CHAPTER II

VIRTUE AND DUTY

§ 1. Before, however, we attempt to define particular virtues or

departments of duty, it will be well to examine further the notions

of Duty and Virtue in general, and the relations between the two, as

we find them implicitly conceived by the common sense of mankind,

which we are endeavouring to express. Hitherto I have taken Duty to

be broadly convertible with Right conduct: I have noticed, however,

that the former term--like “ought” and “moral obligation”--implies at

least the _potential_ presence of motives prompting to wrong conduct;

and is therefore not applicable to beings to whom no such conflict of

motives can be attributed. Thus God is not conceived as performing

duties, though He is conceived as realising Justice and other kinds of

Rightness in action. For a similar reason, we do not commonly apply the

term ‘duty’ to right actions--however necessary and important--when

we are so strongly impelled to them by non-moral inclinations that no

moral impulse is conceived to be necessary for their performance. Thus

we do not say generally that it is a duty to eat and drink enough:

though we do often say this to invalids who have lost their appetite.

We should therefore perhaps keep most close to usage if we defined

Duties as ‘those Right actions or abstinences, for the adequate

accomplishment of which a moral impulse is conceived to be at least

occasionally necessary.’ But as this line of distinction is vague, and

continually varying, I shall not think it necessary to draw attention

to it in the detailed discussion of duties: it seems sufficient to

point out that we shall be chiefly concerned with such right conduct as

comes within the definition just suggested.

It may be said, however, that there is another implication in the term

“duty” which I have so far overlooked, but which its derivation--and

that of the equivalent term ‘obligation’--plainly indicates: viz.

that it is “due” or owed to some one. But I think that here the

derivation does not govern the established usage: rather, it is

commonly recognised that duties owed _to_ persons, or “relative”

duties, are only one species, and that some duties--as (_e.g._)

Truth-speaking--have no such relativity. No doubt it is possible

to view any duty as relative to the person or persons immediately

affected by its performance; but it is not usual to do this where

the immediate effects are harmful--as where truth-speaking causes a

physically injurious shock to the person addressed--: and though it

may still be conceived to be ultimately good for society, and so “due”

to the community or to humanity at large, that truth should even in

this case be spoken, this conception hardly belongs to the intuitional

view that ‘truth should be spoken regardless of consequences.’ Again,

it may be thought by religious persons that the performance of duties

is owed not to the human or other living beings affected by them, but

to God as the author of the moral law. And I certainly would not deny

that our common conception of duty involves an implied relation of an

individual will to a universal will conceived as perfectly rational:

but I am not prepared to affirm that this implication is necessary, and

an adequate discussion of the difficulties involved in it would lead to

metaphysical controversies which I am desirous of avoiding. I propose,

therefore, in this exposition of the Intuitional method, to abstract

from this relation of Duty generally to a Divine Will: and, for reasons

partly similar, to leave out of consideration the particular “duties to

God” which Intuitionists have often distinguished and classified. Our

view of the general rules of “duty to man” (or to other animals)--so

far as such rules are held to be cognisable by moral intuition--will,

I conceive, remain the same, whether or not we regard such rules as

imposed by a Supreme Rational Will: since in any case they will be

such as we hold it rational for all men to obey, and therefore such

as a Supreme Reason would impose. I shall not therefore treat the

term “Duty” as implying necessarily a relation either to a universal

Imponent or to the individuals primarily affected by the performance

of duties: but shall use it as equivalent generally to Right conduct,

while practically concentrating attention on acts and abstinences for

which a moral impulse is thought to be more or less required.

The notion of Virtue presents more complexity and difficulty, and

requires to be discussed from different points of view. We may begin

by noticing that there seem to be some particular virtues (such as

Generosity) which may be realised in acts objectively--though not

subjectively--wrong, from want of insight into their consequences: and

even some (such as Courage) which may be exhibited in wrong acts that

are known by the agent to be such. But though the contemplation of such

acts excites in us a quasi-moral admiration, in the latter case we

certainly should not call them virtuous, and it is doubtful whether we

should do so in the former case, if we were using the term strictly.

It will therefore involve no material deviation from usage, if we

limit the term “Virtue” to qualities exhibited in right conduct:[172]

accordingly I propose to adopt this limitation in subsequent

discussions.

How far, then, are we to regard the spheres of Duty and Virtue (thus

defined) as co-extensive? To a great extent they undoubtedly are so,

in the common application of the terms, but not altogether: since in

its common use each term seems to include something excluded from the

other. We should scarcely say that it was virtuous--under ordinary

circumstances--to pay one’s debts, or give one’s children a decent

education, or keep one’s aged parents from starving; these being duties

which most men perform, and only bad men neglect. On the other hand,

there are acts of high and noble virtue which we commonly regard as

going beyond the strict duty of the agent; since, while we praise their

performance, we do not condemn their non-performance. Here, however,

a difficulty seems to arise; for we should not deny that it is, in

some sense, a man’s strict duty to do whatever action he judges most

excellent, so far as it is in his power.

But can we say that it is as much in a man’s power to realise Virtue

as it is to fulfil Duty?[173] To some extent, no doubt, we should

say this: no quality of conduct is ever called a virtue unless it

is thought to be _to some extent_ immediately attainable at will

by all ordinary persons, when circumstances give opportunity for

its manifestation. In fact the line between virtues and other

excellences of behaviour is commonly drawn by this characteristic of

voluntariness;--an excellence which we think no effort of will could at

once enable us to exhibit in any appreciable degree is called a gift,

grace, or talent, but not properly a virtue. Writers like Hume,[174]

who obliterate this line, diverge manifestly from common sense. Still

I regard it as manifestly paradoxical to maintain that it is in the

power of any one at any time to realise virtue in the highest form or

degree; (_e.g._) no one would affirm that any ordinary man can at will

exhibit the highest degree of courage in the sense in which courage

is a virtue--when occasion arises. It would seem, therefore, that we

can distinguish a margin of virtuous conduct, which may be beyond the

strict duty of any individual as being beyond his power.

Can we then, excluding this margin, say that virtuous conduct, so

far as it is in a man’s power, coincides completely with his duty?

Certainly we should agree that a truly moral man cannot say to himself,

“This is the best thing on the whole for me to do, but yet it is not

my duty to do it though it is in my power”: this would certainly seem

to common sense an immoral paradox.[175] And yet there seem to be acts

and abstinences which we praise as virtuous, without imposing them as

duties upon all who are able to do them; as for a rich man to live very

plainly and devote his income to works of public beneficence.

Perhaps we may harmonise these inconsistent views by distinguishing

between the questions ‘what a man ought to do or forbear’ and ‘what

other men ought to blame him for not doing or forbearing’: and

recognising that the standard normally applied in dealing with the

latter question is laxer than would be right in dealing with the

former. But how is this double standard to be explained? We may

partly explain it by the different degrees of our knowledge in the

two cases: there are many acts and forbearances of which we cannot

lay down definitely that they ought to be done or forborne, unless

we have the complete knowledge of circumstances which a man commonly

possesses only in his own case, and not in that of other men. Thus I

may easily assure myself that I ought to subscribe to a given hospital:

but I cannot judge whether my neighbour ought to subscribe, as I do

not know the details of his income and the claims which he is bound

to satisfy. I do not, however, think that this explanation is always

applicable: I think that there are not a few cases in which we refrain

from blaming others for the omission of acts which we do not doubt that

we in their place should have thought it our duty to perform. In such

cases the line seems drawn by a more or less conscious consideration of

what men ordinarily do, and by a social instinct as to the practical

effects of expressed moral approbation and disapprobation: we think

that moral progress will on the whole be best promoted by our praising

acts that are above the level of ordinary practice, and confining our

censure--at least if precise and particular--to acts that fall clearly

below this standard. But a standard so determined must be inevitably

vague, and tending to vary as the average level of morality varies

in any community, or section of a community: indeed it is the aim of

preachers and teachers of morality to raise it continually. Hence it is

not convenient to use it in drawing a theoretical line between Virtue

and Duty: and I have therefore thought it best to employ the terms so

that virtuous conduct may include the performance of duty as well as

whatever good actions may be commonly thought to go beyond duty; though

recognising that Virtue in its ordinary use is most conspicuously

manifested in the latter.

§ 2. So far I have been considering the term ‘Virtuous’ as applied to

conduct. But both this general term, and the names connoting particular

virtues--“just,” “liberal,” “brave,” etc.--are applied to persons as

well as to their acts: and the question may be raised which application

is most appropriate or primary. Here reflection, I think, shows that

these attributes are not thought by us to belong to acts considered

apart from their agents: so that Virtue seems to be primarily a

quality of the soul or mind, conceived as permanent in comparison

with the transient acts and feelings in which it is manifested. As so

conceived it is widely held to be a possession worth aiming at for

its own sake; to be, in fact, a part of that Perfection of man which

is by some regarded as the sole Ultimate Good. This view I shall

consider in a subsequent chapter.[176] Meanwhile it may be observed

that Virtues, like other habits and dispositions, though regarded as

comparatively permanent attributes of the mind, are yet attributes of

which we can only form definite notions by conceiving the particular

transient phenomena in which they are manifested. If then we ask in

what phenomena Virtuous character is manifested, the obvious answer is

that it is manifested in voluntary actions, so far as intentional; or,

more briefly, in volitions. And many, perhaps most, moralists would

give this as a complete answer. If they are not prepared to affirm with

Kant that a good will is the only absolute and unconditional Good,

they will at any rate agree with Butler that “the object of the moral

faculty is actions, comprehending under that name active or practical

principles: those principles from which men would act if occasions

and circumstances gave them power.” And if it be urged that more than

this is included (_e.g._) in the Christian conception of the Virtue

of Charity, the “love of our neighbour,” they will explain with Kant

that by this love we must not understand the emotion of affection, but

merely the resolution to benefit, which alone has “true moral worth.”

I do not, however, think that the complete exclusion of an emotional

element from the conception of Virtue would be really in harmony

with the common sense of mankind. I think that in our common moral

judgments certain kinds of virtuous actions are held to be at any

rate adorned and made better by the presence of certain emotions in

the virtuous agent: though no doubt the element of volition is the

more important and indispensable. Thus the Virtue of Chastity or

Purity, in its highest form, seems to include more than a mere settled

resolution to abstain from unlawful lust; it includes some sentiment

of repugnance to impurity. Again, we recognise that benefits which

spring from affection and are lovingly bestowed are more acceptable to

the recipients than those conferred without affection, in the taste of

which there is admittedly something harsh and dry: hence, in a certain

way, the affection, if practical and steady, seems a higher excellence

than the mere beneficent disposition of the will, as resulting in more

excellent acts. In the case of Gratitude even the rigidity of Kant[177]

seems to relax, and to admit an element of emotion as indispensable to

the virtue: and there are various other notions, such as Loyalty and

Patriotism, which it is difficult--without paradox--either to exclude

from a list of virtues or to introduce stripped bare of all emotional

elements.

A consideration of the cases last mentioned will lead us to conclude

that, in the view of Common Sense, the question (raised in the

preceding chapter), whether an act is virtuous in proportion as it

was done from regard for duty or virtue, must be answered in the

negative: for the degree in which an act deserves praise as courageous,

loyal, or patriotic does not seem to be reduced by its being shown

that the predominant motive to the act was natural affection and not

love of virtue as such. Indeed in some cases I think it clear that we

commonly attribute virtue to conduct where regard for duty or virtue

is not consciously present at all: as in the case of a heroic act of

courage--let us say, in saving a fellow-creature from death--under an

impulse of spontaneous sympathy. So again, when we praise a man as

“genuinely humble” we certainly do not imply that he is conscious of

fulfilling a duty--still less that he is conscious of exhibiting a

virtue--by being humble.

It further appears to me that in the case of many important virtues

we do not commonly consider the ultimate spring of action--whether it

be some emotional impulse or the rational choice of duty as duty--in

attributing a particular virtue to particular persons: what we regard

as indispensable is merely a settled resolve to will a certain kind

of external effects. Thus we call a man veracious if his speech

exhibits, in a noteworthy degree, a settled endeavour to produce in

the minds of others impressions exactly correspondent to the facts,

whatever his motive may be for so doing: whether he is moved, solely

or mainly, by a regard for virtue, or a sense of the degradation of

falsehood, or a conviction that truth-speaking is in the long run the

best policy, or a sympathetic aversion to the inconveniences which

misleading statements cause to other people. I do not mean that we

regard these motives as of equal moral value: but that the presence or

absence of any one or other of them is not implied in our attribution

of the virtue of veracity. Similarly we attribute Justice, if a man

has a settled habit of weighing diverse claims and fulfilling them in

the ratio of their importance; Good Faith if he has a settled habit

of strictly keeping express or tacit engagements: and so forth. Even

where we clearly take motives into account, in judging of the degree

of virtue it is often rather the force of seductive motives resisted

than the particular nature of the prevailing springs of action which

we consider. Thus we certainly think virtue has been manifested in a

higher degree in just or veracious conduct, when the agent had strong

temptations to be unjust or unveracious; and in the same way there are

certain dispositions or habits tending to good conduct which are called

virtues when there are powerful seductive motives operating and not

otherwise; _e.g._ when we attribute the virtue of temperance to a man

who eats and drinks a proper amount, it is because we also attribute to

him appetites prompting to excess.

At the same time I admit that Common Sense seems liable to some

perplexity as to the relation of virtue to the moral effort required

for resisting unvirtuous impulses. On the one hand a general assent

would be given to the proposition that virtue is especially drawn out

and exhibited in a successful conflict with natural inclination: and

perhaps even to the more extreme statement that there is no virtue[178]

in doing what one likes. On the other hand we should surely agree

with Aristotle that Virtue is imperfect so long as the agent cannot

do the virtuous action without a conflict of impulses; since it is

from a wrong bent of natural impulse that we find it hard to do what

is best, and it seems absurd to say that the more we cure ourselves

of this wrong bent, the less virtuous we grow. Perhaps we may solve

the difficulty by recognising that our common idea of Virtue includes

two distinct elements, the one being the most perfect ideal of moral

excellence that we are able to conceive for human beings, while the

other is manifested in the effort of imperfect men to attain this

ideal. Thus in proportion as a man comes to like any particular kind of

good conduct and to do it without moral effort, we shall not say that

his conduct becomes less virtuous but rather more in conformity with

a true moral ideal; while at the same time we shall recognise that in

this department of his life he has less room to exhibit that other kind

of virtue which is manifested in resistance to seductive impulses, and

in the energetic striving of the will to get nearer to ideal perfection.

So far I have been considering the manifestation of virtue in emotions

and volitions, and have not expressly adverted to the intellectual

conditions of virtuous acts: though in speaking of such acts it is of

course implied that the volition is accompanied with an intellectual

representation of the particular effects willed. It is not, however,

implied that in willing such effects we must necessarily think of

them as right or good: and I do not myself think that, in the view of

common sense, this is an indispensable condition of the virtuousness

of an act; for it seems that some kinds of virtuous acts may be done

so entirely without deliberation that no moral judgment was passed

on them by the agent. This might be the case, for instance, with

an act of heroic courage, prompted by an impulse of sympathy with

a fellow-creature in sudden peril. But it is, I conceive, clearly

necessary that such an act should not be even vaguely thought to be

bad. As I have already said, it is more doubtful how far an act which

is conceived by the agent to be good, but which is really bad, is ever

judged by common sense to be virtuous[179]: but if we agree to restrict

the term to acts which we regard as right, it is again obvious

that the realisation of virtue may not be in the power of any given

person at any given time, through lack of the requisite intellectual

conditions.[180]

To sum up the results of a rather complicated discussion: I consider

Virtue as a quality manifested in the performance of duty (or good

acts going beyond strict duty): it is indeed primarily attributed to

the mind or character of the agent; but it is only known to us through

its manifestations in feelings and acts. Accordingly, in endeavouring

to make precise our conceptions of the particular virtues, we have

to examine the states of consciousness in which they are manifested.

Examining these, we find that the element of volition is primarily

important, and in some cases almost of sole importance, but yet

that the element of emotion cannot be altogether discarded without

palpable divergence from common sense. Again, concentrating our

attention on the volitional element, we find that in most cases what

we regard as manifestations of virtue are the volitions to produce

certain particular effects; the general determination to do right as

right, duty for duty’s sake, is indeed thought to be of fundamental

importance as a generally necessary spring of virtuous action; but it

is not thought to be an indispensable condition of the existence of

virtue in any particular case. Similarly in considering the emotional

element, though an ardent love of virtue or aversion to vice generally

is a valuable stimulus to virtuous conduct, it is not a universally

necessary condition of it: and in the case of some acts the presence

of other emotions--such as kind affection--makes the acts better than

if they were done from a purely moral motive. Such emotions, however,

cannot be commanded at will: and this is also true of the knowledge of

what ought to be done in any particular case,--which, if we restrict

the term ‘virtuous’ to right acts, is obviously required to render

conduct perfectly virtuous. For these and other reasons I consider that

though Virtue is distinguished by us from other excellences by the

characteristic of voluntariness--it must be _to some extent_ capable

of being realised at will when occasion arises--this voluntariness

attaches to it only in a certain degree; and that, though a man can

always do his Duty if he knows it, he cannot always realise virtue in

the highest degree.

It should, however, be observed that even when it is beyond our

power to realise virtue immediately at will, we recognise a duty of

cultivating it and seeking to develop it: and this duty of cultivation

extends to all virtuous habits or dispositions in which we are found

to be deficient, so far as we can thus increase our tendency to do the

corresponding acts in future; however completely such acts may on each

occasion be within the control of the will. It is true that for acts of

this latter kind, so far as they are perfectly deliberate, we do not

seem to need any special virtuous habits; if only we have knowledge of

what is right and best to be done, together with a sufficiently strong

wish to do it.[181] But, in order to fulfil our duties thoroughly,

we are obliged to act during part of our lives suddenly and without

deliberation: on such occasions there is no room for moral reasoning,

and sometimes not even for explicit moral judgment; so that in order to

act virtuously, we require such particular habits and dispositions as

are denoted by the names of the special virtues: and it is a duty to

foster and develop these in whatever way experience shows this to be

possible.

The complicated relation of virtue to duty, as above determined, must

be borne in mind throughout the discussion of the particular virtues,

to which I shall proceed in the following chapters. But, as we have

seen, the main part of the manifestation of virtue in conduct consists

in voluntary actions, which it is within the power of any individual

to do--so far as they are recognised by him as right,--and which

therefore come within our definition of Duty, as above laid down; it

will not therefore be necessary, during the greater part of the ensuing

discussion, to distinguish between principles of virtuous conduct and

principles of duty; since the definitions of the two will coincide.

§ 3. Here, however, a remark is necessary, which to some extent

qualifies what was said in the preceding chapter, where I characterised

the common notions of particular virtues--justice, etc.--as too vague

to furnish exact determinations of the actions enjoined under them. I

there assumed that rules of duty ought to admit of precise definition

in a universal form: and this assumption naturally belongs to the

ordinary or jural view of Ethics as concerned with a moral code: since

we should agree that if obligations are imposed on any one he ought at

least to know what they are, and that a law indefinitely drawn must

be a bad law. But so far as we contemplate virtue as something that

goes beyond strict duty and is not always capable of being realised at

will, this assumption is not so clearly appropriate: since from this

point of view we naturally compare excellence of conduct with beauty

in the products of the Fine Arts. Of such products we commonly say,

that though rules and definite prescriptions may do much, they can

never do all; that the highest excellence is always due to an instinct

or tact that cannot be reduced to definite formulæ. We can describe

the beautiful products when they are produced, and to some extent

classify their beauties, giving names to each; but we cannot prescribe

any certain method for producing each kind of beauty. So, it may be

said, stands the case with virtues: and hence the attempt to state an

explicit maxim, by applying which we may be sure of producing virtuous

acts of any kind, must fail: we can only give a general account of

the virtue--a description, not a definition--and leave it to trained

insight to find in any particular circumstances the act that will

best realise it. On this view, which I may distinguish as Æsthetic

Intuitionism, I shall have something to say hereafter.[182] But I

conceive that our primary business is to examine the larger claims of

those Rational or Jural Intuitionists, who maintain that Ethics admits

of exact and scientific treatment, having for its first principles

the general rules of which we have spoken, or the most fundamental

of them: and who thus hold out to us a hope of getting rid of the

fluctuations and discrepancies of opinion, in which we acquiesce

in æsthetic discussions, but which tend to endanger seriously the

authority of ethical beliefs. And we cannot, I think, decide on the

validity of such claims without examining in detail the propositions

which have been put forward as ethical axioms, and seeing how far they

prove to be clear and explicit, or how far others may be suggested

presenting these qualities. For it would not be maintained, at least

by the more judicious thinkers of this school, that such axioms are

always to be found with proper exactness of form by mere observation of

the common moral reasonings of men; but rather that they are at least

implied in these reasonings, and that when made explicit their truth

is self-evident, and must be accepted at once by an intelligent and

unbiassed mind. Just as some mathematical axioms are not and cannot

be known to the multitude, as their certainty cannot be seen except

by minds carefully prepared,--but yet, when their terms are properly

understood, the perception of their absolute truth is immediate and

irresistible. Similarly, if we are not able to claim for a proposed

moral axiom, in its precise form, an explicit and actual assent of

“_orbis terrarum_,” it may still be a truth which men before vaguely

apprehended, and which they will now unhesitatingly admit.

In this inquiry it is not of great importance in what order we take

the virtues. We are not to examine the system of any particular

moralist, but the Morality (as it was called) of Common Sense; and the

discussion of the general notions of Duty and Virtue, in which we have

been engaged in the present chapter, will have shown incidentally the

great difficulty of eliciting from Common Sense any clear principle

of classification of the particular duties and virtues. Hence I

have thought it best to reserve what I have to say on the subject

of classification till a later period of the discussion; and in the

first place to take the matter to be investigated quite empirically,

as we find it in the common thought expressed in the common language

of mankind. The systems of moralists commonly attempt to give some

definite arrangement to this crude material: but in so far as they are

systematic they generally seem forced to transcend Common Sense, and

define what it has left doubtful; as I shall hereafter try to show.

For the present, then, it seems best, in this empirical investigation,

to take the virtues rather in the order of their importance; and, as

there are some that seem to have a special comprehensiveness of range,

and to include under them, in a manner, all or most of the others, it

will be convenient to begin with these. Of these Wisdom is perhaps the

most obvious: in the next chapter, therefore, I propose to examine our

common conceptions of Wisdom, and certain other cognate or connected

virtues or excellences.

FOOTNOTES:

[172] It is more convenient, for the purpose of expounding the morality

of common sense, to understand by Virtue a quality exhibited in right

conduct; for then we can use the common notions of the particular

virtues as heads for the classification of the most important kinds or

aspects of right conduct as generally recognised. And I think that this

employment of the term is as much in accordance with ordinary usage as

any other equally precise use would be.

[173] In Book i. chap. v. § 3 I have explained the sense in which

Determinists no less than Libertarians hold that it is in a man’s power

to do his duty.

[174] Cf. _Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals_, Appendix iv.

[175] If the phrase in the text were used by a moral person, with a

sincere and predominant desire to do his duty, it must, I conceive, be

used in one of two senses: either (1) half-ironically, in recognition

of a customary standard of virtuous conduct which the speaker is not

prepared expressly to dispute, but which he does not really adopt as

valid--as when we say that it would be virtuous to read a new book,

hear a sermon, pay a visit, etc.; or (2) it might be used loosely to

mean that such and such conduct _would_ be best if the speaker were

differently constituted.

[176] Chap. xiv. of this Book.

[177] Cf. _Met. Anf. d. Tugendlehre_, § 33: “diese Tugend, welche

mit Innigkeit der wohlwollenden Gesinnung zugleich Zärtlichkeit des

Wohlwollens verbindet.”

[178] Or no “merit”:--but so far as this latter notion is precisely

applied, it will be more appropriately considered in ch. v. of this

Book (on Justice).

[179] I have before said that decidedly wrong acts are frequently

considered to exhibit in a high degree the tendencies which, when

exhibited in right acts, we call particular virtues--generosity,

courage, patriotism, etc.: and this is especially true of acts bad

through ignorance.

[180] This, I think, is a conclusion which common sense on the whole

accepts: though I note a considerable reluctance to accept it; which,

however, is not shown in the attribution of virtue to persons who do

clearly wrong acts, but rather in an effort to explain their ignorance

as caused by some previous wilful wrongdoing. We try to persuade

ourselves that if (_e.g._) Torquemada did not know that it was wrong to

torture heretics, he might have known if he had not wilfully neglected

means of enlightenment: but there are many cases in which this kind of

explanation is unsupported by facts, and I see no ground for accepting

it as generally true.

[181] Hence the Socratic doctrine that ‘all virtue is knowledge’; on

the assumption that a rational being must necessarily wish for what is

good.

[182] See chap. xiv. § 1 of this Book.

The Methods of Ethics · 第 2 / 16 章