COURAGE, HUMILITY, ETC.
§ 1. Besides the Virtue of Purity, which we found it convenient
to discuss in the last chapter, there remain one or two prominent
excellences of character which do not seem to be commonly admired and
inculcated with any distinct reference either to private or to general
happiness; and which, though in most cases obviously conducive to
one or other of these ends, sometimes seem to influence conduct in a
direction at variance with them.
For example, Courage is a quality which excites general admiration,
whether it is shown in self-defence, or in aiding others, or even when
we do not see any benefit resulting from the particular exhibition of
it. Again, in Christian societies, Humility (if believed sincere) often
obtains unqualified praise, in spite of the loss that may evidently
result from a man’s underrating his own abilities. It will be well,
therefore, to examine how far in either case we can elicit a clear and
independent maxim defining the conduct commended under each of these
notions.
To begin with Courage. We generally denote by this term a disposition
to face danger of any kind without shrinking. We sometimes also call
those who bear pain unflinchingly courageous: but this quality of
character we more commonly distinguish as Fortitude. Now it seems
plain that if we seek for a definition of _strict duty_, as commonly
recognised, under the head either of Courage or of Fortitude, we can
find none that does not involve a reference to other maxims and ends.
For no one would say that it is our _duty_ to face danger or to bear
avoidable pain generally, but only if it meets us in the course of
duty.[252] And even this needs further qualification: for as regards
such duties as those (_e.g._) of general Benevolence, it would be
commonly allowed that the agent’s pain and danger are to be taken into
account in practically determining their extent: it would be held
that we are not bound to endure any pain except for the prevention
of manifestly greater pain to another, or the attainment of a more
important amount of positive good: nor to run any risk, unless the
chance of additional benefit to be gained for another outweighs the
cost and chance of loss to ourselves if we fail. Indeed it is doubtful
whether the common estimate of the duty of Benevolence could be said to
amount quite to this.[253]
When, however, we consider Courage as an Excellence rather than a duty,
it seems to hold a more independent position in our moral estimation.
And this view corresponds more completely than the other to the common
application of the notion; as there are many acts of courage, which are
not altogether within the control of the Will, and therefore cannot
be regarded as strict duties. For (1) danger is frequently sudden and
needs to be met without deliberation, so that our manner of meeting
it can only be semi-voluntary. And (2) though naturally timid persons
can perhaps with effort control fear as they can anger or appetite,
if time be allowed for deliberation, and can prevent it from taking
effect in dereliction of duty: still this result is not all that is
required for the performance of such courageous acts as need more than
ordinary energy--for the energy of the timid virtuous man is liable to
be exhausted in the effort to control his fear: _e.g._ in battle he can
perhaps stand still to be killed as well as the courageous man, but not
charge with the same impetuosity or strike with the same vigour and
precision.[254]
So far then as Courage is not completely voluntary, we have to consider
whether it is a desirable quality rather than whether we are strictly
bound to exhibit it. And here there seems no doubt that we commonly
find it morally admirable without reference to any end served by it,
and when the dangers which call it forth might be avoided without any
dereliction of duty. At the same time we call a man foolhardy who runs
unnecessarily into danger beyond a certain degree. Where then is the
limit to be fixed? On utilitarian principles we should endeavour to
strike as exact a balance as possible between the amount of danger
incurred in any case and the probable benefit of cultivating and
developing by practice a habit so frequently necessary for the due
performance of important duties. This will obviously give a different
result for different states of society and different callings and
professions; as most people need this instinctive courage less in
civilised societies than in semi-barbarous ones, and civilians less
than soldiers. Perhaps the instinctive admiration of mankind for acts
of daring does not altogether observe this limit: but we may say, I
think, that in so far as it attempts to justify itself on reflection,
it is commonly in some such way as this; and Common Sense does not seem
to point to any limit depending on a different principle.
§ 2. As the Virtue of Courage is prominent in Pagan ethics, and in
the Code of Honour which may be regarded as a sort of survival of the
pagan view of morality, so Humility especially belongs to the ideal
set before mankind by Christianity. The common account, however, of
this virtue is somewhat paradoxical. For it is generally said that
Humility prescribes a low opinion of our own merits: but if our merits
are comparatively high, it seems strange to direct us to have a low
opinion of them. It may be replied, that though our merits may be
high when compared with those of ordinary men, there are always some
to be found superior, and we can compare ourselves with these, and in
the extreme case with ideal excellence, of which all fall far short;
and that we ought to make this kind of comparison and not the other
kind, and contemplate our faults--of which we shall assuredly find
a sufficiency--and not our merits. But surely in the most important
deliberations which human life offers, in determining what kind of
work we shall undertake and to what social functions we shall aspire,
it is often necessary that we should compare our qualifications
carefully with those of average men, if we are to decide rightly. And
it would seem just as irrational to underrate ourselves as to overrate;
and though most men are more prone to the latter mistake, there are
certainly some rather inclined to the former.
I think that if we reflect carefully on the common judgments in which
the notion of Humility is used, we shall find that the quality commonly
_praised_ under this name (which is not always used eulogistically), is
not properly regulative of the opinions we form of ourselves--for here
as in other opinions we ought to aim at nothing but Truth--but tends
to the repression of two different seductive emotions, one entirely
self-regarding, the other relating to others and partly taking effect
in social behaviour. Partly, the Virtue of Humility is manifested in
repressing the emotion of self-admiration, which springs naturally from
the contemplation of our own merits, and as it is highly agreeable,
prompts to such contemplation. This admiring self-complacency is
generally condemned: but not, I think, by an intuition that claims
to be ultimate, as it is commonly justified by the reason that such
self-admiration, even if well-grounded, tends to check our progress
towards higher virtue. The mere fact of our feeling this admiration is
thought to be evidence that we have not sufficiently compared ourselves
with our ideal, or that our ideal is not sufficiently high: and it is
thought to be indispensable to moral progress that we should have a
high ideal and should continually contemplate it. At the same time,
we obviously need some care in the application of this maxim. For all
admit that self-respect is an important auxiliary to right conduct: and
moralists continually point to the satisfactions of a good conscience
as part of the natural reward which Providence has attached to virtue:
yet it is difficult to separate the glow of self-approbation which
attends the performance of a virtuous action from the complacent
self-consciousness which Humility seems to exclude. Perhaps we may say
that the feeling of self-approbation itself is natural and a legitimate
pleasure, but that if prolonged and fostered it is liable to impede
moral progress: and that what Humility prescribes is such repression
of self-satisfaction as will tend on the whole to promote this end. On
this view the maxim of Humility is clearly a dependent one: the end to
which it is subordinate is progress in Virtue generally. As for such
pride and self-satisfaction as are based not on our own conduct and its
results, but on external and accidental advantages, these are condemned
as involving a false and absurd view as to the nature of real merit.
But we not only take pleasure in our own respect and admiration,
but still more, generally speaking, in the respect and admiration
of others. The desire for this, again, is held to be to some extent
legitimate, and even a valuable aid to morality: but as it is a
dangerously seductive impulse, and frequently acts in opposition to
duty, it is felt to stand in special need of self-control. Humility,
however, does not so much consist in controlling this desire, as in
repressing the claim for its satisfaction which we are naturally
disposed to make upon others. We are inclined to demand from others
‘tokens of respect,’ some external symbol of their recognition of our
elevated place in the scale of human beings; and to complain if our
demands are not granted. Such claims and demands Humility bids us
repress. It is thought to be our duty not to exact, in many cases, even
the expression of reverence which others are strictly bound to pay.
And yet here, again, there is a limit, in the view of Common Sense,
at which this quality of behaviour passes over into a fault: for the
omission of marks of respect[255] is sometimes an insult which impulses
commonly regarded as legitimate and even virtuous (sense of Dignity,
Self-respect, Proper Pride, etc.) prompt us to repel. I do not,
however, think it possible to claim a _consensus_ for any formula for
determining this limit.
FOOTNOTES:
[252] In the case of pain which cannot be avoided we consider that
Fortitude will suppress outcries and lamentations: though in so far
as these relieve the sufferer without annoying others, the duty seems
doubtful.
[253] Cf. _ante_, chap. iv. § 5 of this Book.
[254] The above remarks apply in a less degree to the “moral courage”
by which men face the pains and dangers of social disapproval in
the performance of what they believe to be duty: for the adequate
accomplishment of such acts depends less on qualities not within the
control of the will at any given time.
[255] I do not refer to customary marks of respect for officials,
the omission of which would be a breach of established order; since
the special political reason for requiring these obviously takes the
question beyond the sphere of application of the Virtue of Humility.