Chapter 30

52The virtue of Prudence might apparently have included Courage or Fortitude; we cannot be said to be prudent, if we are unable to face a certain amount of evil or danger, for the sake of a greater good. Doubtless, however, the author felt that Prudence does not suggest the full scope of so eminent a quality as Courage. The reasons of this are interesting to explore.Of various considerations that might be adduced, by far the most pertinent is the following. Courage, as a virtue esteemed and extolled in all ages, involves a certain amount of self-sacrifice. If it were limited to the control of the state of fear, so as to enable one never to fail in the pursuit of one’s own interest, by giving way to unreasonable alarms, it would be respected as a manifestation of strength, but it would not receive the warm admiration that we usually bestow upon courageous men. The nobility of courage is its devotedness. The courageous soldier is not he that maintains a post of apparent danger unmoved, knowing there is no real danger; which would be the prudent man’s courage. Something very different is exacted in return for the epithet “a brave man.”—B.

Of various considerations that might be adduced, by far the most pertinent is the following. Courage, as a virtue esteemed and extolled in all ages, involves a certain amount of self-sacrifice. If it were limited to the control of the state of fear, so as to enable one never to fail in the pursuit of one’s own interest, by giving way to unreasonable alarms, it would be respected as a manifestation of strength, but it would not receive the warm admiration that we usually bestow upon courageous men. The nobility of courage is its devotedness. The courageous soldier is not he that maintains a post of apparent danger unmoved, knowing there is no real danger; which would be the prudent man’s courage. Something very different is exacted in return for the epithet “a brave man.”—B.

Knowledge is, therefore, as necessary to the exercise of this virtue as to that of Prudence. Courage, in fact, is but a species of the acts of Prudence: a class selected for distinction by a particular name; that class, in which evils, of great magnitude, or rather of a particular description, are to be hazarded, for the sake of a preponderant good. But how is the284amount of the good, or of the evil, to be ascertained, but by that power of tracing the consequences of acts, for which the greatest knowledge, and the most accurate judgment, are required?

When, with the ideas of our acts of Prudence, and acts of Courage, past, and future, have been associated, sufficiently often, the classes of benefits which are the consequences of them, the Ideas of those acts are no longerSIMPLE IDEAS,INDIFFERENT IDEAS; they arePLEASURABLE IDEAS; that is,AFFECTIONS.

TheMOTIVE, in this case, presents a peculiarity, which requires attention. In the case of the Love of Wealth, Power, or Dignity, the Love of Individuals, the Love of Family, and all other causes of our Pleasures, we have uniformly found theAffectionto be one thing, theMotiveanother. TheAffectionconsisted of the association of the idea of the object as Cause, with that of our Pleasures as Effect. TheMotiveconsisted of the association of the idea of the object, as cause, with that of our pleasures, as effect, and the idea of an act of ours, as cause of that cause. When it is an act of our own, however, which is the cause of our Pleasure, there is no act of ours to be associated as cause of that cause. The285ideas of the act, and its consequences, are the Motive. TheMOTIVE, therefore, and theAFFECTION, are in this case the same.

The next two classes of acts are those to which the names, Justice, and Beneficence, have been applied. Taken together, they are the names of all those acts of a man, by which he does good to others. Out of these, the name Justice selects a particular class, and all the rest are Beneficence.

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 conformity with those rules are called Just Acts; and, when duly considered, they are seen to include the main portion of acts of beneficence in general; of those acts of ours, the immediate object of which is the good of others. To the performance of a certain portion of the acts of Justice, our Fellow-creatures compel us, by annexing penalties to the non-performance of them. A large portion, however, remain to be performed without compulsion.

Our Beneficent acts are either causes of pleasure to others immediately, or causes of the causes of their pleasures. The act of him who gives a cup of water to the thirsty traveller in the Desert, may be said to be cause of the pleasure of the Traveller. The act of him who instructs the Traveller, before he proceeds on his journey, where in the Desert water is to be found, is the cause of the cause of his Pleasure. To speak generally, all acts of ours, by which increase is imparted to the Wealth, Power, and Dignity of another person, and to the favourable disposition of286other persons towards him; or by which diminution of those advantages is prevented, are acts of Beneficence towards him.

It is easy to trace in what manner the ideas of those acts becomeAffections. In the first place, we have associations of pleasure with all the pleasurable feelings of a Fellow-creature. We have associations of pleasure, therefore, with those acts of ours which yield him pleasure. In the second place, those are the acts which procure to us one of the most highly valued of all the sources of our pleasures, the favourable Disposition of our Fellow-men. With our acts of Justice and Beneficence, therefore, we have associations of all the pleasures which the favourable disposition of other men towards us is calculated to produce. By those associations, the Idea of our own beneficent acts is no longer an INDIFFERENTIDEA; it becomes a PLEASURABLEIDEA, that is, an AFFECTION.53

53The affirmations in this paragraph require to be tested in the detail, in order to find out their limitations.That “we have associations of pleasure with all the pleasurable feelings of a Fellow-creature” is true in a great many instances. By the law of association, the signs of happiness tend to suggest the happy feelings themselves, and even to induce these to some extent upon the beholder. The sight of happy beings is a positive contribution to our own happiness; the obverse fact being equally well marked. We are delighted with the playful gambols of animals, and of children, and with the pleased expression of our fellow-creatures generally. On this ground, we have an interest in conferring happiness upon all our associates, and upon every one whose signs of pleasure and of displeasure come under our notice. Hence, in the absence of other motives, we are disposed to be the authors of pleasure, rather than of pain, wherever we go. Our first impulse towards a stranger would always be, from this consideration, to confer some benefit or perform some agreeable act. From this origin, there flows a considerable fraction of the generosity and the courtesy of human beings.But the tendency is thwarted, and often extinguished, by other powerful impulses of the mind. There are two principal counteractives,—Rivalry in interests generally, and the Love of Power.If the expression of pleasure manifested by any sentient being, is procured at our expense, we fail to realise the happy feelings; we are, on the contrary, pained and embittered by the display. Now this is a fact of very frequent occurrence in all conditions of human beings; and, to the extent of its occurrence, it mars the strength and purity of the association.The Love of Power works in the same direction. It not only reconciles the mind to displays of pain, but it may render these a delight and luxury. Being an emotion little checked in ordinary human beings, it provides a considerable share of gratification, through the infliction of pain. This, therefore, is a second interference with the law that would connect the signs of happiness with a thrill of pleasure in the beholder. One can easily suppose, and one frequently finds, the emotion of power in such a pitch of development as to make the pleasure of seeing happy beings the exception, and not the rule.So much for the first of the two motives in the text. The second,—the procuring of reciprocal benefits by benefits conferred,—is everything that a motive can be. We are all our lives engaged in working out good for ourselves, and if, by doing good to others, we obtain a corresponding measure of our own advantage, we employ that instrumentality. But then the prospect must be clear; the instrument must be a promising one. Now there are some situations wherein we have a reasonable security of a return. When there is a legal guarantee, as in bargains, and in covenanted services, we are (as a rule) ready to fulfil our own share. Also, in very little things, such as the courtesies of civilised society, we contribute our part willingly; we are nearly sure of a full return for the trifling nature of the service. But there are multitudes of cases where (as we suppose) there would be no adequate return, or no return at all; all of which interfere with the growth of the association between benefits conferred and pleasure to ourselves.It is not necessary, in order to the pleasure of benevolence, that the return should be either in kind, or in flattery. If we can only obtain love for our benefits, we think them well bestowed. A great many benefits are conferred with no other view; and the appreciation of the extent of this motive is necessary to do justice to the author’s theory of the derivation of Benevolence from Prudence.It does not admit of question, that if all the services that each person is disposed to bestow, were fairly requited in kind, in praise, or in love, the motive to seek the good of others would have an overpowering strength of association, such as the author assigns to it. The finishing stroke, in all cases of strong and unremitted association,—the transfer to the means of the feeling originally due to the end, and even the sinking of the end out of view,—would be a sure result of the operation. But so partial, as human beings are now constituted, is the operation of the principle; so seldom are people satisfied, that they have the full equivalent of benefits imparted;—that, unless in select instances, there is as much of mistrust as of confidence and hope, in the reciprocation of services of any great magnitude. Of course, people will differ greatly in their estimate of this fact; but on no reasonable and candid calculation, is the association strong enough to account for the intensity and diffusion of disinterested impulses as actually found among mankind.—B.

53The affirmations in this paragraph require to be tested in the detail, in order to find out their limitations.

That “we have associations of pleasure with all the pleasurable feelings of a Fellow-creature” is true in a great many instances. By the law of association, the signs of happiness tend to suggest the happy feelings themselves, and even to induce these to some extent upon the beholder. The sight of happy beings is a positive contribution to our own happiness; the obverse fact being equally well marked. We are delighted with the playful gambols of animals, and of children, and with the pleased expression of our fellow-creatures generally. On this ground, we have an interest in conferring happiness upon all our associates, and upon every one whose signs of pleasure and of displeasure come under our notice. Hence, in the absence of other motives, we are disposed to be the authors of pleasure, rather than of pain, wherever we go. Our first impulse towards a stranger would always be, from this consideration, to confer some benefit or perform some agreeable act. From this origin, there flows a considerable fraction of the generosity and the courtesy of human beings.

But the tendency is thwarted, and often extinguished, by other powerful impulses of the mind. There are two principal counteractives,—Rivalry in interests generally, and the Love of Power.

If the expression of pleasure manifested by any sentient being, is procured at our expense, we fail to realise the happy feelings; we are, on the contrary, pained and embittered by the display. Now this is a fact of very frequent occurrence in all conditions of human beings; and, to the extent of its occurrence, it mars the strength and purity of the association.

The Love of Power works in the same direction. It not only reconciles the mind to displays of pain, but it may render these a delight and luxury. Being an emotion little checked in ordinary human beings, it provides a considerable share of gratification, through the infliction of pain. This, therefore, is a second interference with the law that would connect the signs of happiness with a thrill of pleasure in the beholder. One can easily suppose, and one frequently finds, the emotion of power in such a pitch of development as to make the pleasure of seeing happy beings the exception, and not the rule.

So much for the first of the two motives in the text. The second,—the procuring of reciprocal benefits by benefits conferred,—is everything that a motive can be. We are all our lives engaged in working out good for ourselves, and if, by doing good to others, we obtain a corresponding measure of our own advantage, we employ that instrumentality. But then the prospect must be clear; the instrument must be a promising one. Now there are some situations wherein we have a reasonable security of a return. When there is a legal guarantee, as in bargains, and in covenanted services, we are (as a rule) ready to fulfil our own share. Also, in very little things, such as the courtesies of civilised society, we contribute our part willingly; we are nearly sure of a full return for the trifling nature of the service. But there are multitudes of cases where (as we suppose) there would be no adequate return, or no return at all; all of which interfere with the growth of the association between benefits conferred and pleasure to ourselves.

It is not necessary, in order to the pleasure of benevolence, that the return should be either in kind, or in flattery. If we can only obtain love for our benefits, we think them well bestowed. A great many benefits are conferred with no other view; and the appreciation of the extent of this motive is necessary to do justice to the author’s theory of the derivation of Benevolence from Prudence.

It does not admit of question, that if all the services that each person is disposed to bestow, were fairly requited in kind, in praise, or in love, the motive to seek the good of others would have an overpowering strength of association, such as the author assigns to it. The finishing stroke, in all cases of strong and unremitted association,—the transfer to the means of the feeling originally due to the end, and even the sinking of the end out of view,—would be a sure result of the operation. But so partial, as human beings are now constituted, is the operation of the principle; so seldom are people satisfied, that they have the full equivalent of benefits imparted;—that, unless in select instances, there is as much of mistrust as of confidence and hope, in the reciprocation of services of any great magnitude. Of course, people will differ greatly in their estimate of this fact; but on no reasonable and candid calculation, is the association strong enough to account for the intensity and diffusion of disinterested impulses as actually found among mankind.—B.

287Pleasurable ideas, as effects, associated with acts of our own as the cause, constitute theMOTIVE, as well as theAFFECTION. The reason of this, we have just stated, and need not repeat.

We have now seen by what associations bothAFFECTION, andMOTIVEare created, in the case of our own acts of Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, and Beneficence. The DISPOSITION, as in all other cases, consists in a facility, from habit, of performing the associations; in other words, a readiness of obeying the Motive.

In each of the cases, the Affection, the Motive, and the Disposition, have the same name. Thus, Prudence is the name of the Affection, and Motive, and also of the Disposition, to acts of Prudence; so is Fortitude, Justice, and Beneficence, each in regard to its own class of acts.

Beside the four specific names, Prudence, Fortitude,288Justice, and Beneficence, we have a Generical Name, which includes them all. VIRTUEis the name of Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, and Beneficence, all taken together. It is also, like the name of each of the species included under it, at once the name of the Affection, the Motive, and the Disposition. The man who has the Disposition toward all the four, Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, Beneficence, in full strength; that is, who has acquired, from habit, the facility of289associating with those acts the pleasures which result from them, in other words, a habit of obeying the motives, is perfectly virtuous.

It requires the most perfect education to create those associations adequately, in other words, to give the motives such power within us, that, when counteracted by other motives, they may always prevail. Under the present imperfect state of education, it is rather by their constant action, than their force, that they produce the very considerable effects, of which we see that they are the causes. In few men, are they a290match for any of the more potent motives; and, in most men, they give way, habitually, whenever they are opposed by any other motive even of moderate strength. There are so many occasions, however, in every part of our lives, for acts of virtue, when other motives do not intervene, that we may still ascribe to the motives of virtue, feeble as they generally are, a large portion of the happiness which we observe in the world.

2. Having considered the associations which each of us has with the ideas of his own acts of Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, and Beneficence, it remains that we consider the associations which each of us has with other men’s acts of Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, and Beneficence.

We have already observed, that the Prudence of other men is primarily useful to themselves, secondarily useful to others. A man who is to a certain degree imprudent, deprives himself of the power of being useful either to himself or to others. As we have agreeable associations with acts which produce pleasure to others, so we have agreeable associations with the cause of such acts, the power of producing them; and, of course, disagreeable associations with the acts which deprive a man of the means of doing good to others, and warding off evil from himself. It is not necessary to enter into a more minute analysis to show in what manner our Idea of another man’s Prudence becomes a Pleasurable Idea, in other words, an AFFECTION.

We next proceed to the case of Fortitude, Courage. We have seen that Fortitude is the name of that class of acts, in which a good is aimed at by the risk of a291great evil. There is a grand class of cases in which the good aimed at is not the peculiar good of the Individual or Individuals by whom the act, or series of acts, is performed, but a good common to others, to a whole People; as, for example, when another hostile People is encountered and overcome. Of course, in such a case, we have a strong association of our own pleasures, or exemption from pains, with other men’s courage, whether we are sharing with them in the danger, or exempted from it by their acts. This association is such as to constitute, and we know by experience does constitute, a very strong AFFECTION. Even when the good sought by the act of courage is only the good of the individual, we have a sufficient association with it of pleasurable ideas to constitute it an AFFECTION. We have, first of all, an agreeable association with the balance of good which the act is calculated to produce to the actor. And next we have a very powerful association of pleasure with the state of mind in which the Idea of a great evil is controlled by the Idea of a greater good. When the motive exists to do us good in a man who has such a mind, he will not be deterred by the prospect of an inadequate evil. When we encounter danger in company with such a man, we shall not be exposed to greater danger by his deserting us.

As other men’s acts of Justice and Beneficence are directly beneficial to them who are the objects of them, it is impossible that every man should not have pleasurable associations, first with the acts of Justice and Beneficence of the men, whose sphere of action extends to himself, and then with the acts of Justice and Beneficence of all men. And as the benefits which292spring from such actions are very great, the AFFECTION, generated by association of the Ideas of those Benefits, is proportionally strong.

Of all the MOTIVES, competent to our nature, those belonging to this class are by far the most important. As there is nothing in which I am so deeply interested, as that the acts of men, which regard myself immediately, should be acts of Justice and Beneficence, and those which regard themselves immediately, should be acts of Prudence and Fortitude, it follows, that I have an interest, proportionally deep, in all those acts of my own, which operate as causes of those acts in other people.

Of acts of other men, which are useful to us, a great number can be bought by wealth, or commanded by power, or elicited by dignity. The mode of the operation of those causes has already been explained, and the motives into the composition of which they enter, form a different class. The acts of beneficence, of justice, of fortitude, and of prudence, performed by other men in our behalf, are, to a vast extent, such as can neither be bought, nor commanded. What means have we of increasing to the utmost, the number of those acts; diminishing to the utmost, the number of those of an opposite tendency?

Those means are of two sorts: 1st, Similar actions on our part; 2dly, The manifestation on our part, of the disposition to perform similar actions.

1. It is interesting here to observe, by what a potent call we are summoned to Virtue. Of all that we enjoy, more is derived from those acts of other men, on which we bestow the name VIRTUE, than from any other cause. Our own virtue is the principal293cause why other men reciprocate the acts of virtue towards us. With the idea of our own acts of virtue, there are naturally associated the ideas of all the immense advantages we derive from the virtuous acts of our Fellow-creatures. When this association is formed in due strength, which it is the main business of a good education to effect, the motive of virtue becomes paramount in the human breast.

2. We strongly act upon other men, when we manifest on our parts, a disposition to perform acts in their favour, in consequence of the acts performed by them in favour of others. This disposition we manifest, when we praise those acts; or, as we otherwise phrase it, when we declare our approbation, or admiration, of them.

It is to be observed, that all our names for those acts;—Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, Beneficence, Virtue; are names of Praise. They are names, not merely of the acts, but of the acts associated with the ideas of the benefits resulting from them; and further associated with the idea of those acts of ours, which are the causes of such acts; acts of similar utility on our part to the Authors of the acts which are useful to us.

Praise, also, is extensive in its operation. The acts of any individual can afford a retribution for the virtuous acts of a very small number of men. HisPraisecan extend to all men; and its effects are most important. Not only does it indicate the affection of him who is the author of it, toward him who is the object; but it points out him who is the object of it, to all other men, as the proper object of a similar affection in them. This indication has some tendency294to propagate the favourable affection or disposition towards the object of the applause; but it has a much greater tendency to propagate the praise; and when praise is sounded from many lips, that is, when a disposition is expressed by many persons favourable to the man who has been the author of the applauded acts, a number of acts in his favour are the natural consequence.

That we have pleasurable associations of great potency, with this manifestation of the favourable disposition of others towards us, is matter of common and constant experience. It is called, in its more remarkable states, the LOVE OFFAME, and is known to operate as one of the most powerful motives in our nature. One of its cases is a remarkable exemplification of that high degree of association, which has been already explained, and to which we have frequently had occasion to advert, in explaining other phenomena; the degree which constitutes belief, and which gives to that belief, even when momentary, and instantly overruled by other associations, a powerful effect on our actions.

Not only that Praise of us, which is diffused in our lives, and from which agreeable consequences may arise to us, is delightful, by the associated ideas of the pleasures resulting from it; but that Praise, which we are never to hear, which will be diffused only when we are dead, and from which no actual effects can ever accrue to us, is often an object of intense affection, and acts as one of the most powerful motives in our nature.

The habit which we form, in the case of immediate praise, of associating the idea of the praise with the295idea of pleasurable consequences to ourselves, is so strong, that the idea of pleasurable consequences to ourselves becomes altogether inseparable from the idea of our Praise. It is one of those cases in which the one Idea never can exist without the other. The belief, thus engendered, is of course encountered immediately by other belief, that we shall be incapable of profiting by any consequences, which posthumous fame can produce: as the fear, that is, the belief of ghosts, in a man passing through a churchyard at midnight, may be immediately encountered by his settled, habitual belief that ghosts have no existence; and yet his terror, not only remains for a time, but is constantly renewed, as often as he is placed in circumstances with which he has been accustomed to associate the existence of ghosts.54

54The case here put, that of the desire of posthumous fame, affords no real support to the author’s doctrines, that a high degree of association constitutes belief, and that belief is always present when we are determined to action. The case is merely one of many others, in which something not originally pleasurable (the praise and admiration of our fellow-creatures) has become so closely associated with pleasure as to be at last pleasurable in itself. When it has become a pleasure in itself, it is desired for itself, and not for its consequences; and the most confirmed knowledge that it can produce no ulterior pleasurable consequences to ourselves will not interfere with the pleasure given by the mere consciousness of possessing it, nor hinder that pleasure from becoming, by its association with the acts which produce it, a powerful motive. It is a frequent mode of talking, to speak of the desire of posthumous fame in a kind of pitying way, as grounded on a delusion; as a desire which implies a certain infirmity of the understanding. Those who thus speak must be prepared to apply the same disparaging phrases to the interest taken in the welfare of others after our own death; for in that case also, no beneficial consequences to ourselves personally can ever follow from the realization of the object of our desire. But there is nothing at variance with reason in the associations which make us value for themselves, things which we at first cared for only as means to other ends; associations to which we are indebted for nearly the whole both of our virtues, and of our enjoyments. That he who acts with a view to posthumous fame has a belief, however momentary, that this fame will produce to him some extraneous good, or that he shall be conscious of it after he is dead, I shall not admit without better evidence than I have ever seen or heard of.—Ed.

296The operation of Dispraise is similar, to prevent the performance of acts contrary to Justice, Beneficence, Fortitude, and Prudence. Dispraise is the manifestation of a Disposition, unfavourable to the object of it, a disposition to abstain from acts useful to him, not to abstain from acts hurtful to him. It is not necessary to point out the associations formed in this case. It is a matter of common and constant experience, that we have associations of painful consequences, with the idea of the unfavourable disposition of our fellow-creatures, associations which constitute some of the most painful feelings of our nature. This it is, which is commonly expressed by the terms loss of reputation, loss of character, disgrace, infamy. In some instances, the Association rises to that remarkable case, which we have had frequent occasions of observing; when the means become a more important object than the end, the cause, than the effect. It not unfrequently happens, that the idea of the unfavourable sentiments of mankind, becomes more intolerable than all the consequences which could result from297them; and men make their escape from life, in order to escape from the tormenting idea of certain consequences, which, at most, would only diminish the advantages of living.55Nor is the Idea of posthumous Disgrace, less operative than that of posthumous Fame, and from the same species of association. In men, in whom the associations which constitute the pain of disgrace are strong; though not sufficiently strong to restrain them from deeds which incur the execration of mankind, the thought of what they have done is agonizing. Along with it, constantly rises up, before them, the idea of the condemnatory countenance, the condemnatory sentiment, the retributive acts, of every human being the idea of whom is presented to them. They are never at rest. The Idea of the horrid Deed or Deeds becomes associated with almost every point of their consciousness. At every moment, it rises up in their minds, and along with it the298overwhelming train of ideas, with which it is connected. In its more awful cases, this state of mind is called Remorse; and is generally regarded as the most perfect state of suffering to which a human Being is exposed.

55They do not seek death to escape from the idea of any consequences of the unfavourable sentiments of mankind. The mere fact of having incurred those unfavourable sentiments has become, by the adhesive force of association, so painful in itself, that death is sometimes preferred to it. There is often no thought of the consequences that may arise from the unfavourable sentiments; and when consequences are thought of, they are usually rather those which are mere demonstrations of feeling, and owe their painfulness to the sentiment of which they are demonstrations, than those which directly grate upon our senses or are injurious to our interests. It is true that a vague conception of the many unpleasant consequences liable to arise from the evil opinion of others, was the crude matter out of which the horror of the thing itself was primitively formed: but, once formed, it loses its connexion with its original source.—Ed.

The same considerations account for that remarkable phenomenon of our nature, eloquently described, but not explained, by Adam Smith, that, in minds happily trained, the love of Praiseworthiness, the dread of Blameworthiness, is a stronger feeling, than the love of actual Praise, the Dread of actual Blame. It is one of those cases, in which, by the power of the association, the secondary feeling becomes more powerful than the primary. In all men, the idea of praise, as consequent, is associated with the idea of certain acts of theirs, as antecedent; the idea of blame, as consequent, with the idea of certain acts of theirs, as antecedent. This association constitutes what we call the feeling, or notion, or sentiment, or idea (for it goes by all those names), of Praiseworthiness, and Blameworthiness.56The anticipation, in the one case, is delightful; in the other painful. The association299exists in different men, in all possible degrees of strength. In some men it exists in so great a degree of strength, that not only, the pleasure of immediate praise, the pain of immediate blame, but every other feeling of their nature, is subdued by it.

56This paragraph, unexplained, might give the idea that the author regarded praiseworthiness and blameworthiness as having the meaning not of deserving praise or blame, but merely of being likely to obtain it. But what he meant is, that the idea of deserving praise is but a more complex form of the association between our own or another person’s acts or character, and the idea of praise. To deserve praise, is, in the great majority of the cases which occur in life, the principal mode of obtaining it; though the praise is seldom accurately proportioned to the desert. And the same may be said of blame. A powerful association is thus, if circumstances are favourable, generated between deserving praise and obtaining it; and hence between deserving praise, and all the pleasurable influences on our lives, of other people’s good opinion. And this association may become sufficiently strong to overcome the direct motive of obtaining praise, where it is to be obtained by other means than desert; the rather, as the desire of undeserved praise is greatly counteracted by the thought that people would not bestow the praise if they knew all. That what has now been stated was really the author’s meaning, is proved by his going on to say, that praiseworthiness and blameworthiness, as motives to action, have reference “not to what is, or to what shall be, but to what ought to be, the sentiments of mankind.”—Ed.

The case is perfectly analogous to that of the love of posthumous praise, the dread of posthumous blame, and is a still more important principle of action, as it has reference, not to what is, or to what shall be, but to what ought to be, the sentiments of mankind.

Such, then, are theAFFECTIONSwhich we bear toward the just, the beneficent, the courageous, the prudent acts of other men, and the contrary; that is, such are the associations we have with them of pleasurable or painful consequences. Such also are theMOTIVES; that is, the feelings generated by the association of certain acts of ours, as cause, with the virtuous acts of other men, as their effects.

Of thoseMOTIVES, that which involves the acts of praising and blaming, is in constant and strong300operation. It is from the great use made of those acts in the Education of children, and even in the rude management of them in the nursery, that praise and blame acquire the influence in most cases, the ascendancy in some, which they are seen to exercise over us. It is this sensibility to praise and blame, in other words, the associations we have with them, which gives its effect to what is called POPULAROPINION, or the POPULARSANCTION, and, when the acts of Justice, Beneficence, Fortitude, and Prudence of other men are the objects of it, the MORALSANCTION;Popular Opinion, being a phrase which expresses the Praise or Blame which the people bestow; and theSanctionbeing the good or evil consequences which men are accustomed to associate with that praise or blame.

In the present state of Education, the Praise and Blame of most men are very erroneously bestowed, with great precipitation, commonly in excess upon small occasions, with little regard to its justice; blame being very often inflicted where applause is due, and applause lavished where blame ought to be bestowed. When Education is good, no point of morality will be reckoned of more importance than the distribution of Praise and Blame; no act will be considered more immoral than the misapplication of them. They are the great instruments we possess for ensuring moral acts on the part of our Fellow-creatures; and when we squander away, or prostitute those great causes of virtue, and thereby deprive them of a great part of their useful tendency, we do what in us lies to lessen the quantity of Virtue, and thence of Felicity, in the world.

TheMOTIVES, which are generated by the301association of our own acts of Justice and Beneficence as cause with other men’s acts of Justice and Beneficence as effects, are subject, unhappily, to strong counteraction; because it rarely happens that we can perform acts of Justice and Beneficence without more or less sacrifice to ourselves. The association, at the same time, is strong, in all men. All men have the daily experience, that their own acts of Justice, and Beneficence, dispose other men to be Beneficent to them; their own acts of injustice and malevolence, dispose other men to bring evil (which in this case they call punishment) upon them; and to abstain from doing them good. This experience is of course followed by the usual association between cause and effect. The man who does acts of Justice and Beneficence, anticipates the favourable disposition of mankind, as their natural effect; and this association is his belief, or conviction, or sense (he calls it by all those names), of deserving the favourable sentiments of mankind. The man, on the other hand, who performs acts which are unjust and hurtful to others, anticipates the unfavourable and hostile sentiments of mankind, as the natural consequents of his acts; in other words, has the belief, or conviction, or sense (for the association in this case also has these various names), of deserving, not well, but ill, at the hands of other men.

There are no men, however vicious, in whom those associations do not produce constant and numerous effects. When they have not been happily cultivated, and when the counteracting associations, of which we just now made mention, have been allowed to acquire a mischievous strength; acts in opposition to them302are, occasionally, but, even in the worst men, no more than occasionally, produced.

This anticipation of the hostile, or benevolent sentiments of mankind, as the natural effects of actions of a certain description on our part, is the foundation of that remarkable association of which we had very recently occasion to make mention, the association which Dr. Smith has called the love of Praiseworthiness, and which is sometimes found to be much more powerful than the love of actual Praise.

TheDISPOSITIONwhich corresponds to thoseMOTIVES, or the facility of forming the associations which constitute them, is the result of habit in this as in all other cases.

TheAFFECTION, in this case, has the name ofMoral approbationandDisapprobation. The same is the only name we have for theMOTIVE. It is also the only name we have for theDISPOSITION. The terms Moral Sense; Sense of Right and Wrong; Love of Virtue, and Hatred of Vice, are sometimes used as synonymous terms; but they are not equally appropriate. Virtue, as we have seen, is a name which is given to each of the three, the Affection, the Motive, the Disposition; Morality is a name which is applied with similar latitude.5758

57The foregoing analysis of the Moral Sentiment proceeds upon a number of unquestionable psychological data. That we have a strong personal interest in the virtues of Prudence, Fortitude, Justice and Beneficence, in the manner stated, is most certain; and that this personal interest will incline us to practise those virtues ourselves, and to encourage them in303others, is also certain. The only doubt is, as to whether the motives to rectitude of action are exhausted in this analysis.The sufficiency of an analysis is less easily tested in mental phenomena, than in physical phenomena. The chief reason is that, in the mind, we cannot make exact numerical estimates; and, therefore, cannot show, by castings up a sum, that the assigned constituents of a compound exactly amount to the total. The several constituents put down may be actually present, without our being sure whether they are the whole. Hence the Deductive verification, so valuable in physical science, does not carry with it the same precision, in mental science.To evade this source of uncertainty we are thrown back upon the Experimental Canons, or the Four Methods. We know by these, that if an analysis is good, there must be present in each instance of the phenomenon the causes assigned, one or more; and should one exist in a low degree, or be entirely wanting, the others must have a compensating intensity. If, on the other hand, the whole of the causes have not been assigned, there will, almost inevitably, occur instances, either without the causes stated, or with these in an obviously insufficient amount.The following facts and considerations render doubtful the completeness of the author’s explanation of the Moral Sentiment.The affirmation in the text is that not merely the self-regarding virtue—Prudence, but also the two great social virtues—Justice and Beneficence, are developed from associations with our own personal interest. In other words, they grow up exactly by the same course as the virtue of Prudence; they are strong as that happens to be strong, and weak as that happens to be weak; the most prudent man being the most just and beneficent man. This inference can be avoided only by drawing some distinction between the interested associations entering into prudence, and the interested associations entering into justice and beneficence; but no such distinction304is drawn in the foregoing chapter, at least in such a way as to meet the difficulty thus suggested.Now, on an appeal to the facts, we find that the virtue of prudence is not uniformly concomitant with the virtues of justice and beneficence; that, on the contrary, except in the more highly cultivated moral natures, they are frequently manifested in the inverse proportion. A human being, by cherishing interested associations, does not as a matter of course attain to either justice or beneficence. Even the most far-sighted prudence, as regards self, would not develop the whole virtue of justice, nor the whole virtue of beneficence. On the other hand, beneficence is often abundant and pronounced in cases where interested associations with self have been very slightly cultivated.The illustration of this generic discrepancy, between the author’s theory and the more obvious facts, might be extended. There is, however, another mode of proceeding, perhaps more decisive; that is, to show that the mind contains sources of the moral sentiment besides the associations with self-interest.It does not appear easy, at first sight, to establish the existence of purely disinterested impulses in our mental constitution; the admixture of self being so seldom unequivocally absent from human conduct. Still, if these impulses do exist, there will probably be found instances where they are manifested in convincing isolation.Perhaps the desired isolation is most readily afforded in some of the familiar forms of Pity. There are instances, no doubt, where pity may have a selfish motive, as when we compassionate the sufferings of parents, friends, and benefactors. But, in other instances, it arises not only without any selfish bearing, but in opposition to powerful associations of interest. The pity that we often extend to enemies and to criminals is a case in point. Even when the punishment of wrong-doers is bound up with our strongest interests, the spectacle of their sufferings often moves us to remit the punishment necessary for our own protection. Now, with beings made up of purely305interested considerations, theargumentum ad misericordiam, under those circumstances, would be void of effect.Another example is furnished by those acts of lavish generosity and charity that perhaps ruin the giver, and do harm to the recipient. If one’s moral education were exclusively conducted through the building up of associations with self, by what class of associating links is this impulse generated?It is no less difficult to account for the actions of men wholly devoted to philanthropy, like Howard. So very small is the result to self from the labours and sacrifices of such men, that we are unable to account for their motives without assuming an independent source of disinterested affections. The difficulty is greatly increased in the case of minds little cultivated, as in the heroic devotion of the common soldier.Observation of children reveals a specific power in the spectacle of misery or suffering to awaken pity and generous sympathies. The effective impulse to sympathy has little to do with a prudential education, or with the following out of self-interest in its associations with the welfare of others. The patriotic orator never trusts wholly to interested motives; he does not omit these; but he expects much from the lively description of suffering and misery to people generally; and if the picture comes home to the experience of his hearers, they will be moved by it, on account of each other, as well as on account of their separate selves.From such facts as these, it is admissible to lay down, as a general law, that the sight of misery in others prompts us, irrespective of our own interest, to enter into, and to relieve, that misery. This is the essential fact of Sympathy.The principle thus announced is not an ultimate law of the mind. It may be brought under a still higher law, of which some notice will be taken afterwards (seenoteon the Will, chap. XXIV.), namely, the tendency of every idea to act itself out, to become an actuality, not with a view to bring pleasure or to ward off pain—which is the proper description of the will—but from an independent prompting of the mind that often makes us throw away pleasure and embrace pain. The full306exposition of this principle would add greatly to the evidence for pure disinterested impulses, by showing that the fact described operates in a much wider sphere than the moral sentiment.On a survey of the different theories of the mental origin of Benevolent impulses, we may reduce them under the following heads.1. They have been ascribed to direct and immediate self-interest, either from the return of benefits in kind, or from the pleasure of praise and flattery. This is substantially the position of Mandeville.2. It is said we are so constituted that the sight of misery is a pain to us; and that we work to rid ourselves of that pain, as we should work to assuage thirst, to banish toothache, or to escape reproach. This view was held by Hobbes. It is forcibly brought in in the following anecdote recorded of him by Aubrey (Lives II. p. 623).“One time, I remember, goeing in the Strand, a poor and infirme old man begged his almes; he beholding him with eies of pitty and compassion, putt his hand in his pocket, and gave him 6d.; Sayd a divine [Dr. Jaspar Mayne] that stood by, ‘Would you have done this, if it had not been Christ’s Command?’ ‘Yea,’ sayd he: ‘Why?’ quoth the other; ‘Because,’ sayd he, ‘I was in paine to consider the miserable condition of the old man; and now my almes, giving him some relief, doth also ease me.’”There is a certain amount of truth in this statement; and taking the fact by itself, we might find some difficulty in drawing the line between a volition moved by our own pain, and the acting out of the idea of pain in favour of the sufferer. The best reply, perhaps, is to compare the amount of pain incurred and of pleasure remitted or sacrificed by the sympathiser, with the utmost value fairly ascribable to his own mental pain. The pain of misery witnessed is frequent and habitual, and although it has a certain depressing effect upon the mind, yet we should generally bear it much more easily than the pains of self-sacrifice it often incites us to.3073. We may be endowed with a positive susceptibility to pleasure from acts of kindness to others; so that in doing good, we are still moved in exact proportion to our own gratification. This expresses very nearly Bentham’s view of Disinterestedness; which, however, equally with the foregoing, comes short of the facts. Supposing some such pleasure to exist, no one could show that in degree it fully corresponds to the effects prompted by benevolent impulse.4.Habitsof acting in favour of others may be formed to such an extent, that our virtuous actions, begun under our own pleasures and pains, may at last cease to have any reference to those pleasures and pains. Here, also, the appeal is to an undeniable fact of our mental constitution. Actions that begin as proper voluntary actions—on the spur of pleasure and pain—often pass into a mechanical routine, and are persisted in even when they thwart our pleasures. Any one placed for a number of years in a position of danger, and habituated to troublesome precautions, is almost sure to keep up the same routine, after the occasion has ceased; mothers are liable to this unreasonable continuance of solicitude about their children. The application of the fact to moral education is of great moment. If the young are initiated betimes into a regard to the feelings and interests of others, they will grow up with a sort of mechanical unquestioning tendency towards the same line of conduct.These are the four different modes of stating the origin of disinterested conduct, apart from the assumption of a source of purely disinterested impulses in the constitution of the mind. Such a source has been indicated above, in what may be called the power of the “fixed idea,” having its seat in the region of the intellect, and operating to thwart the proper voluntary impulses, which are instigated by our pleasures and pains.—B.

The sufficiency of an analysis is less easily tested in mental phenomena, than in physical phenomena. The chief reason is that, in the mind, we cannot make exact numerical estimates; and, therefore, cannot show, by castings up a sum, that the assigned constituents of a compound exactly amount to the total. The several constituents put down may be actually present, without our being sure whether they are the whole. Hence the Deductive verification, so valuable in physical science, does not carry with it the same precision, in mental science.

To evade this source of uncertainty we are thrown back upon the Experimental Canons, or the Four Methods. We know by these, that if an analysis is good, there must be present in each instance of the phenomenon the causes assigned, one or more; and should one exist in a low degree, or be entirely wanting, the others must have a compensating intensity. If, on the other hand, the whole of the causes have not been assigned, there will, almost inevitably, occur instances, either without the causes stated, or with these in an obviously insufficient amount.

The following facts and considerations render doubtful the completeness of the author’s explanation of the Moral Sentiment.

The affirmation in the text is that not merely the self-regarding virtue—Prudence, but also the two great social virtues—Justice and Beneficence, are developed from associations with our own personal interest. In other words, they grow up exactly by the same course as the virtue of Prudence; they are strong as that happens to be strong, and weak as that happens to be weak; the most prudent man being the most just and beneficent man. This inference can be avoided only by drawing some distinction between the interested associations entering into prudence, and the interested associations entering into justice and beneficence; but no such distinction304is drawn in the foregoing chapter, at least in such a way as to meet the difficulty thus suggested.

Now, on an appeal to the facts, we find that the virtue of prudence is not uniformly concomitant with the virtues of justice and beneficence; that, on the contrary, except in the more highly cultivated moral natures, they are frequently manifested in the inverse proportion. A human being, by cherishing interested associations, does not as a matter of course attain to either justice or beneficence. Even the most far-sighted prudence, as regards self, would not develop the whole virtue of justice, nor the whole virtue of beneficence. On the other hand, beneficence is often abundant and pronounced in cases where interested associations with self have been very slightly cultivated.

The illustration of this generic discrepancy, between the author’s theory and the more obvious facts, might be extended. There is, however, another mode of proceeding, perhaps more decisive; that is, to show that the mind contains sources of the moral sentiment besides the associations with self-interest.

It does not appear easy, at first sight, to establish the existence of purely disinterested impulses in our mental constitution; the admixture of self being so seldom unequivocally absent from human conduct. Still, if these impulses do exist, there will probably be found instances where they are manifested in convincing isolation.

Perhaps the desired isolation is most readily afforded in some of the familiar forms of Pity. There are instances, no doubt, where pity may have a selfish motive, as when we compassionate the sufferings of parents, friends, and benefactors. But, in other instances, it arises not only without any selfish bearing, but in opposition to powerful associations of interest. The pity that we often extend to enemies and to criminals is a case in point. Even when the punishment of wrong-doers is bound up with our strongest interests, the spectacle of their sufferings often moves us to remit the punishment necessary for our own protection. Now, with beings made up of purely305interested considerations, theargumentum ad misericordiam, under those circumstances, would be void of effect.

Another example is furnished by those acts of lavish generosity and charity that perhaps ruin the giver, and do harm to the recipient. If one’s moral education were exclusively conducted through the building up of associations with self, by what class of associating links is this impulse generated?

It is no less difficult to account for the actions of men wholly devoted to philanthropy, like Howard. So very small is the result to self from the labours and sacrifices of such men, that we are unable to account for their motives without assuming an independent source of disinterested affections. The difficulty is greatly increased in the case of minds little cultivated, as in the heroic devotion of the common soldier.

Observation of children reveals a specific power in the spectacle of misery or suffering to awaken pity and generous sympathies. The effective impulse to sympathy has little to do with a prudential education, or with the following out of self-interest in its associations with the welfare of others. The patriotic orator never trusts wholly to interested motives; he does not omit these; but he expects much from the lively description of suffering and misery to people generally; and if the picture comes home to the experience of his hearers, they will be moved by it, on account of each other, as well as on account of their separate selves.

From such facts as these, it is admissible to lay down, as a general law, that the sight of misery in others prompts us, irrespective of our own interest, to enter into, and to relieve, that misery. This is the essential fact of Sympathy.

The principle thus announced is not an ultimate law of the mind. It may be brought under a still higher law, of which some notice will be taken afterwards (seenoteon the Will, chap. XXIV.), namely, the tendency of every idea to act itself out, to become an actuality, not with a view to bring pleasure or to ward off pain—which is the proper description of the will—but from an independent prompting of the mind that often makes us throw away pleasure and embrace pain. The full306exposition of this principle would add greatly to the evidence for pure disinterested impulses, by showing that the fact described operates in a much wider sphere than the moral sentiment.

On a survey of the different theories of the mental origin of Benevolent impulses, we may reduce them under the following heads.

1. They have been ascribed to direct and immediate self-interest, either from the return of benefits in kind, or from the pleasure of praise and flattery. This is substantially the position of Mandeville.

2. It is said we are so constituted that the sight of misery is a pain to us; and that we work to rid ourselves of that pain, as we should work to assuage thirst, to banish toothache, or to escape reproach. This view was held by Hobbes. It is forcibly brought in in the following anecdote recorded of him by Aubrey (Lives II. p. 623).

“One time, I remember, goeing in the Strand, a poor and infirme old man begged his almes; he beholding him with eies of pitty and compassion, putt his hand in his pocket, and gave him 6d.; Sayd a divine [Dr. Jaspar Mayne] that stood by, ‘Would you have done this, if it had not been Christ’s Command?’ ‘Yea,’ sayd he: ‘Why?’ quoth the other; ‘Because,’ sayd he, ‘I was in paine to consider the miserable condition of the old man; and now my almes, giving him some relief, doth also ease me.’”

There is a certain amount of truth in this statement; and taking the fact by itself, we might find some difficulty in drawing the line between a volition moved by our own pain, and the acting out of the idea of pain in favour of the sufferer. The best reply, perhaps, is to compare the amount of pain incurred and of pleasure remitted or sacrificed by the sympathiser, with the utmost value fairly ascribable to his own mental pain. The pain of misery witnessed is frequent and habitual, and although it has a certain depressing effect upon the mind, yet we should generally bear it much more easily than the pains of self-sacrifice it often incites us to.

3073. We may be endowed with a positive susceptibility to pleasure from acts of kindness to others; so that in doing good, we are still moved in exact proportion to our own gratification. This expresses very nearly Bentham’s view of Disinterestedness; which, however, equally with the foregoing, comes short of the facts. Supposing some such pleasure to exist, no one could show that in degree it fully corresponds to the effects prompted by benevolent impulse.

4.Habitsof acting in favour of others may be formed to such an extent, that our virtuous actions, begun under our own pleasures and pains, may at last cease to have any reference to those pleasures and pains. Here, also, the appeal is to an undeniable fact of our mental constitution. Actions that begin as proper voluntary actions—on the spur of pleasure and pain—often pass into a mechanical routine, and are persisted in even when they thwart our pleasures. Any one placed for a number of years in a position of danger, and habituated to troublesome precautions, is almost sure to keep up the same routine, after the occasion has ceased; mothers are liable to this unreasonable continuance of solicitude about their children. The application of the fact to moral education is of great moment. If the young are initiated betimes into a regard to the feelings and interests of others, they will grow up with a sort of mechanical unquestioning tendency towards the same line of conduct.

These are the four different modes of stating the origin of disinterested conduct, apart from the assumption of a source of purely disinterested impulses in the constitution of the mind. Such a source has been indicated above, in what may be called the power of the “fixed idea,” having its seat in the region of the intellect, and operating to thwart the proper voluntary impulses, which are instigated by our pleasures and pains.—B.

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