The author next examines theparticular lawsembodying justice and determining property. He supposes a creature, having reason, but unskilled in human nature, to deliberate with himself how to distribute property. His most obvious thought would be to give the largest possessions to the most virtuous, so as to give the power of doing good where there was the most inclination. But so unpracticable is this design, that although sometimes conceived, it is never executed; the civil magistrate knows that it would be utterly destructive of human society; sublime as may be the ideal justice that it supposes, he sets it aside on the calculation of its bad consequences.
Seeing also that, with nature's liberality, were all her gifts equally distributed, every one would have so good a share that no one would have a title to complain; and seeing, farther, that this is the only type of perfect equality or ideal justice—there is no good ground for falling short of it but the knowledge that the attempt would be pernicious to society. The writers on the Law of Nature, whatever principles they begin with, must assign as the ultimate reason of law the necessities and convenience of mankind. Uninstructed nature could never make the distinction betweenmineandyours; it is a purely artificial product of society. Even when this distinction is established, and justice requires it to be adhered to, yet we do not scruple in extraordinary cases to violate justice in an individual case for the safety of the people at large.
When the interests of society require a rule of justice, but do not indicate any rule in particular, the resort is to someanalogywith a rule already established on grounds of the general interest.
For determining what is a man's property, there may be many statutes, customs, precedents, analogies, some constant and inflexible, some variable and arbitrary, but all professedly terminating in the interests of human society. But for this, the laws of property would be undistinguishable from the wildest superstitions.
Such a reference, instead of weakening the obligations of justice, strengthens them. What stronger foundations can there be for any duty than that, without it, human nature could not subsist; and that, according as it is observed, the degrees of human happiness go on increasing?
Either Justice is evidently founded on Utility, or our regard for it is a simple instinct like hunger, resentment, or self-preservation. But on this last supposition, property, the subject-matter, must be also discerned by an instinct; no such instinct, however, can be affirmed. Indeed, no single instinct would suffice for the number of considerations entering into a fact so complex. To define Inheritance and Contract, a hundred volumes of laws are not enough; how then can nature embrace such complications in the simplicity of an instinct. For it is not laws alone that we must have, but authorized interpreters. Have we original ideas of prætors, and chancellors, and juries?
Instincts are uniform in their operation; birds of a species build their nests alike. The laws of states are uniform to about the same extent as houses, which must have a roof and walls, windows and chimneys, because the end in view demands certain essentials; but beyond these, there is every conceivable diversity.
It is true that, by education and custom, we blame injustice without thinking of its ultimate consequences. So universal are the rules of justice, from the universality of its end, that we approve of it mechanically. Still, we have often to recur to the final end, and to ask, What must become of the world if such practices prevail? How could society subsist under such disorders?
Thus, then, Hume considers that, by an inductive determination, on the strict Newtonian basis, he has proved that the SOLE foundation of our regard to justice is the support and welfare of society: and since no moral excellence is more esteemed, we must have some strong disposition in favour of general usefulness. Such a disposition must be a part of the humane virtues, as it is the SOLE source of the moral approbation of fidelity, justice, veracity, and integrity.
If men hadsagacityto perceive, andstrength of mindto follow out, distant and general interests, there had been no such thing as government. In other words, if government were totally useless, it would not be. The duty of Allegiance would be no duty, but for the advantage of it, in preserving peace and order among mankind.
[Hume is here supposing that men enter into society on equal terms; he makes no allowance for the exercise of the right of the stronger in making compulsory social unions. This, however, does not affect his reasoning as to the source of our approbation of social duty, which is not usually extended to tyranny.]
When political societies hold intercourse with one another, certain regulations are made, termed Laws of Nations, which have no other end than the advantage of those concerned.
The virtue of Chastity is subservient to the utility of rearing the young, which requires the combination of both parents; and that combination reposes on marital fidelity. Without such a utility, the virtue would never have been thought of. The reason why chastity is extended to cases where child-bearing does not enter, is thatgeneral rulesare often carried beyond their original occasion, especially in matters of taste and sentiment.
The prohibition of marriage between near relations, and the turpitude of incest, have in view the preserving of purity of manners among persons much together.
The laws of good manners are a kind of lesser morality, for the better securing of our pleasures in society.
Even robbers and pirates must have their laws. Immoral gallantries, where authorized, are governed by a set of rules. Societies for play have laws for the conduct of the game. War has its laws as well as peace. The fights of boxers, wrestlers, and such like, are subject to rules. For all such cases, the common interest and utility begets a standard of right and wrong in those concerned.
The deduction of morals from Self-Love is obvious, and no doubt explains much. An appeal to experience, however, shows its defects. We praise virtuous actions in remote ages and countries, where our own interests are out of the question. Even when we have a private interest in some virtuous action, our praise avoids that part of it, and prefers to fasten on what we are not interested in. When we hear of the details of a generous action, we are moved by it, before we know when or where it took place. Nor will the force of imagination account for the feeling in those cases; if we have an eye solely to our ownrealinterest, it is not conceivable how we can be moved by a mere imaginary interest.
But another view may be taken. Some have maintained that the public interest is our own interest, and is therefore promoted by our self-love. The reply is that the two are often opposed to each other, and still we approve of the preference of the public interest. We are, therefore, driven to adopt a more public affection, and to admit that the interests of society,on their own, account, are not indifferent to us.
Have we any difficulty to comprehend the force of humanity or benevolence? Or to conceive that the very aspect of happiness, joy, prosperity, gives pleasure; while pain, suffering, sorrow, communicate uneasiness? Here we have an unmistakeable, powerful, universal sentiment of human nature to build upon.
The author gives an expanded illustration of the workings of Benevolence or Sympathy, which well deserves to be read for its merits of execution. We must here content ourselves with stating that it is on this principle of disinterested action, belonging to our nature, that he founds the chief part of our sentiment of Moral Approbation.
He next considers the influence of bodily endowments and the goods of fortune as bearing upon the general question.
Even in animals, one great source ofbeautyis the suitability of their structure to their manner of life. In times when bodily strength in men was more essential to a warrior than now, it was held in so much more esteem. Impotence in both sexes, and barrenness in women, are generally contemned, for the loss of human pleasure attending them.
As regards fortune, how can we account for the regard paid to the rich and powerful, but from the reflexion to the mind of prosperity, happiness, ease, plenty, authority, and the gratification of every appetite. Rank and family, although they may be detached from wealth and power, had originally a reference to these.
In Section VII., Hume treats of QUALITIES IMMEDIATELY AGREEABLE TO OURSELVES. Under this head, he dilates on the influence of CHEERFULNESS, as a social quality: on GREATNESS OF MIND, or Dignity of Character; on COURAGE; on TRANQUILLITY, or equanimity of mind, in the midst of pain, sorrow, and adverse fortune; on BENEVOLENCE in the aspect of an agreeable spectacle; and lastly, on DELICACY of Taste, as a merit. As manifested to a beholder, all these qualities are engaging and admirable, on account of the immediate pleasure that they communicate to the person possessed of them. They are farther testimonies to the existence of social sympathy, and to the connexion of that with our sentiment of approbation towards actions or persons.
Another spring of our constitution, that brings a great addition of force to moral sentiment, is Love of Fame. The pursuit of a character, name, and reputation in the world, leads to a habit of surveying our own actions, begets a reverence for self as well as others, and is thus the guardian of every virtue. Humanity and Love of Reputation combine to form the highest type of morality yet conceived.
The nature of moralapprobationbeing thus solved, there remains the nature ofobligation; by which the author means to enquire, if a man having a view to his own welfare, will not find his best account in the practice of every moral virtue. He dwells upon the many advantages of social virtue, of benevolence and friendship, humanity and kindness, of truth and honesty; but confesses that the rule that 'honesty is the best policy' is liable to many exceptions. He makes us acquainted with his own theory of Happiness. How little is requisite to supply thenecessitiesof nature? and what comparison is there between, on the one hand, the cheap pleasures of conversation, society, study, even health, and, on the other, the common beauties of nature, with self-approbation; and the feverish, empty amusements of luxury and expense?
Thus ends the main treatise; but the author adds, in an Appendix, four additional dissertations.
The first takes up the question started at the outset, but postponed, how far our moral approbation is a matter ofreason, and how far ofsentiment. His handling of this topic is luminous and decisive.
If the utility of actions be a foundation of our approval of them,reasonmust have a share, for no other faculty can trace the results of actions in their bearings upon human happiness. In Justice especially, there are often numerous and complicated considerations; such as to occupy the deliberations of politicians and the debates of lawyers.
On the other hand, reason is insufficient of itself to constitute the feeling of moral approbation or disapprobation. Reason shows the means to an end; but if we are otherwise indifferent to the end, the reasonings fall inoperative on the mind. Here then asentimentmust display itself, a delight in the happiness of men, and a repugnance to what causes them misery. Reason teaches the consequences of actions; Humanity or Benevolence is roused to make a distinction in favour of such as are beneficial.
He adduces a number of illustrations to show that reason alone is insufficient to make a moral sentiment. He bids us examine Ingratitude, for instance; good offices bestowed on one side, ill-will on the other. Reason might say, whether a certain action, say the gift of money, or an act of patronage, was for the good of the party receiving it, and whether the circumstances of the gift indicated a good intention on the part of the giver; it might also say, whether the actions of the person obliged were intentionally or consciously hurtful or wanting in esteem to the person obliging. But when all this is made out by reason, there remains the sentiment of abhorrence, whose foundations must be in the emotional part of our nature, in our delight in manifested goodness, and our abhorrence of the opposite.
He refers to Beauty or Taste as a parallel case, where there may be an operation of the intellect to compute proportions, but where the elegance or beauty must arise in the region of feeling. Thus, whilereasonconveys the knowledge of truth and falsehood,sentimentor emotion must give beauty and deformity, vice and virtue.
Appendix No. II. is a discussion of SELF-LOVE. The author adverts first to the position that benevolence is a mere pretence, a cheat, a gloss of self-love, and dismisses it with a burst of indignation. He next considers the less offensive view, that all benevolence and generosity are resolvable in the last resort into self-love. He does not attribute to the holders of this opinion any laxity in their own practice of virtue, as compared with other men. Epicurus and his followers were no strangers to probity; Atticus and Horace were men of generous dispositions; Hobbes and Locke were irreproachable in their lives. These men all allowed that friendship exists without hypocrisy; but considered that, by a sort of mental chemistry, it might be made out self-love, twisted and moulded by a particular turn of the imagination. But, says Hume, as some men have not the turn of imagination, and others have, this alone is quite enough to make the widest difference of human characters, and to stamp one man as virtuous and humane, and another vicious and meanly interested. The analysis in no way sets aside the reality of moral distinctions. The question is, therefore, purely speculative.
As a speculation, it is open to these objections. (1) Being contrary to the unprejudiced notions of mankind, it demands some very powerful aid from philosophy. On the face of things, the selfish passions and the benevolent passions are widely distinguished, and no hypothesis has ever yet so far overcome the disparity as to show that the one could grow out of the other; we may discern in the attempts that love ofsimplicity, which has done so much harm to philosophy.
The Animals are susceptible of kindness; shall we then attribute to them, too, a refinement of self-interest? Again, what interest can a fond mother have in view who loses her health in attendance on a sick child, and languishes and dies of grief when relieved from the slavery of that attendance?
(2) But farther, the real simplicity lies on the side of independent and disinterested benevolence. There are bodily appetites that carry us to their objects before sensual enjoyment; hunger and thirst have eating and drinking for their end; the gratification follows, and becomes a secondary desire. [A very questionable analysis.] So there are mental passions, as fame, power, vengeance, that urge us to act, in the first instance; and when the end is attained, the pleasure follows. Now, as vengeance may be so pursued as to make us neglect ease, interest, and safety, why may we not allow to humanity and friendship the same privileges? [This is Butler, improved in the statement.]
Appendix III. gives some farther considerations with regard to JUSTICE. The point of the discussion is to show that Justice differs from Generosity or Beneficence in a regard to distant consequences, and to General Rules. The theme is handled in the author's usual happy style, but contains nothing special to him. He omits to state what is also a prime attribute of Justice, its being indispensable to the very existence of society, which cannot be said of generosity apart from its contributing to justice.
Appendix IV. is on some VERBAL DISPUTES. He remarks that, neither in English nor in any other modern tongue, is the boundary fixed between virtues and talents, vices and defects; that praise is given to natural endowments, as well as to voluntary exertions. The epithetsintellectualandmoraldo not precisely divide the virtues; neither does the contrast ofheadandheart; many virtuous qualities partake of both ingredients. So the sentiment ofconscious worth, or of its opposite, is affected by what is not in our power, as well as by what is; by the goodness or badness of our memory, as well as by continence or dissoluteness of conduct. Without endowments of the understanding, the best intentions will not procure esteem.
The ancient moralists included in the virtues what are obviously natural endowments. Prudence, according to Cicero, involved sagacity or powers of judgment. In Aristotle, we find, among the virtues, Courage, Temperance, Magnanimity, Modesty, Prudence, and manly Openness, as well as Justice and Friendship. Epictetus puts people on their guard against humanity and compassion. In general, the difference of voluntary and involuntary was little regarded in ancient ethics. This is changed in modern times, by the alliance of Ethics with Theology. The divine has put all morality on the footing of the civil law, and guarded it by the same sanctions of reward and punishment; and consequently must make the distinction of voluntary and involuntary fundamental.
Hume also composed a dialogue, to illustrate, in his light and easy style, the great variety, amounting almost to opposition, of men's moral sentiments in different ages. This may seem adverse to his principle of Utility, as it is to the doctrine of an Intuitive Sense of Right and Wrong. He allows, however, for the different ways that people may view Utility, seeing that the consequences of acting are often difficult to estimate, and people may agree in an end without agreeing in the means. Still, he pays too little attention to the sentimental likings and dislikings that frequently overbear the sense of Utility; scarcely recognizing it, except in one passage, where he dwells on the superstitions that mingle with a regard to the consequences of actions in determining right.
We shall now repeat the leading points of Hume's system, in the usual order.
I.—The Standard of Right and Wrong is Utility, or a reference to the Happiness of mankind. This is the ground, as wall as the motive, of moral approbation.
II.—As to the nature of the Moral Faculty, he contends that it is a compound of Reason, and Humane or Generous Sentiment.
He does not introduce the subject of Free-will into Morals.
He contends strongly for the existence of Disinterested Sentiment, or Benevolence; but scarcely recognizes it as leading to absolute and uncompensated self-sacrifice. He does not seem to see that as far as the approbation of benevolent actions is concerned, we are anything but disinterested parties. The good done by one man is done to some others; and the recipients are moved by their self-love to encourage beneficence. The regard to our own benefactor makes all benefactors interesting.
III.—He says little directly bearing on the constituents of Human Happiness; but that little is all in favour of simplicity of life and cheap pleasures. He does not reflect that the pleasures singled out by him are far from cheap; 'agreeable conversation, society, study, health, and the beauties of nature,' although not demanding extraordinary wealth, cannot be secured without a larger share of worldly means than has ever fallen to the mass of men in any community.
IV.—As to the substance of the Moral Code, he makes no innovations. He talks somewhat more lightly of the evils of Unchastity than is customary; but regards the prevailing restraints as borne out by Utility.
The inducements to virtue are, in his view, our humane sentiments, on the one hand, and our self-love, or prudence, on the other; the two classes of motives conspiring to promote both our own good and the good of mankind.
V.—The connexion of Ethics with Politics is not specially brought out. The political virtues are moral virtues. He does not dwell upon the sanctions of morality, so as to distinguish the legal sanction from the popular sanction. He draws no line between Duty and Merit.
VI.—He recognizes no relationship between Ethics and Theology. The principle of Benevolence in the human mind is, he thinks, an adequate source of moral approbation and disapprobation; and he takes no note of what even sceptics (Gibbon, for example) often dwell upon, the aid of the Theological sanction in enforcing duties imperfectly felt by the natural and unprompted sentiments of the mind.
Price's work is entitled, 'A Review of the principal questions inMorals; particularly those respecting the Origin of our Ideas ofVirtue, its Nature, Relation to the Deity, Obligation, Subject-matter,and Sanctions.' In the third edition, he added an Appendix on 'theBeing and Attributes of the Deity.'
The book is divided into ten chapters.
He commences by quoting Hutcheson's doctrine of a Moral Sense, which he describes as animplantedandarbitraryprinciple, imparting a relish or disrelish for actions, like the sensibilities of the various senses. On this doctrine, he remarks, the Creator might have annexed the same sentiments to the opposite actions. Other schemes of morality, such as Self-love, Positive Laws and Compacts, the Will of the Deity, he dismisses as not meeting the true question.
The question, as conceived by him, is, 'What is the power within us that perceives the distinctions of Right and Wrong?' The answer is, The UNDERSTANDING.
To establish this position, he enters into an enquiry into the distinct provinces of Sense and of Understanding in the origin of our ideas. It is plain, he says, that what judges concerning the perceptions of the senses, and contradicts their decisions, cannot itself be sense, but must be some nobler faculty. Likewise, the power that views and compares the objects of all the senses cannot be sense. Sense is a mere capacity of being passively impressed; it presentsparticularforms to the mind, and is incapable of discovering general truths. It is the understanding that perceives order or proportion; variety and regularity; design, connexion, art, and power; aptitudes, dependence, correspondence, and adjustment of parts to a whole or to an end. He goes over our leading ideas in detail, to show that mere sense cannot furnish them. Thus, Solidity, or Impenetrability, needs an exertion of reason; we must compare instances to know that two atoms of matter cannot occupy the same space.Vis Inerticæis a perception of the reason. So Substance, Duration, Space, Necessary Existence, Power, and Causation involve the understanding. Likewise, that all Abstract Ideas whatsoever require the understanding is superfluously proved. The author wonders, therefore, that his position in this matter should not have been sooner arrived at.
The tracing of Agreement and of Disagreement, which are functions of the Understanding, is really the source of simple ideas. Thus, Equality is a simple idea originating in this source; so are Proportion, Identity and Diversity, Existence, Cause and Effect, Power, Possibility and Impossibility; and (as he means ultimately to show) Right and Wrong.
Although the author's exposition is not very lucid, his main conclusion is a sound one. Sense, in its narrowest acceptation, gives particular impressions and experiences of Colour, Sound, Touch, Taste, Odour, &c. The Intellectual functions of Discrimination and Agreement are necessary as a supplement to Sense, to recognize these impressions as differing and agreeing, as Equal or Unequal; Proportionate or Disproportionate; Harmonious or Discordant. And farther, every abstract or general notion,—colours in the abstract, sweetness, pungency, &c.—supposes these, powers of the understanding in addition to the recipiency of the senses.
To apply this to Right and Wrong, the author begins by affirming [what goes a good way towards begging the question] that right and wrong are simple ideas, and therefore the result of animmediatepower of perception in the human mind. Beneficence and Cruelty are indefinable, and therefore ultimate. There must be some actions that are in the last resort an end in themselves. This being assumed, the author contends that the power of immediately perceiving these ultimate ideas is the Understanding. Shaftesbury had contended that, because the perception of right and wrong was immediate, therefore it must reside in a special Sense. The conclusion, thinks Price, was, to say the least of it, hasty; for it does not follow that every immediate perception should reside in a special sensibility or sense. He puts it to each one's experience whether, in conceiving Gratitude or Beneficence to be right, one feels a sensation merely, or performs an act of understanding. 'Would not a Being purely intelligent, having happiness within his reach, approve of securing it for himself? Would he not think this right; and would it not be right? When we contemplate the happiness of a species, or of a world, and pronounce on the actions of reasonable beings which promote it, that they areright, is this judging erroneously? Or is it no determination of the judgment at all, but a species of mental taste [as Shaftesbury and Hutcheson supposed]? [As against a moral sense, this reasoning may be effective; but it obviously assumes an end of desire,—happiness for self, or for others—and yet does not allow to that end any share in making up the sense of right and wrong.] Every one, the author goes on to say, must desire happiness for himself; and our rational nature thenceforth must approve of the actions for promoting happiness, and disapprove of the contrary actions. Surely the understanding has some share in the revulsion that we feel when any one brings upon himself, or upon others, calamity and ruin. A being flattered with hopes of bliss and then plunged into torments would complainjustly; he would consider that violence had been done to a perception of the humanunderstanding.
He next brings out a metaphysical difficulty in applying right and wrong to actions, on the supposition that they are mere effects of sensation. All sensations, as such, are modes of consciousness, or feelings, of a sentient being, and must be of a nature different from their causes. Colour is in the mind, not an attribute of the object; but right and wrong are qualities of actions, of objects, and therefore must be ideas, not sensations. Then, again, there can be nothing true or untrue in a sensation; all sensations are alike just; while the moral rectitude of an action is something absolute and unvarying. Lastly, all actions have a nature, or character; something truly belonging to them, and truly affirmable of them. If actions have no character, then they are all indifferent; but this no one can affirm; we all strongly believe the contrary. Actions are not indifferent. They are good or bad, better or worse. And if so, they are declared such by an act ofjudgment, a function of the understanding.
The author, considering his thesis established, deduces from it the corollary, that morality iseternal and immutable. As an object of the Understanding, it has an invariable essence. No will, not even Omnipotence, can makethingsother than they are. Right and wrong, as far as they express the real characters of actions, must immutably and necessarily belong to the actions. By action, is of course understood not a bare external effect, but an effect taken along with its principle or rule, the motives or reasons of the being that performs it. The matter of an action being the same, its morality reposes upon the end or motive of the agent. Nothing can be obligatory in us that was not so from eternity. The will of God could not make a thing right that was not right in its own nature.
The author closes his first chapter with a criticism of the doctrine of Protagoras—that man is the measure of all things—interpreting it as another phase of the view that he is combating.
Although this chapter is but a small part of the work, it completes the author's demonstration of his ethical theory.
The author now qualifies his doctrine by the remark, that to some superior beings the intellectual discernment may explain the whole of the appearances, but inferior natures, such as the human, are aided byinstinctive determinations. Our appetites and passions are too strong for reason by itself, especially in early years. Hence he is disposed to conclude that 'in contemplating the actions of moral agents, we have botha perception of the understandinganda feeling of the heart;'but that this feeling of the heart, while partly instinctive, is mainly a sense of congruity and incongruity in actions. The author therefore allows something to innate sense, but differs from Shaftesbury, who makes the whole a matter of intuitive determination.
He then starts another difficulty. May not our faculties be mistaken, or be so constituted as to deceive us? To which he gives the reply, made familiar to us by Hamilton, that the doubt is suicidal; the faculty that doubts being itself under the same imputation. Nay, more, a being cannot be made such as to be imposed on by falsehood; what is false is nothing. As to the cases of actual mistake, these refer to matters attended with some difficulty; and it does not follow that we must be mistaken in cases that are clear.
He concludes with a statement of the ultimate grounds of our belief. These are, (1) Consciousness or Feeling, as in regard to our own existence, our sensations, passions, &c.; (2) Intuition, comprising self-evident truths; and (3) Deduction, or Argumentation. He discusses under these the existence of a material world, and affirms that we have an Intuition that it ispossible.
The term Obligation is more perplexing. Still, it is but another name forRightness. What is Right is, by that very fact, obligatory. Obligation, therefore, cannot be the creature of law, for law may command what is morally wrong. The will of God enforced by rewards and punishments cannot make right; it would only determine what isprudent. Rewards and punishments do not make obligation, but suppose it. Rectitude is a LAW, the authoritative guide of a rational being. It is Supreme, universal, unalterable, and indispensable. Self-valid and self-originated, it stands on immovable foundations. Being the one authority in nature, it is, in short, the Divine authority. Even the obligations of religion are but branches of universal rectitude. The Sovereign Authority is not the mere result of his Almighty Power, but of this conjoined with his necessary perfections and infinite excellence.
He does not admit that obligation implies an obliger.
He takes notice of the objection that certain actions may be right, and yet we are not bound to perform them; such are acts of generosity and kindness. But his answer throws no farther light on his main doctrine.
In noticing the theories of other writers in the same vein, as Wollaston, he takes occasion to remark that, together with the perception of conformity or fitness, there is a simple immediate perception urging us to act according to that fitness, for which no farther reason can be assigned. When we compare innocence and eternal misery, we are struck with the idea of unsuitableness, and are inspired in consequence with intense repugnance.
He first quotes Butler to show that all virtue is not summed up in Benevolence; repeating that there is an intrinsic rectitude in keeping faith; and giving the usual arguments against Utility, grounded on the supposed crimes that might be committed on this plea. He is equally opposed to those that would deny disinterested benevolence, or would resolve beneficence into veracity. He urges against Hutcheson, that, these being independent and distinct virtues, a distinct sense would be necessary to each; in other words, we should, for the whole of virtue, need a plurality of moral senses.
His classification of Virtue comprehends (1) Duty to God, which he dilates upon at some length. (2) Duty to Ourselves, wherein he maintains that our sense of self-interest is not enough for us. (3) Beneficence, the Good of others. (4) Gratitude. (5) Veracity, which he inculcates with great earnestness, adverting especially to impartiality and honesty in our enquiries after truth. (6) Justice, which he treats in its application to the Rights of Property. He considers that the difficulties in practice arise partly from the conflict of the different heads, and partly from the different modes of applying the same principles; which he gives as an answer to the objection from the great differences of men's moral sentiments and practices. He allows, besides, that custom, education, and example, may blind and deprave our intellectual and moral powers; but denies that the whole of our notions and sentiments could result from education. No amount of depravity is able utterly to destroy our moral discernment.
To sum up the views of Price:—
I.—As regards the Moral Standard, he asserts that a perception of the Reason or the Understanding,—a sense of fitness or congruity between actions and the agents, and all the circumstances attending them,—is what determines Right and Wrong.
He finds it impracticable to maintain his position without sundry qualifications, as we have seen. Virtue is naturally adapted topleaseevery observing mind; vice the contrary. Right actions must begrateful, wrong ungrateful to us. Tobeholdvirtue is toadmireher. In contemplating the actions of moral agents, we havebotha perception of the understanding and a feeling of the heart. He thus re-admits an element of feeling, along with the intellect, in some undefined degree; contending only thatall moralityis not to be resolved into feeling or instinct. We have also noticed another singular admission, to the effect that only superior natures can discover virtue by the understanding. Reason alone, did we possess it in a high degree, would answer all the ends of the passions. Parental affection would be unnecessary, if parents were sufficiently alive to the reasons of supporting the young, and were virtuous enough to be always determined by them.
Utility, although not thesoleground of Justice, is yet admitted to beoneimportant reason or ground of many of its maxims.
II.—The nature of the Moral Faculty, in Price's theory, is not a separate question from the standard, but the same question. His discussion takes the form of an enquiry into the Faculty:—'What is the power within us that perceives the distinctions of Right and Wrong?' The two questions are mixed up throughout, to the detriment of precision in the reasoning.
With his usual facility of making concessions to other principles, he says it is not easy to determine how far our natural sentiments may be altered by custom, education, and example: while it would be unreasonable to conclude that all is derived from these sources. That part of our moral constitution depending on instinct is liable to be corrupted by custom and education to almost any length; but the most depraved can never sink so low as to lose all moral discernment, all ideas of just and unjust; of which he offers the singular proof that men are never wanting in resentment when they arethemselvesthe objects of ill-treatment.
As regards the Psychology of Disinterested Action, he provides nothing but a repetition of Butler (Chapter III.) and a vague assertion of the absurdity of denying disinterested benevolence.
III.—On Human Happiness, he has only a few general remarks. Happiness is an object of essential and eternal value. Happiness is theend, and theonlyend, conceivable by us, of God's providence and government; but He pursues this end in subordination to rectitude. Virtue tends to happiness, but does not always secure it. A person that sacrifices his life rather than violate his conscience, or betray his country, gives up all possibility of any present reward, and loses the more in proportion as his virtue is more glorious.
Neither on the Moral Code, nor in the relations of Ethics to Politics and to Theology, are any further remarks on Price called for.
The 'Theory of the Moral Sentiments' is a work of great extent and elaboration. It is divided into five Parts; each part being again divided into Sections, and these subdivided into Chapters.
Section II.is 'Of the Degrees of the different passions which are consistent with propriety.' Under this head he reviews the leading passions, remarks how far, and why, we can sympathize with each.
Section III. considersthe effects of prosperity and adversity upon the judgments of mankind regarding propriety of action.
Section I. is,Of the Sense of Merit and Demerit.
This view is in accordance with the course taken by the mind in the two contrasting situations. In sympathizing with the joy of a prosperous person, we approve of his complacent and grateful sentiment towards the author of his prosperity; we make his gratitude our own: in sympathizing with sorrow, we enter into, and approve of, the natural resentment towards the agent causing it.
Section II. isOf Justice and Beneficence.
Resentment, the source of punishment, is given for defence against positive evil; we employ it not to extort benefits, but to repel injuries. Now, the injury is the violation of Justice. The sense of mankind goes along with the employment of violence to avenge the hurt done by injustice, to prevent the injury, and to restrain the offender. Beneficence, then, is the subject of reward; and the want of it is not the subject of punishment. There may be cases where a beneficent act is compelled by punishment, as in obliging a father to support his family, or in punishing a man for not interfering when another is in danger; but these cases are immaterial exceptions to the broad definition. He might have added, that in cases where justice is performed under unusual difficulties, and with unusual fidelity, our disposition would be not merely to exempt from punishment, but to reward.
Every man is recommended by nature to his own care, being fitter to take care of himself than of another person. We approve, therefore, of each one seeking their own good; but then it must not be to the hurt of any other being. The primary feeling of self-preservation would not of itself, however, be shocked at causing injury to our fellows. It is when we pass out of this point of view, and enter into the mental state of the spectator of our actions, that we feel the sense of injustice and the sting of Remorse. Though it may be true that every individual in his own breast prefers himself to mankind, yet he dares not look mankind in the face, and avow that he acts on this principle. A man is approved when he outstrips his fellows in a fair race; he is condemned when he jostles or trips up a competitor unfairly. The actor takes home to himself this feeling; a feeling known as Shame, Dread of Punishment, and Remorse.
So with the obverse. He that performs a generous action can realize the sentiments of the by-stander, and applaud himself by sympathy with the approbation of the supposed impartial judge. This is the sense of Merit.
Section III.—Of the influence of Fortune upon the sentiments of mankind, with regard to the Merit and the Demerit of actions.
Every voluntary action consists of three parts:—(1) the Intention or motive, (2) the Mechanism, as when we lift the hand, and give a blow, and (3) the Consequences. It is, in principle, admitted by all, that only the first, the Intention, can be the subject of blame. The Mechanism is in itself indifferent. So the Consequences cannot be properly imputed to the agent, unless intended by him. On this last point, however, mankind do not always adhere to their general maxim; when they come to particular cases, they are influenced, in their estimate of merit and demerit, by the actual consequences of the action.
The author thinks (Chapter III.) that final causes can be assigned for this irregularity of Sentiments. In the first place, it would be highly dangerous to seek out and to resent mere bad intentions. In the next place, it is desirable that beneficent wishes should be put to the proof by results. And, lastly, as regards the tendency to resent evil, although unintended, it is good to a certain extent that men should be taught intense circumspection on the point of infringing one another's happiness.
To a solitary human being, moral judgments would never exist. A man would no more think of the merit and demerit of his sentiments than of the beauty or deformity of his own face. Such criticism is exercised first upon other beings; but the critic cannot help seeing that he in his turn is criticised, and he is thereby led to apply the common standard to his own actions; to divide himself as it were into two persons—the examiner or judge, and person examined into, or judged of. He knows what conduct of his will be approved of by others, and what condemned, according to the standard he himself employs upon others; his concurrence in this approbation or disapprobation is self-approbation or self-disapprobation. The happy consciousness of virtue is the consciousness of the favourable regards of other men.
To correct our self-partiality and self-deceit is the use of general rules. Our repeated observations on the tendency of particular acts, teach us what is fit to be done generally; and our conviction of the propriety of the general rules is a powerful motive for applying them to our own case. It is a mistake to suppose, as some have done, that rules precede experience; on the contrary, they are formed by finding from experience that all actions of a certain kind, in certain circumstances, are approved of. When established, we appeal to them as standards of judgment in right and wrong, but they are not the original judgments of mankind, nor the ultimate foundations of moral sentiment.
The first chapter is a pleasing essay on the influence of custom and fashion on manners, dress, and in Fine Art generally. The second chapter makes the application to our moral sentiments. Although custom will never reconcile us to the conduct of a Nero or a Claudius, it will heighten or blunt the delicacy of our sentiments on right and wrong. The fashion of the times of Charles II. made dissoluteness reputable, and discountenanced regularity of conduct. There is a customary behaviour that we expect in the old and in the young, in the clergyman and in the military man. The situations of different ages and countries develop characteristic qualities—endurance in the savage, humanity and softness in the civilized community. But these are not the extreme instances of the principle. We find particular usages, where custom has rendered lawful and blameless actions, that shock the plainest principles of right and wrong; the most notorious and universal is infanticide.