Section I. is onPrudence, and is an elegant essay on thebeau idéalof the prudential character.Section II. considerscharacter as affecting other people. Chapter I. is a disquisition on the comparative priority of the objects of our regard. After self, which must ever have the first place, the members of our own family are recommended to our consideration. Remoter connexions of blood are more or less regarded according to the customs of the country; in pastoral countries clanship is manifested; in commercial countries distant relationship becomes indifferent. Official and business connexions, and the association of neighbourhood, determine friendships. Special estimation is a still preferable tie. Favours received determine and require favours in return. The distinction of ranks is so far founded in nature as to deserve our respect. Lastly, the miserable are recommended to our compassion. Next, as regards societies (Chap. II.), since our own country stands first in our regard, the author dilates on the virtues of a good citizen. Finally, although our effectual good offices may not extend beyond our country, our good-will may embrace the whole universe. This universal benevolence, however, the author thinks must repose on the belief in a benevolent and all-wise governor of the world, as realized, for example, in the meditations of Marcus Antoninus.
Section III. Of Self-command. On this topic the author produces a splendid moral essay, in which he describes the various modes of our self-estimation, and draws a contrast between pride and vanity. In so far as concerns his Ethical theory, he has still the same criterion of the virtue, the degree and mode commended by the impartial spectator.
On this we need only to remark that it is an interesting and valuable contribution to the history and the criticism of the Ethical systems.[23]
The Ethical theory of Adam Smith may be thus summed up:—
I.—The Ethical Standard is the judgment of an impartial spectator or critic; and our own judgments are derived by reference to what this spectator would approve or disapprove.
Probably to no one has this ever appeared a sufficient account of Right and Wrong. It provides against one defect, the self-partiality of the agent; but gives no account whatever of the grounds of the critic's own judgment, and makes no provision against his fallibility. It may be very well on points where men's moral sentiments are tolerably unanimous, but it is valueless in all questions where there are fundamental differences of view.
II.—In the Psychology of Ethics, Smith would consider the moral Faculty as identical with the power of Sympathy, which he treats as the foundation of Benevolence. A man is a moral being in proportion as he can enter into, and realize, the feelings, sentiments, and opinions of others.
Now, as morality would never have existed but for the necessity of protecting one human being against another, the power of the mind that adopts other people's interests and views must always be of vital moment as a spring of moral conduct; and Adam Smith has done great service in developing the workings of the sympathetic impulse.
He does not discuss Free-will. On the question of Disinterested Conduct, he gives no clear opinion. While denying that our sympathetic impulses are a refinement of self-love, he would seem to admit that they bring their own pleasure with them; so that, after all, they do not detract from our happiness. In other places, he recognizes self-sacrifice, but gives no analysis of the motives that lead to it; and seems to think, with many other moralists, that it requires a compensation in the next world.
III.—His theory of the constituents of Happiness is simple, primitive, and crude, but is given with earnest conviction. Ambition he laughs to scorn. 'What, he asks, can be added to the happiness of the man who is in health, out of debt, and has a clear conscience?' Again, 'the chief part of happiness consists in the consciousness of being beloved, hence, sudden changes of fortune seldom contribute to happiness.' But what he dwells upon most persistently, as the prime condition of happiness, is Contentment, and Tranquillity.
IV.—On the Moral Code, he has nothing peculiar. As to the means and inducements to morality, he does not avail himself of the fertility of his own principle of Sympathy. Appeals to sympathy, and the cultivation of the power of entering into the feelings of others, could easily be shown to play a high part in efficacious moral suasion.
V.—He affords little or no grounds for remarking on the connexion of Morality with Politics. Our duties as citizens are a part of Morality, and that is all.
VI.—He gives his views on the alliance of Ethics with Religion. He does not admit that we should refer to the Religious sanction on all occasions. He assumes a benevolent and all-wise Governor of the world, who will ultimately redress all inequalities, and remedy all outstanding injustice. What this Being approves, however, is to be inferred solely from the principles of benevolence. Our regard for him is to be shown, not by frivolous observances, sacrifices, ceremonies, and vain supplications, but by just and beneficent actions. The author studiously ignores a revelation, and constructs for himself a Natural Religion, grounded on a benevolent and just administration of the universe.
In Smith's Essay, the purely scientific enquiry is overlaid by practical and hortatory dissertations, and by eloquent delineations of character and of beau-ideals of virtuous conduct. His style being thus pitched to the popular key, he never pushes home a metaphysical analysis; so that even his favourite theme, Sympathy, is not philosophically sifted to the bottom.
The 'Observations on Man' (1749) is the first systematic effort to explain the phenomena of mind by the Law of Association. It contains also a philosophical hypothesis, that mental states are produced by thevibrationof infinitesimal particles of the nerves. This analogy, borrowed from the undulations of the hypothetical substance æther, has been censured as crude, and has been entirely superseded. But, although an imperfect analogy, it nevertheless kept constantly before the mind of Hartley the double aspect of all mental phenomena, thus preventing erroneous explanations, and often suggesting correct ones. In this respect, Aristotle and Hobbes are the only persons that can be named as equally fortunate.
The ethical remarks contained in the 'Observations,' relate only to the second head of summary, the Psychology of Ethics. We shall take, first, the account of disinterestedness, and, next, of the moral sense.
1.Disinterestedness. Under the nameSympathy, Hartley includes four kinds of feelings:—(1) Rejoicing at the happiness of others—Sociality, Good-will, Generosity, Gratitude; (2) Grieving for the misery of others—Compassion, Mercy; (3) Rejoicing at the misery of others—Anger, Jealousy, Cruelty, Malice; and (4) Grieving for the happiness of others—Emulation, Envy. All these feelings may be shown to originate in association. We select as examples of Hartley's method, Benevolence and Compassion. Benevolence is the pleasing affection that prompts us to act for the benefit of others. It is not a primitive feeling; but grows out of such circumstances as the following. Almost all the pleasures, and few, in comparison, of the pains, of children, are caused by others; who are thus, in the course of time, regarded with pleasure, independently of their usefulness to us. Many of our pleasures are enjoyed along with, and are enhanced by, the presence of others. This tends to make us more sociable. Moreover, we are taught and required to put on the appearance of good-will, and to do kindly actions, and this may beget in us the proper feelings. Finally, we must take into account the praise and rewards of benevolence, together with the reciprocity of benefits that we may justly expect. All those elements may be so mixed and blended as to produce a feeling that shall teach us to do good to others without any expectation of reward, even that most refined recompense—the pleasure arising from a beneficent act. Thus Hartley conceives that he both proves the existence of disinterested feeling, and explains the manner of its developement.
His account ofCompassionis similar. In the young, the signs and appearances of distress excite a painful feeling, by recalling their own experience of misery. In the old, the connexion between a feeling and its adjuncts has been weakened by experience. Also, when children are brought up together, they are often annoyed by the same things, and this tends powerfully to create a fellow-feeling. Again, when their parents are ill, they are taught to cultivate pity, and are also subjected to unusual restraints. All those things conspire to make children desire to remove the sufferings of others. Various circumstances increase the feeling of pity, as when the sufferers are beloved by us, or are morally good. It is confirmatory of this view, that the most compassionate are those whose nerves are easily irritable, or whose experience of affliction has been considerable.
2.—The Moral Sense. Hartley denies the existence of any moral instinct, or any moral judgments, proceeding upon the eternal relations of things. If there be such, let instances of them be produced prior to the influence of associations. Still, our moral approbation or disapprobation is disinterested, and has a factitious independence. (1) Children are taught what is right and wrong, and thus the associations connected with the idea of praise and blame are transferred to the virtues inculcated and the vices condemned. (2) Many vices and virtues, such as sensuality, intemperance, malice, and the opposites, produceimmediateconsequences of evil and good respectively. (3) The benefits, immediate or (at least) obvious, flowing from the virtues of others, kindle love towards them, and thereafter to the virtues they exhibit. (4) Another consideration is theloveliness of virtue, arising from the suitableness of the virtues to each other, and to the beauty, order, and perfection of the world. (5) The hopes and fears connected with a future life, strengthen the feelings connected with virtue. (6) Meditation upon God and prayer have a like effect. 'All the pleasures and pains of sensation, imagination, ambition (pride and vanity), self-interest, sympathy, and theopathy (affection towards God), as far as they are consistent with one another, with the frame of our natures, and with the course of the world, beget in us a moral sense, and lead us to the love and approbation of virtue, and to the fear, hatred, and abhorrence of vice. This moral sense, therefore, carries its own authority with it, inasmuch as it is the sum total of all the rest, and the ultimate result from them; and employs the whole force and authority of the whole nature of man against any particular part of it that rebels against the determinations and commands of the conscience or moral judgment.'
Hartley's analysis of the moral sense is a great advance upon Hobbes and Mandeville, who make self-love the immediate constituent, instead of a remote cause, of conscience. Our moral consciousness may thus be treated as peculiar and distinguishable from other mental states, while at the same time it is denied to be unique and irresolvable.
Reid's Ethical views are given in his Essays on the Active Powers of the Mind.
ESSAY III., entitled THE PRINCIPLES OF ACTION, contains (Part III.) a disquisition on theRational Principles of Actionas opposed to what Reid calls respectivelyMechanicalPrinciples (Instinct, Habit), andAnimalPrinciples (Appetites, Desires, Affections).
The Rational Principles of Action are Prudence, or regard to our own good on the whole, and Duty, which, however, he does not define by the antithetical circumstance—the 'good of others.' The notion of Duty, he says, is too simple for logical definition, and can only be explained by synonymes—what we oughtto do; what is fair and honest; what is approvable; the professed rule of men's conduct; what all men praise; the laudable in itself, though no man praise it.
Duty, he says, cannot be resolved into Interest. The language of mankind makes the two distinct. Disregard of our interest is folly; of honour, baseness. Honour is more than mere reputation, for it keeps us right when we are not seen. This principle of Honour (so-called by men of rank) is, in vulgar phrase, honesty, probity, virtue, conscience; in philosophical language, the moral sense, the moral faculty, rectitude.
The principle is universal in men grown up to years of understanding. Such a testimony as Hume's may be held decisive on the reality of moral distinctions. The ancient world recognized it in the leading terms,honestumandutile, &c.
The abstract notion of Duty is a relation between the action and the agent. It must be voluntary, and within the power of the agent. The opinion (or intention) of the agent gives the act its moral quality.
As to the Sense of Duty, Reid pronounces at once, without hesitation, and with very little examination, in favour of an original power or faculty, in other words, a Moral Sense. Intellectual judgments are judgments of the external senses; moral judgments result from an internal moral sense. The external senses give us our intellectual first principles; the moral sense our moral first principles. He is at pains to exemplify the deductive process in morals. It is a question of moral reasoning, Ought a man to have only one wife? The reasons are, the greater good of the family, and of society in general; but no reason can be given why we should prefer greater good; it is an intuition of the moral sense.
He sums up the chapter thus:—'That, by an original power of the mind, which we callconscience, or themoral faculty, we have the conceptions of right and wrong in human conduct, of merit and demerit, of duty and moral obligation, and our other moral conceptions; and that, by the same faculty, we perceive some things in human conduct to be right, and others to be wrong; that the first principles of morals are the dictates of this faculty; and that we have the same reason to rely upon those dictates, as upon the determinations of our senses, or of our other natural faculties.' Hamilton remarks that this theory virtually founds morality on intelligence.
Moral Approbation is the affection and esteem accompanying our judgment of a right moral act. This is in all cases pleasurable, but most so, when the act is our own. So, obversely, for Moral Disapprobation.
Regarding Conscience, Reid remarks, first, that like all other powers it comes to maturity by insensible degrees, and may be a subject of culture or education. He takes no note of the difficulty of determining what is primitive and what is acquired. Secondly, Conscience is peculiar to man; it is wanting in the brutes. Thirdly, it is evidently intended to be the director of our conduct; and fourthly, it is an Active power and an Intellectual power combined.
ESSAY IV. is OF THE LIBERTY OF MORAL AGENTS, which we pass by, having noticed it elsewhere. ESSAY V. is OF MORALS.
Then, again, good music and good cookery have the merit of utility, in procuring what is agreeable both to ourselves and to society, but they have never been denominated moral virtues; so that, if Hume's system be true, they have been very unfairly treated.
Reid illustrates his positions against Hume to a length unnecessary to follow. The objections are exclusively and effectively aimed at the two unguarded points of the Utility system as propounded by Hume; namely, first, the not recognizing moral rules as established and enforced among men by the dictation of authority, which does not leave to individuals the power of reference to ultimate ends; and, secondly, the not distinguishing between obligatory, and non-obligatory, useful acts.
Reid continues the controversy, with reference to Justice, in Chapter VI., on the Nature and Obligation of a Contract; and in Chapter VII. maintains, in opposition to Hume, that Moral approbation implies a Judgment of the intellect, and is not a mere feeling, as Hume seems to think. He allows the propriety of the phrase 'Moral Sentiment,' because 'Sentiment' in English means judgment accompanied with feeling. [Hamilton dissents, and thinks that sentiment means the higher feelings.] He says, if a moral judgment be no real judgment, but only a feeling, morals have no foundation but the arbitrary structure of the mind; there are no immutable moral distinctions; and no evidence for the moral character of the Deity.
We shall find the views of Reid substantially adopted, and a little more closely and concisely argued, by Stewart.
In his 'Essays on the Active Powers of the Mind,' Stewart introduces the Moral Faculty in the same way as Reid. BOOK SECOND is entitled OUR RATIONAL AND GOVERNING PRINCIPLES OF ACTION. Chapter I., on Prudence or Self-love, is unimportant for our present purpose, consisting of some desultory remarks on the connexion of happiness with steadiness of purpose, and on the meanings of the words 'self-love' and 'selfishness.'
Chapter II. is on the Moral Faculty, and is intended to show that it is an original principle of the mind. He first replies to the theory that identifies Morality with Prudence, or Self-love. His first argument is the existence in all languages of different words fordutyand forinterest. Secondly, The emotions arising from, the contemplation of right and wrong are different from those produced by a regard to our own happiness. Thirdly, although in most instances a sense of duty, and an enlightened regard to our own happiness, would suggest to us the same line of conduct, yet this truth is not obvious to mankind generally, who are incapable of appreciating enlarged views and remote consequences. He repeats the common remark, that we secure our happiness best by not looking to it as tho one primary end. Fourthly, moral judgments appear in children, long before they can form the general notion of happiness. His examples of this position, however, have exclusive reference to the sentiment of pity, which all moralists regard as a primitive feeling, while few admit it to be the same as the moral sense.
He then takes notice of the Association Theory of Hartley, Paley, and others, which he admits to be a great refinement of the old selfish system, and an answer to one of his arguments. He maintains, nevertheless, that the others are untouched by it, and more especially the third, referring to the amount of experience and reflection necessary to discover the tendency of virtue to promote our happiness, which is inconsistent with the early period when our moral judgments appear. [It is singular that he should not have remarked that the moral judgments of that early age, if we except what springs from the impulses of pity, are wholly communicated by others.] He quotes Paley's reasoning against the Moral Sense, and declares that he has as completely mis-stated the issue, as if one were to contend that because we are not born with the knowledge of light and colours, therefore the sense of seeing is not an original part of the frame. [It would be easy to retort that all that Paley's case demanded was the same power ofdiscriminationin moral judgments, as the power of discriminating light and dark belonging to our sense of sight.]
On the second point—the pleasure and pain accompanying right and wrong, he remarks on the one-sidedness of systems that treat the sense of right and wrong as an intellectual judgment purely (Clarke, &c.), or those that treat it as a feeling purely (Shaftesbury, Hutcheson, and Hume). His remarks on the sense of Merit and Demerit in the agent are trivial or commonplace.
'According to some systems, moral obligation is founded entirely on our belief that virtue is enjoined by the command of God. But how; it may be asked, does this belief impose an obligation? Only one of two answers can be given. Either that there is a moral fitness that we should conform our will to that of the Author and the Governor of the universe; or that a rational self-love should induce us, from motives of prudence, to study every means of rendering ourselves acceptable to the Almighty Arbiter of happiness and misery. On the first supposition We reason in a circle. We resolve our sense of moral obligation into our sense of religion, and the sense of religion into that of moral obligation.
'The other system, which makes virtue a mere matter of prudence, although not so obviously unsatisfactory, leads to consequences which sufficiently invalidate every argument in its favour. Among others it leads us to conclude, 1. That the disbelief of a future state absolves from all moral obligation, excepting in so far as we find virtue to be conducive to our present interest: 2. That a being independently and completely happy cannot have any moral perceptions or any moral attributes.
'But farther, the notions of reward and punishment presuppose the notions of right and wrong. They are sanctions of virtue, or additional motives to the practice of it, but they suppose the existence of some previous obligation.
'In the last place, if moral obligation be constituted by a regard to our situation in another life, how shall the existence of a future state be proved, or even rendered probable by the light of nature? or how shall we discover what conduct is acceptable to the Deity? The truth is, that the strongest presumption for such a state is deduced from our natural notions of right and wrong; of merit and demerit; and from a comparison between, these and the general course of human affairs.'
In a chapter (VII.) entitled 'certain principles co-operating with our moral powers,' he discusses (1) a regard to character, (2) Sympathy, (3) the Sense of the Ridiculous, (4) Taste. The important topic is the second, Sympathy; which, psychologically, he would appear to regard as determined by the pleasure that it gives. Under this head he introduces a criticism of the Ethical theory of Adam Smith; and, adverting to the inadequacy of the theory to distinguish therightfrom theactualjudgments of mankind, he remarks on Smith's ingenious fiction 'ofan abstract manwithin the breast;' and states that Smith laid much greater stress on this fiction in the last edition of the Moral Sentiments published before his death. It is not without reason that Stewart warns against grounding theories on metaphorical expressions, such as this of Smith, or the Platonic Commonwealth of the Soul.
In Book IV. of the Active Powers, Stewart discusses our Duties to Men,—both our fellow-creatures and ourselves. Our duties to our fellows are summed up in Benevolence, Justice, and Veracity. He devotes a chapter to each. In Chapter I., on Benevolence, he re-opens the consideration of the Ethical systems founded on Benevolence or Utility, and argues against them; but merely repeats the common-place objections—the incompetency of individuals to judge of remote tendencies, the pretext that would be afforded for the worst conduct, and each one's consciousness that a sense ofdutyis different from enlightened benevolence.
In Chapter III., on Veracity, he contends that considerations of utility do not account for the whole force of our approbation of this virtue. [So might any one say that considerations of what money can purchase do not account for the whole strength of avarice].
In Chapter IV. he deals with Duties to ourselves, and occupies the chapter with a dissertation on Happiness. He first gives an account of the theories of the Stoics and the Epicureans, which connect themselves most closely with the problem of Happiness; and next advances some observations of his own on the subject.
His first remark is on the influence of the Temper, by which he means the Resentful or Irascible passion, on Happiness. As against a censorious disposition, he sets up the pleasure of the benevolent sentiments; he enjoins candour with respect to the motives of others, and a devoted attachment to truth and virtue for their intrinsic excellence; and warns us, that the causes that alienate our affections from our fellow-creatures, suggest gloomy and Hamlet-like conceptions of the order of the universe.
He next adverts to the influence of the Imagination on Happiness. On this, he has in view the addition made to our enjoyments or our sufferings by the respective predominance of hope or of fear in the mind. Allowing for constitutional bias, he recognizes, as the two great sources of a desponding imagination, Superstition and Scepticism, whose evils he descants upon at length. He also dwells on the influence of casual associations on happiness, and commends this subject to the care of educators; giving, as an example, the tendency of associations with Greece and Rome to add to the courage of the classically educated soldier.
His third position is the Influence of our Opinions on Happiness. He here quotes, from Ferguson, examples of opinions unfavourable to Happiness; such as these: 'that happiness consists in having nothing to do,' 'that anything is preferable to happiness,' 'that anything can amuse us better than our duties.' He also puts forward as a happy opinion the Stoical view, 'I am in the station that God has assigned me.' [It must be confessed, however, that these prescriptions savour of the Platonic device of inculcating opinions, not because of their truth, but because of their supposed good consequences otherwise: a proceeding scarcely compatible with an Ethical system that proclaims veracity as superior to utility. On such a system, we are prohibited from looking to anything in an opinion but its truth; we are to suffer for truth, and not to cultivate opinions because of their happy results.]
Stewart remarks finally on the influence of the Habits, on which he notices the power of the mind to accommodate itself to circumstances, and copies Paley's observations on thesettingof the habits.
In continuation of the subject of Happiness, he presents a classification of our most important pleasures. We give the heads, there being little to detain us in the author's brief illustration of them. I.—The pleasures of Activity and Repose; II.—The pleasures of Sense; III.—The pleasures of the Imagination; IV.—The pleasures of the Understanding; and V.—The pleasures of the Heart, or of the various benevolent affections. He would have added Taste, or Fine Art, but this is confined to a select few.
In a concluding chapter (V.), he sums up the general result of the Ethical enquiry, under the title, 'the Nature and Essence of Virtue.' No observation of any novelty occurs in this chapter. Virtue is doing our duty; the intentions of the agent are to be looked to; the enlightened discharge of our duty often demands an exercise of the Reason to adjudge between conflicting claims; there is a close relationship, not defined, between Ethics and Politics.
The views of Stewart represent, in the chief points, although not in all, the Ethical theory that has found the greatest number of supporters.
I.—The Standard is internal, or intuitive—the judgments of a Faculty, called the Moral Faculty. He does not approve of the phrase 'Moral Sense,' thinking the analogy of the senses incorrect.
II.—As regards Ethical Psychology, the first question is determined by the remarks on the Standard.
On the second question, Free-will, Stewart maintains Liberty.
On the third question, he gives, like many others, an uncertain sound. In his account of Pity, he recognizes three things, (1) a painful feeling, (2) a selfish desire to remove the cause of the uneasiness, (3) a disposition grounded on benevolent concern about the sufferer. This is at best vague. Equally so is what he states respecting the pleasures of sympathy and benevolence (Book II., Chapter VII.). There is, he says, a pleasure attached to fellow-feeling, a disposition to accommodate our minds to others, wherever there is a benevolent affection; and, in all probability, the pleasure of sympathy is the pleasure of loving and of being beloved. No definite proposition can be gathered from such loose allegations.
III.—We have already abstracted his chapter on Happiness.
IV.—On the Moral Code, he has nothing peculiar.
V.—On the connexion with Religion, we have seen that he is strenuous in his antagonism to the doctrine of the dependence of morality on the will of God. But, like other moralists of the same class, he is careful to add:—'Although religion can with no propriety be considered as the sole foundation of morality, yet when we are convinced that God is infinitely good, and that he is the friend and protector of virtue, this belief affords the most powerful inducements to the practice of every branch of our duty.' He has (Book III.) elaborately discussed the principles of Natural Religion, but, like Adam Smith, makes no reference to the Bible, or to Christianity. He is disposed to assume the benevolence of the Deity, but considers that to affirm it positively is to go beyond our depth.
Brown's Ethical discussion commences in the 73rd of hisLectures. He first criticises the multiplicity of expressions used in the statement of the fundamental question of morals—'What is it that constitutes the actionvirtuous?' 'What constitutes themoral obligationto perform certain actions?' 'What constitutes themeritof the agent?'—These have been considered questions essentially distinct, whereas they are the very same question. There is at bottom but one emotion in the case, the emotion of approbation, or of disapprobation, of an agent acting in a certain way.
In answer then to the question as thus simplified, 'What is the ground of moral approbation and disapprobation?' Brown answers—a simple emotion of the mind, of which no farther explanation can be given than that we are so constituted. Thus, without using the same term, he sides with the doctrine of the Innate Moral Sense. He illustrates it by another elementary fact of the mind, involved in the conception of cause and effect on his theory of that relation—the belief that the future will resemble the past. Excepting a teleogical reference to the Supreme Benevolence of the Deity, he admits no farther search into the nature of the moral sentiment.
He adduces, as another illustration, what he deems the kindred emotion of Beauty. Our feeling of beauty is not the mere perception of forms and colours, or the discovery of the uses of certain combinations of forms; it is an emotion arising from these, indeed, bat distinct from them. Our feeling of moral excellence, in like manner, is not the mere perception of different actions, or the discovery of the physical good that these may produce; it is an emotionsui generis, superadded to them.
He adverts, in a strain of eloquent indignation, to the objection grounded on differences of men's moral judgment. There are philosophers, he exclaims, 'that can turn away from the conspiring chorus of the millions of mankind, in favour of the great truths of morals, to seek in some savage island, a few indistinct murmurs that may seem to be discordant with the total harmony of mankind.' He goes on to remark, however, that in our zeal for the immutability of moral distinctions, we may weaken the case by contending for too much; and proposes to consider the species of accordance that may be safely argued for.
He begins by purging away the realistic notion of Virtue, considered as a self-existing entity. He defines it—a term expressing the relation of certain actions to certain emotions in the minds contemplating them; its universality is merely co-extensive with these minds. He then concedes that all mankind do not, at every moment, feel precisely the same emotions in contemplating the same actions, and sets forth the limitations as follows;—
First, In moments of violent passion, the mind is incapacitated for perceiving moral differences; we must, in such cases appeal, as it were, from Philip drunk to Philip sober.
Secondly, Still more important is the limitation arising from the complexity of many actions. Where good and evil results are so blended that we cannot easily assign the preponderance, different men may form different conclusions. Partiality of views may arise from this cause, not merely in individuals, but in whole nations. The legal permission of theft in Sparta is a case in point. Theft, as theft, and without relation to the political object of inuring a warlike people, would have been condemned in Sparta, as well as with us. [The retort of Locke is not out of place here; an innate moral sentiment that permits a fundamental virtue to be set aside on the ground of mere state convenience, is of very little value.] He then goes on to ask whether men, in approving these exceptions to morality, approve them because they are immoral? [The opponents of a moral sense do not contend for animmoralsense.] Suicide is not commended because it deprives society of useful members, and gives sorrow to relations and friends; the exposure of infants is not justified on the plea of adding to human suffering.
Again, the differences of cookery among nations are much wider than the differences of moral sentiment; and yet no one denies a fundamental susceptibility to sweet and bitter. It is not contended that we come into the world with a knowledge of actions, but that we have certain susceptibilities of emotion, in consequence of which, it is impossible for us, in after life, unless from counteracting circumstances, to be pleased with the contemplation of certain actions, and disgusted with certain other actions. When the doctrine is thus stated, Paley's objection, that we should also receive from nature the notions of the actions themselves, falls to the ground. As well might we require an instinctive notion of all possible numbers, to bear out our instinctive sense of proportion.
A third limitation must be added, the influence of the principle of Association. One way that this operates is to transfer, to a whole class of actions, the feelings peculiar to certain marked individuals. Thus, in a civilized country, where property is largely possessed, and under complicated tenures, we become very sensitive to its violation, and acquire a proportionably intense sentiment of Justice. Again, association operates in modifying our approval and disapproval of actions according to their attendant circumstances; as when we extenuate misconduct in a beloved person.
The author contends that, notwithstanding these limitations, we still leave unimpaired the approbation of unmixed good as good, and the disapprobation of unmixed evil as evil. His further remarks, however, are mainly eloquent declamation on the universality of moral distinctions.
He proceeds to criticise the moral systems from Hobbes downwards. His remarks (Lecture 76) on the province of Reason in Morality, with reference to the systems of Clarke and Wollaston, contain the gist of the matter well expressed.
He next considers the theory of Utility. That Utility bears a certain relation to Virtue is unquestionable. Benevolence means good to others, and virtue is of course made up, in great part, of this. But then, if Utility is held to be themeasureof virtue, standing in exact proportion to it, the proposition is very far from true; it is only a small portion of virtuous actions wherein the measure holds.
He does not doubt that virtuous actions do all tend, in a greater or less degree, to the advantage of the world. But he considers the question to be, whether what we havealone in view, in approving certain actions, be the amount of utility that they bring; whether we have no other reason for commending a man than for praising a chest of drawers.
Consider this question first from the point of view of the agent. Does the mother, in watching her sick infant, think of the good of mankind at that moment? Is the pity called forth by misery a sentiment of the general good? Look at it again from the point of view of the spectator. Is his admiration of a steam-engine, and of an heroic human action, the same sentiment? Why do we not worship the earth, the source of all our utilities? The ancient worshippers of nature always gave it a soul in the first instance.
When the supporter of Utility arbitrarily confines his principles to the actions of living beings, he concedes the point in dispute; he admits an approvableness peculiar toliving and voluntary agents, a capacity of exciting moral emotions not commensurate with any utility. Hume says, that the sentiments of utility connected with human beings are mixed with affection, esteem, and approbation, which do not attach to the utility of inanimate things. Brown replies, that these are the very sentiments to be accounted for, the moral part of the case.
But another contrast may be made; namely, between the utility of virtue and the utility of talent or genius, which we view with very different and unequal sentiments; the inventors of the printing press do not rouse the same emotions as the charities of the Man of Ross.
Still, he contends, like the other supporters of innate moral distinctions, for a pre-established harmony between the two attributes. Utility and virtue are so intimately related, that there is perhaps no action generally felt by us as virtuous, but what is generally beneficial. But this is only discovered by reflecting men; it never enters the mind of the unthinking multitude. Nay, more, it is only the Divine Being that can fully master this relationship, or so prescribe our duties that they shall ultimately coincide with the general happiness.
He allows that the immediate object of thelegislatoris the general good; but then his relationship is to the community as a whole, and not to any particular individual.
He admits, farther, that the good of the world at large, if not theonlymoral object,isa moral object, in common with the good of parents, friends, and others related to us in private life. Farther, it may be requisite for the moralist to correct our moral sentiments by requiring greater attention to public, and less to private, good; but this does not alter the nature of our moral feelings; it merely presents new objects to ourmoral discrimination. It gives an exercise to our reason in disentangling the complicated results of our actions.
He makes it also an objection to Utility, that it does not explainwhywe feel approbation of the useful, and disapprobation of the hurtful; forgetting that Benevolence is an admitted fact of our constitution, and may fairly be assigned by the moralist as the source of the moral sentiment.
His next remarks are on the Selfish Systems, his reply to which is the assertion of disinterested Affections. He distinguishes two modes of assigning self-interest as the sole motive of virtuous conduct. First, it may be said that in every so-called virtuous action, we see some good to self, near or remote. Secondly, it may be maintained that we become at last disinterested by the associations of our own interest.
He calls in question this alleged process of association. Because a man's own cane is interesting to him, it does not follow that every other man's cane is interesting. [He here commits a mistake of fact; other men's walking canes are interesting to the interested owner of a cane. It may not follow that this interest is enough to determine self-sacrifice.]
It will be inferred that Brown contends warmly for the existence of Disinterested Affection, not merely as a present, but as a primitive, fact of our constitution. He does not always keep this distinct from the Moral Sentiment; he, in fact, mixes the two sentiments together in his language, a thing almost inevitable, but yet inconsistent with the advocacy of a distinct moral sentiment.
He includes among the Selfish Systems the Ethical Theory of Paley, which he reprobates in both its leading points—everlasting happiness as the motive, and the will of God as the rule. On the one point, this theory is liable to all the objections against a purely selfish system; and, on the other point, he makes the usual replies to the founding of morality on the absolute will of the Deity.
Brown next criticises the system of Adam Smith. Admitting that we have the sympathetic feeling that Smith proceeds upon, he questions its adequacy to constitute the moral sentiment, on the ground that it is not a perpetual accompaniment of our actions. There must be a certainvividnessof feeling or of the display of feeling, or at least a sufficient cause of vivid feeling, to call the sympathy into action. In the numerous petty actions of life, there is an absence of any marked sympathy.
But the essential error of Smith's system is, that it assumes the very moral feelings that it is meant to explain. If there were no antecedent moral feelings, sympathy could not afford them; it is only a mirror to reflect what is already in existence. The feelings that we sympathize with, are themselves moral feelings already; if it were not so, the reflexion of them from a thousand breasts would not give them a moral nature.
Brown thinks that Adam Smith was to some extent misled by an ambiguity in the word sympathy; a word applied not merely to the participation of other men's feelings, but to the further and distinct fact of theapprobationof those feeling's.
Although siding in the main with Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, Brown objects to their designation Moral Sense, as expressing the innate power of moral approbation. If 'Sense' be interpreted merely as susceptibility, he has nothing to say, but if it mean a primary medium of perception, like the eye or the ear, he considers it a mistake. It is, in his view, anemotion, like hope, jealousy, or resentment, rising up on the presentation of a certain class of objects. He farther objects to the phrase 'moral ideas,' also used by Hutcheson. The moral emotions are more akin to love and hate, than to perception or judgment.
Brown gives an exposition of Practical Ethics under the usual heads:Duties to Others, to God, to Ourselves. Duties to others he classifiesthus:—I.—Negative, or abstinence from injuring others in Person,Property, Affections, Character or Reputation, Knowledge (veracity),Virtue, and Tranquillity; II.Positive, or Benevolence; andIII.—Duties growing out of ourpeculiar ties—Affinity, Friendship,Good offices received, Contract, and Citizenship.
To sum up
I.—As regards the Standard, Brown contends for an Innate Sentiment.
II.—The Faculty being thus determined, along with the Standard, we have only to resume his views as to Disinterested action. For a full account of these, we have to go beyond the strictly Ethical lectures, to his analysis of the Emotions. Speaking of love, he says that it includes a desire of doing good to the person loved; that it is necessarily pleasurable because there must be some quality in the object that gives pleasure; but it is not the mere pleasure of loving that makes us love. The qualities are delightful to love, and yet impossible not to love. He is more explicit when he comes to the consideration of Pity, recognizing the existence of sympathy, not only without liking for the object, but with positive dislike. In another place, he remarks that we desire the happiness of our fellows simply as human beings. He is opposed to the theory that would trace our disinterested affections to a selfish origin. He makes some attempt to refer to the laws of Association, the taking in of other men's emotions, but thinks that there is a reflex process besides.
Although recognizing in a vague way the existence of genuine disinterested impulses, he dilates eloquently, and often, on the deliciousness of benevolence, and of all virtuous feelings and conduct.
The First Book of Paley's 'Moral and Political Philosophy' is entitled 'PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS' it is in fact an unmethodical account of various fundamental points of the subject. He begins by defining Moral Philosophy as 'that science which teaches men their duty, and the reasons of it. The ordinary rules are defective and may mislead, unless aided by a scientific investigation. These ordinary rules are the Law of Honour, the Law of the Land, and the Scriptures.
He commences with the Law of Honour, which he views in its narrow sense, as applied to people of rank and fashion. This is of course a very limited code.
The Law of the Land also must omit many duties, properly compulsory, as piety, benevolence, &c. It must also leave unpunished many vices, as luxury, prodigality, partiality. It must confine itself to offences strictly definable.
The Scriptures lay down general rules, which have to be applied by the exercise of reason and judgment. Moreover, they pre-suppose the principles of natural justice, and supply new sanctions and greater certainty. Accordingly, they do not dispense with a scientific view of morals.
[The correct arrangement of the common rules would have been (1) the Law of the Land, (2) the Laws of Society generally, and (3) the Scriptures. The Law of Honour is merely one application of the comprehensive agency of society in punishing men, by excommunication, for what it prohibits.]
Then follows his famous chapter on the MORAL SENSE.
It is by way of giving an effective statement of the point in dispute that he quotes the anecdote of Caius Toranius, as an extreme instance of filial ingratitude, and supposes it to be put to the wild boy caught in the woods of Hanover, with the view of ascertaining whether he would feel the sentiment of disapprobation as we do. Those that affirm an innate moral sense, must answer in the affirmative; those that deny it, in the negative.
He then recites the arguments on both sides.
For the moral sense, it is contended, that we approve examples of generosity, gratitude, fidelity, &c., on the instant, without deliberation and without being conscious of any assignable reason; and that this approbation is uniform and universal, the same sorts of conduct being approved or disapproved in all ages and countries; which circumstances point to the operation of an instinct, or a moral sense.
The answers to these allegations are—
First, TheUniformityspoken of is not admitted as a fact. According to the authentic accounts of historians and travellers, there is scarcely a single vice that, in some age or country of the world, has not been countenanced by public opinion. The murder of aged parents, theft, suicide, promiscuous intercourse of the sexes, and unmentionable crimes have been tolerated and approved. Among ourselves, Duelling is viewed with the most opposite sentiments; forgiveness of injuries is accounted by some people magnanimity, and by others meanness. In these, and in many other instances, moral approbation follows the fashions and institutions of the country, which institutions have themselves grown out of local circumstances, the arbitrary authority of some chieftain, or the caprice of the multitude.
Secondly, That, although, after allowing for these exceptions, it is admitted that some sorts of actions are more approved than others, the approbation being general, although not universal, yet this may be accounted for, without supposing a moral sense, thus:—
Having experienced a particular line of conduct as beneficial to ourselves, for example, telling the truth, a sentiment of approbation grows up in consequence, and this sentiment thereupon arises whenever the action is mentioned, and without our thinking of the consequences in each instance. The process is illustrated by the love of money, which is strongest in the old, who least of all think of applying it to its uses. By such means, the approval of certain actions is commenced; and being once commenced, the continuance of the feeling is accounted for by authority, by imitation, and by all the usages of good society. As soon as an entire society is possessed of an ethical view, the initiation of the new members is sure and irresistible. The efficacy of Imitation is shown in cases where there is no authority or express training employed, as in the likings and dislikings, or tastes and antipathies, in mere matters of indifference.
So much in reply to the alleged uniformity. Next come the positive objections to a Moral Instinct.
In the first place, moral rules are not absolutely and universally true; they bend to circumstances. Veracity, which is a natural duty, if there be any such, is dispensed with in case of an enemy, a thief, or a madman. The obligation of promises is released under certain circumstances.
In the next place, the Instinct must bear with it theideaof the actions to be approved or disapproved; but we are not born with any such ideas.
On the whole, either there exist no moral instincts, or they are undistinguishable from prejudices and habits, and are not to be trusted in moral reasonings. Aristotle held it as self-evident that barbarians are meant to be slaves; so do our modern slave-traders. This instance is one of many to show that the convenience of the parties has much to do with the rise of a moral sentiment. And every system built upon instincts is more likely to find excuses for existing opinions and practices than to reform either.
Again: supposing these Instincts to exist, what is their authority or power to punish? Is it the infliction of remorse? That may be borne with for the pleasures and profits of wickedness. If they are to be held as indications of the will of God, and therefore as presages of his intentions, that result may be arrived at by a surer road.
The next preliminary topic is HUMAN HAPPINESS.
Happiness is defined as the excess of pleasure over pain. Pleasures are to be held as differing only incontinuance, and inintensity. A computation made in respect of these two properties, confirmed by the degrees of cheerfulness, tranquillity, and contentment observable among men, is to decide all questions as to human happiness.
I.—What Human Happiness does not consist in.
Not in the pleasures of Sense, in whatever profusion or variety enjoyed; in which are included sensual pleasures, active sports, and Fine Art.
1st, Because they last for a short time. [Surely they are good for the time they do last.] 2ndly, By repetition, they lose their relish. [Intermission and variety, however, are to be supposed.] 3rdly, The eagerness for high and intense delights takes away the relish from all others.
Paley professes to have observed in the votaries of pleasure a restless craving for variety, languor under enjoyment, and misery in the want of it. After all, however, these pleasures have their value, and may be too much despised as well as too much followed.
Next, happiness does not consist in the exemption from pain (?), from labour, care, business, and outward evils; such exemption leaving one a prey to morbid depression, anxiety, and hypochondria. Even a pain in moderation may be a refreshment, from giving a stimulus to pursuit.
Nor does it consist in greatness, rank, or station. The reason here is derived, as usual, from the doctrine of Relativity or Comparison, pushed beyond all just limits. The illustration of the dependence of the pleasure of superiority on comparison is in Paley's happiest style.
II.—What happiness does consist in. Allowing for the great difficulties of this vital determination, he proposes to be governed by a reference to the conditions of life where men appear most cheerful and contented.
It consists, 1st, In the exercise of the social affections. 2ndly, The exercise of our faculties, either of body or of mind, in the pursuit of some engaging end. [This includes the two items of occupation and plot-interest.] 3rdly, Upon the prudent constitution of the habits; the prudent constitution being chiefly in moderation and simplicity of life, or in demanding few stimulants; and 4thly, In Health, whose importance he values highly, but not too highly.
The consideration of these negative and positive conditions, he thinks, justifies the two conclusions: (1) That happiness is pretty equally distributed amongst the different orders of society; and (2) That in respect of this world's happiness, vice has no advantage over virtue.
The last subject of the First Book is VIRTUE. The definition of virtue is 'the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness.'
If this were strictly interpreted according to its form, it would mean that three things go to constitute virtue, any one of which being absent, we should not have virtue. Doing good to mankind alone is not virtue, unless coupled with a divine requirement; and this addition would not suffice, without the farther circumstance of everlasting happiness as the reward. But such is not his meaning, nor is it easy to fix the meaning. He unites the two conditions—Human Happiness and the Will of the Deity—and holds them to coincide and to explain one another. Either of the two would be a sufficient definition of virtue; and he would add, as an explanatory proposition and a guide to practice, that the one may be taken as a clue to the other. In a double criterion like this, everything depends upon the manner of working it. By running from one of the tests to another at discretion, we may evade whatever is disagreeable to us in both.
In proceeding to supply this want, he asks first 'what is meant by being obliged to do a thing;' and answers, 'a violent motive resulting from the command of another.' The motive must be violent, or have some degree of force to overcome reluctance or opposing tendencies. It must also result from thecommandof another; not the mere offer of a gratuity by way of inducement. Such is the nature of Law; we should not obey the magistrate, unless rewards or punishments depended on our obedience; so neither should we, without the same reason, do what is right, or obey God.
He then resumes the general question, under a concrete case, 'Why am I obliged to keep my word?' The answer accords with the above explanation;—Because I am urged to do so by a violent motive (namely, the rewards and punishments of a future life), resulting from the command of God. Private happiness is the motive, the will of God the rule. [Although not brought out in the present connexion, it is implied that the will of God intends the happiness of mankind, and is to be interpreted accordingly.]
Previously, when reasoning on the means of human happiness, he declared it to be an established conclusion, that virtue leads to happiness, even in this life; now he bases his own theory on the uncertainty of that conclusion. His words are, 'They who would establish a system of morality, independent of a future state, must look out for some other idea of moral obligation,unless they can showthat virtue conducts the possessor to certain happiness in this life, or to a much greater share of it than he could attain by a different behaviour.' He does not make the obvious remark thathumanauthority, as far as it goes, is also a source of obligation; it works by the very same class of means as the divine authority.
He next proceeds to enquire into the means of determining the WILL OF GOD. There are two sources—the express declarations of Scripture, when they are to be had; and the design impressed on the world, in other words, the light of nature. This last source requires him, on his system, to establish the Divine Benevolence; and he arrives at the conclusion that God wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures, and accordingly, that the method of coming at his will concerning any action is to enquire into the tendency of that action to promote or to diminish the general happiness.
He then discusses UTILITY, with a view of answering the objection that actions may be useful, and yet such as no man will allow to be right. This leads him to distinguish between theparticularand thegeneralconsequences of actions, and to enforce the necessity of GENERAL RULES. An assassin, by knocking a rich villain on the head, may do immediate and particular good; but the liberty granted to individuals to kill whoever they should deem injurious to society, would render human life unsafe, and induce universal terror. 'Whatever is expedient is right,' but then it must be expedient on the whole, in the long run, in all its effects collateral and remote, as well as immediate and direct. When thehonestumis opposed to theutile, thehonestummeans the general and remote consequences, theutilethe particular and the near.
The concluding sections of Book II. are occupied with the consideration of RIGHT and RIGHTS. A Right is of course correlative with an Obligation. Rights are Natural or Adventitious; Alienable or Inalienable; Perfect or Imperfect. The only one of these distinctions having any Ethical application is Perfect and Imperfect. The Perfect Rights are, the Imperfect are not, enforced by Law.
Under the 'general Rights of mankind,' he has a discussion as to our right to the flesh of animals, and contends that it would be difficult to defend this right by any arguments drawn from the light of nature, and that it reposes on the text of Genesis ix. 1, 2, 3.
As regards the chief bulk of Paley's-work, it is necessary only to indicate his scheme of the Duties, and his manner of treating them.
The Ethical Theory of Paley may be briefly resumed thus:—
I.—The Ethical Standard with him is the conjoined reference to the Will of the Deity, and to Utility, or Human Happiness. He is unable to construct a scheme applicable to mankind generally, until they are first converted to a belief in Revelation.
II.—The Psychology implied in his system involves his most characteristic features.
1. He is unmistakeable in repudiating Innate Moral Distinctions, and on this point, and on this only, is he thoroughly at one with the Utilitarians of the present day.
2. On the Theory of Will he has no remarks. He has an utter distaste for anything metaphysical.
3. He does not discuss Disinterested Sentiment; by implication, he denies it. 'Without the expectation of a future existence,' he says, 'all reasoning upon moral questions is vain.' He cannot, of course, leave out all reference to generosity. Under 'Pecuniary Bounty' he makes this remark—'They who rank pity amongst the original impulses of our nature, rightly contend, that when this principle prompts us to the relief of human misery, it indicates the Divine intention and our duty. Whether it be an instinct or a habit (?), it is, in fact, a property of our nature, which God appointed, &c.' This is his first argument for charity; the second is derived from the original title of mankind, granted by the Deity, to hold the earth in common; and the third is the strong injunctions of Scripture on this head. He cannot, it seems, trust human nature with a single charitable act apart from the intervention of the Deity.
III.—He has an explicit scheme of Happiness.
IV.—The Substance of his Moral Code is distinguished from, the current opinions chiefly by his well-known views on Subscription to Articles. He cannot conceive how, looking to the incurable diversity of human opinion on all matters short of demonstration, the legislature could expect the perpetual consent of a body of ten thousand men, not to one controverted proposition, but to many hundreds.
His inducements to the performance of duty are, as we should expect, a mixed reference to Public Utility and to Scripture.
In the Indeterminate Duties, where men are urged by moral considerations, to the exclusion of legal compulsion, he sometimes appeals directly to our generous sympathies, as well as to self-interest, but usually ends with the Scripture authority.
V.—The relation of Ethics to Politics is not a prominent feature inPaley. He makes moral rules repose finally, not upon human, but uponDivine Law. Hence (VI.) the connexion of his system with Theology isfundamental.
The Ethical System of Jeremy Bentham is given in his work, entitled 'An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation,' first published in 1789. In a posthumous work, entitled Deontology, his principles were farther illustrated, chiefly with reference to the minor morals and amiable virtues.
It is the first-named work that we shall here chiefly notice. In it, the author has principally in view Legislation; but the same common basis, Utility, serves, in his judgment, for Ethics, or Morals.
The first chapter, entitled 'THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY,' begins thus:—'Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters,painandpleasure. It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do, as well as to determine what we shall do. On the one hand, the standard of right and wrong; on the other, the chain of causes and effects, are fastened to their throne. They govern us in all we do, in all we say, in all we think; every effort we can make to throw off our subjection will serve but to demonstrate and confirm it. In words a man may pretend to abjure their empire, but in reality he will remain subject to it all the while. Theprinciple of utilityrecognizes this subjection, and assumes it for the foundation of that system, the object of which is to rear the fabric of felicity by the hand of reason and of law. Systems which attempt to question it, deal in sounds instead of sense, in caprice instead of reason, in darkness instead of light.'
He defines Utility in various phrases, all coming to the same thing:—the tendency of actions to promote the happiness, and to prevent the misery, of the party under consideration, which party is usually the community where one's lot is cast. Of this principle no proof can be offered; it is the final axiom, on which alone we can found all arguments of a moral kind. He that attempts to combat it, usually assumes it, unawares. An opponent is challenged, to say—(1) if he discards it wholly; (2) if he will act without any principle, or if there is any other that he would judge by; (3) if that other be really and distinctly separate from utility; (4) if he is inclined to set up his own approbation or disapprobation as the rule; and if so, whether he will force that upon others, or allow each person to do the same; (5) in the first case, if his principle is not despotical; (6) in the second case, whether it is not anarchical; (7) supposing him to add the plea of reflection, let him say if the basis of his reflections excludes utility; (8) if he means to compound the matter, and take utility for part; and if so, for what part; (9) why he goes so far, with Utility, and no farther; (10) on what other principle a meaning can be attached to the words 'motiveandright.
In Chapter II., Bentham discusses the PRINCIPLES ADVERSE TO UTILITY. He conceives two opposing grounds. The first mode of opposition is direct and constant, as exemplified inAsceticism. A second mode may be only occasional, as in what he terms the principle ofSympathy and Antipathy(Liking and Disliking).