reciprocating pleasure or pain. Of these the most

notable are the verbal manifestations, as they are mostly

irrepressible, and can alone always be resorted to. While relieving the

feelings, they can also become a most powerful, as they are often the

only, instrument of reward and punishment. Their power of giving to

moral sentiments greater precision, and of acting upon conduct like

authoritative precepts, is seen in greatest force when they proceed

from, bodies of men, whether they are regarded as signs of material

consequences or not. He ends this part of the subject by defending,

with Butler, the place of resentment in the moral constitution.