OTHER SOCIAL DUTIES AND VIRTUES
§ 1. When we proceed to inquire how far the minor social duties
and virtues recognised by Common Sense appear on examination to be
anything more than special applications of the Benevolence--general
or particular--discussed in chap. iv., the department of duty which
most prominently claims our attention, is that which deals with the
existence, and determines the legitimacy, of feelings antithetical to
the benevolent.
For it seems that malevolent affections are as natural to man as
the benevolent: not indeed in the same sense--for man tends to have
normally some kindly feeling for any fellow-man, when there is no
special cause operating to make him love or hate, (though this tendency
is obscured in the lower stages of social development by the habitual
hostility between strange tribes and races); but still such special
causes of malevolent feeling continually occur, and, in the main,
exemplify a psychological law analogous to that by which the growth of
benevolent feelings is explained. For just as we are apt to love those
who are the cause of pleasure to us whether by voluntary benefits or
otherwise: so by strict analogy we naturally dislike those who have
done us harm, either consciously from malevolence or mere selfishness,
or even unconsciously, as when another man is an obstacle to our
attainment of a much-desired end. Thus we naturally feel ill-will to a
rival who deprives us of an object of competition: and so in persons
in whom the desire of superiority is strong, a certain dislike of any
one who is more successful or prosperous than themselves is easily
aroused: and this envy, however repulsive to our moral sense, seems as
natural as any other malevolent emotion. And it is to be observed that
each of the elements into which we can analyse malevolent affection
finds its exact counterpart in the analysis of the benevolent: as the
former includes a dislike of the presence of its object and a desire to
inflict pain on it, and also a capacity of deriving pleasure from the
pain thus inflicted.[244]
If now we ask how far indulgence of malevolent emotions is right and
proper, the answer of Common Sense is not easy to formulate. For some
would say broadly that they ought to be repressed altogether or as
far as possible. And no doubt we blame all envy (though sometimes
to exclude it altogether requires a magnanimity which we praise):
and we regard as virtues or natural excellences the _good-humour_
which prevents one from feeling even pain to a material extent--not
to say resentment--from trifling annoyances inflicted by others,
the _meekness_ which does not resent even graver injuries, the
_mildness_ and _gentleness_ which refrain from retaliating them, and
the _placability_ which accords forgiveness rapidly and easily. We
are even accustomed to praise the _mercy_ which spares even deserved
punishment: because though we never exactly disapprove of the
infliction of deserved punishment, and hold it to be generally a duty
of government--and in certain cases of private persons--to inflict
it, we do not think that this duty admits of no exceptions; we think
that in exceptional cases considerations not strictly relevant to the
question of justice may be properly regarded as reasons for remitting
punishment, and we admire the sympathetic nature that eagerly avails
itself of these legitimate occasions for remission.
On the other hand Common Sense admits instinctive resentment for wrong
to be legitimate and proper: and even a more sustained and deliberate
malevolence is commonly approved as virtuous indignation. The problem,
then, is how to reconcile these diverse approvals. Even as regards
external duty, there is some difficulty; since, though it is clear to
common sense that in a well-ordered society punishment of adults ought
generally to be inflicted by government, and that a private individual
wronged ought not to “take the law into his own hands,”--still there
are in all societies injuries to individuals which the law does not
punish at all or not adequately, and for which effective requital is
often possible without transgressing the limits of legality; and there
seems to be no clear agreement as to the right manner of dealing with
these. For the Christian code is widely thought to prescribe a complete
and absolute forgiveness of such offences, and many Christians have
endeavoured to carry out this rule by dismissing the offences as far
as possible from their minds, or at least allowing the memory of them
to have no effect on their outward conduct. Few, however, would deny
that, so far as a wrong done to me gives ground for expecting future
mischief from the offender to myself or to others, I am bound as a
rational being to take due precautions against this future mischief;
and probably most would admit that such precautions for the future, in
the case we are considering, may include the infliction of punishment
for the past, where impunity would give a dangerous temptation to a
repetition of the unpunished offence. If we ask, therefore, how far
forgiveness is practically possible, the answer seems admittedly to
depend on two considerations: (1) how far the punishment to which
resentment prompts is really required in the interests of society,
and (2) how far, if so, it will be adequately inflicted if the person
wronged refrains from inflicting it. But, obviously, so far as we allow
the question to be settled by these considerations we are introducing a
method difficult to distinguish from the Utilitarian.
And we seem led to a similar result in discussing the legitimacy
of malevolent feeling. Here again we find much disagreement among
thoughtful persons: for many would say that though the emotion of
anger is legitimate, it ought to be directed always against wrong
acts as such, and not against the agent: for even where the anger may
legitimately prompt us to punish him, it ought never to overcome our
kindly feeling towards him. And certainly if this state of mind is
possible, it seems the simplest reconciliation of the general maxim of
Benevolence with the admitted duty of inflicting punishment. On the
other hand, it is urged, with some reason, that to retain a genuine
kindly feeling towards a man, while we are gratifying a strong impulse
of aversion to his acts by inflicting pain on him, requires a subtle
complexity of emotion too far out of the reach of ordinary men to be
prescribed as a duty: and that we must allow as right and proper a
temporary suspension of benevolence towards wrong-doers until they have
been punished. Some, again, make a distinction between Instinctive
and Deliberate Resentment: saying that the former is legitimate in
so far as it is required for the self-defence of individuals and the
repression of mutual violence, but that deliberate resentment is not
similarly needed, for if we act deliberately we can act from a better
motive. Others, however, think that a deliberate and sustained desire
to punish wrong-doers is required in the interests of society, since
the mere desire to realise Justice will not practically be strong
enough to repress offences: and that it is as serious a mistake to
attempt to substitute the desire of Justice for natural resentment as
it would be to substitute prudence for natural appetite in eating and
drinking, or mere dutifulness for filial affection.[245]
Again, a distinction may be taken between the impulse to inflict pain
and the desire of the antipathetic pleasure which the agent will reap
from this infliction; so that, while we approve the former under
certain circumstances, we may still regard the latter as altogether
inadmissible. It would seem, however, that a man under the influence
of a strong passion of resentment can hardly exclude from his mind
altogether an anticipation of the pleasure that he will feel when the
passion is gratified; and if so, he can hardly exclude altogether the
desire of this gratification. If, therefore, it is important for the
well-being of society that men should derive hearty satisfaction from
the punishment of a nefarious criminal, it is perhaps going too far
to prohibit absolutely the desire of this satisfaction; though we may
say that a man ought not to cherish this desire, and gloat over the
anticipated pleasure.
On the whole we may perhaps sum up by saying that a superficial view
of the matter naturally leads us to condemn sweepingly all malevolent
feelings and the acts to which they prompt, as contrary to the general
duty of benevolence: but that the common sense of reflective persons
recognises the necessity of relaxing this rule in the interests of
society: only it is not clear as to the limits or principles of this
relaxation, though inclined to let it be determined by considerations
of expediency.
§ 2. The remaining virtues that are clearly and exclusively social,
will be easily seen to have no independent maxims; the conduct in which
they are respectively realised being merely the fulfilment, under
special conditions, of the rules already discussed. We need not, then,
enter upon an exhaustive examination of these minor virtues--for it
is not our object to frame a complete glossary of ethical terms--:
but for illustration’s sake it may be well to discuss one or two of
them; and I will select for examination Liberality with its cognate
notions, partly on account of the prominence that it has had in the
earlier ages of thought, and partly because of a certain complexity
in the feelings with which it is usually regarded. Considered as a
Virtue, Liberality seems to be merely Benevolence, as exhibited in
the particular service of giving money, beyond the limits of strict
duty as commonly recognised:--for in so far as it can be called a duty
to be liberal, it is because in the performance of the more or less
indefinite duties enumerated in chap. iv. we do not like exactness to
be sought; a certain excess is needful if the duty is to be well done.
And perhaps in the case of the poor this graceful excess is excluded by
prudence: for though a poor man might make a great sacrifice in a small
gift we should call this generous but scarcely liberal; Liberality
appears to require an external abundance in the gift even more than a
self-sacrificing disposition. It seems therefore to be possible only to
the rich: and, as I have hinted, in the admiration commonly accorded to
it there seems to be mingled an element rather æsthetic than moral. For
we are all apt to admire power, and we recognise the latent power of
wealth gracefully exhibited in a certain degree of careless profusion
when the object is to give happiness to others. Indeed the vulgar
admire the same carelessness as manifested even in selfish luxury.
The sphere of Liberality, then, lies generally in the fulfilment
of the indefinite duties of Benevolence. But there is a certain
borderground between Justice and Benevolence where it is especially
shown; namely, in the full satisfaction of all customary expectations,
even when indefinite and uncertain; as (_e.g._) in the remuneration
of services, in so far as this is governed by custom; and even
where it is left entirely to free contract, and therefore naturally
determined by haggling and bargaining (as market value generally), it
is characteristic of a liberal man to avoid this haggling and to give
somewhat higher remuneration than the other party might be induced
to take, and similarly to take for his own services a somewhat lower
payment than he might persuade the other to give. And again, since laws
and promises and especially tacit understandings are sometimes doubtful
and ambiguous, a liberal man will in such cases unhesitatingly adopt
the interpretation which is least in his own favour, and pay the most
that he can by any fairminded person be thought to owe, and exact the
least that reasonably can be thought to be due to himself: that is, if
the margin be, relatively to his resources, not considerable.[246] And
of a man who does the opposite of all this we predicate Meanness; this
being the vice antithetical to Liberality. Here again there seems no
place for this particular vice if the amount at stake be considerable;
for then we think it not mean to exact one’s own rights to the full,
and worse than mean to refuse another what he ought to have; in fact
in such cases we think that any indefiniteness as to rights should
be practically removed by the decision of a judge or arbitrator. The
vice of meanness then is, we may say, bounded on the side of vice by
injustice: the mean man is blamed not for violation of Justice, but,
because he chooses a trifling gain to himself rather than the avoidance
of disappointment to others. And here, again, it should be observed,
an element not strictly moral is included in the common disapprobation
of meanness. For, as we have seen, a certain carelessness of money
is admired as a sign of power and superiority: and the opposite habit
is a symbol of inferiority. The mean man then is apt to be despised
as having the bad taste to show this symbol needlessly, preferring a
little gain to the respect of his fellow-men.
Meanness, however, has a wider sphere than Liberality, and refers not
merely to the taking or refusing of money, but to taking advantages
generally: in this wider sense the opposite virtue is Generosity.
In so far as the sphere of Generosity coincides with that of
Liberality, the former seems partly to transcend the latter, partly to
refer more to feelings than to outward acts, and to imply a completer
triumph of unselfish over selfish impulses. In the wider sense it
is strikingly exhibited in conflict and competition of all kinds.
Here it is sometimes called Chivalry. Reflection shows us that the
essence of this beautiful virtue is the realisation of Benevolence
under circumstances which make it peculiarly difficult and therefore
peculiarly admirable. For Generosity or Chivalry towards adversaries
or competitors seems to consist in showing as much kindness and regard
for their well-being as is compatible with the ends and conditions of
conflict: one prominent form of this being the endeavour to realise
ideal justice in these conditions, not merely by observing all the
rules and tacit understandings under which the conflict is conducted,
but by resigning even accidental advantages. Such resignation, however,
is not considered a strict duty: nor is there any agreement as to how
far it is right and virtuous; for what some would praise and approve,
others would regard as quixotic and extravagant.
To sum up, we may say that the terms Liberality and Generosity, so far
as they are strictly ethical, denote the virtue of Benevolence (perhaps
including Justice to some extent) as exhibited in special ways and
under special conditions. And the examination of the other minor social
virtues would evidently lead to similar general results: though it
might not always be easy to agree on their definitions.
FOOTNOTES:
[244] It is to be observed that men derive pleasure from the pains
and losses of others, in various ways, without the specific emotion
which I distinguish as malevolent affection: either (1) from the sense
of power exercised--which explains much of the wanton cruelty of
schoolboys, despots, etc.--or (2) from a sense of their own superiority
or security in contrast with the failures and struggles of others,
or (3) even merely from the excitement sympathetically caused by the
manifestation or representation of any strong feeling in others; a real
tragedy is interesting in the same way as a fictitious one. But these
facts, though psychologically interesting, present no important ethical
problems; since no one doubts that pain ought not to be inflicted from
such motives as these.
[245] Butler (Sermon VIII., _Upon Resentment_) recognises that
deliberate resentment “has in fact a good influence upon the affairs of
the world”; though “it were much to be wished that men would act from a
better principle.”
[246] If the amount at stake is such as to constitute a real sacrifice,
the conduct seems to be more than liberal, and (unless blamed as
extravagant) is rather praised as generous or highminded.