When we analyze the principles which distinguish man as a moral being, our attention is first directed to his actions, as the external phenomena by which we judge of his internal principles. It is familiar to every one, however, that the same action may proceed from very different motives, and that, when we have the means of estimating motives or principles, it is from these that we form our judgment respecting the moral condition of the individual, and not from his actions alone. When we consider separately the elements which enter into the economy of an intelligent and responsibleagent, they seem to resolve themselves into the following:—
I. His actual conduct, or actions.
II. In determining his conduct, the immediate principle is his will, or simple volition. He wills some act,—and the act follows of course, unless it be prevented by restraint from without, or by physical inability to perform it. These alone can interfere with a man following the determination of his will, or simple volition.
III. The objects of will or simple volition are referable to two classes,—objects to be obtained,—and actions to be performed to others;—and these are connected with two distinct mental conditions, which exist previously to the act of volition. In regard to objects to be obtained, this mental condition isDesire;—in regard to actions towards others, it isAffection. The Desires and Affections, therefore, hold a place in the mind previous to volition. From one of them originates the mental state which, under certain regulations, leadsto volition, or to our willing a certain act. The act, which is then the result of the volition, consists either in certain efforts towards attaining the object desired,—or in certain conduct towards other men, amusing out of our affections or mental feelings towards them. The Desires and Affections, therefore, may be considered as the primary or moving powers, from which our actions proceed. In connection with them we have to keep in view another principle, which has an extensive influence on our conduct in regard to both these classes of emotions. This isSelf-love;—which leads us to seek our own protection, comfort, and advantage. It is a sound and legitimate principle of action when kept in its proper place;—when allowed to usurp an undue influence, it degenerates into selfishness; and it then interferes in a material degree with the exercise of the affections, or, in other words, with our duty to other men.
IV. We have next to attend to the fact, that every desire is not followed by actual volition towards obtaining the object;—and that every affection does not lead to the conduct which mightflow from it. Thus a man may feel a desire which, after consideration, he determines not to gratify. Another may experience an affection, and not act upon it;—he may feel benevolence or friendship, and yet act, in the particular case, with cold selfishness;—or he may feel the impulse of anger, and yet conduct himself with forbearance. When, therefore, we go another step backwards in the chain of moral sequences, our attention is directed to certain principles by which the determination is actually decided,—either according to the desire or affection which is present to the mind, or in opposition to it. This brings us to a subject of the utmost practical importance:—and the principles, which thus decide the determination of the mind, are referable to two heads.
(1.) The determination or decision may arise out of a certain state of arrangement of the moving powers themselves, in consequence of which some one of them has acquired a predominating influence in the moral system. This usually results from habit, or frequent indulgence, as we shall see in a subsequent part of our inquiry. A man, for example, may desire an object, but perceive thatthe attainment would require a degree of exertion greater than he is disposed to devote to it. This is the preponderating love of ease, a branch of self-love. Another may perceive that the gratification would impair his good name, or the estimation in which he is anxious to stand in the eyes of other men;—this is the predominating love of approbation, or regard to character. In the same manner, a third may feel that it would interfere with his schemes of avarice or ambition,—and so in regard to the other desires. On a similar principle, a man may experience a strong impulse of anger, but perceive that there would be danger in gratifying it, or that he would promote his reputation or his interest by not acting upon it;—he may experience a benevolent affection, but feel that the exercise would interfere too much with his personal interest or comfort.
(2.) The determination may arise from a sense of duty, or an impression of moral rectitude, apart from every consideration of a personal nature. This is theMoral PrincipleorConscience;—in every mind in a state of moral health, it is the supreme and regulating principle, preserving amongthe moving powers a certain harmony to each other, and to the principles of moral rectitude. It often excites to conduct which requires a sacrifice of self-love, and so prevents this principle from interfering with the sound exercise of the affections. It regulates the desires, and restrains them by the simple rule of purity;—it directs and regulates the affections in the same manner by the high sense of moral responsibility; and it thus maintains order and harmony in the whole moral system.
One of the chief diversities of human character, indeed, arises from the circumstance of one man being habitually influenced by the simple and straight-forward principle of duty, and another merely by a kind of contest between desires and motives of a very inferior or selfish nature. Thus also we acquire a knowledge of the moral temperament of different men, and learn to adapt our measures accordingly in our transactions with them. In endeavouring, for example, to excite three individuals to some act of usefulness, we come to know, that in one we have only to appeal to his sense of duty; in another to his vanity or love ofapprobation; while we have no hope of making any impression on the third, unless we can make it appear to bear upon his interest.
V. The principles referred to under the preceding heads are chiefly those which regulate the connexion of man with his fellow-men. But there is another class of emotions, in their nature distinct from these; though, in a practical point of view, they are much connected. These are the emotions which arise out of his relation to the Deity. The regulation of the moral feelings, in reference to this relation, will therefore come to be considered in a department of the inquiry devoted to themselves, in connexion with the views of the character and attributes of God, which we obtain from the light of reason and conscience.
This analysis of the principles which constitute the moral feelings indicates the farther division of our inquiry in the following manner:—
I. The Desires,—the Affections,—and Self-love.II. The Will.III. The Moral Principle, or Conscience.IV. The moral relation of man towards theDeity.
These constitute what may be called the active principles of man, or those which are calculated to decide his conduct as a moral and responsible being. In connexion with them, there is another class of feelings, which may be called passive or connecting emotions. They exert a considerable influence of a secondary kind; but, in an Essay which is meant to be essentially practical, it perhaps will not be necessary to do more than enumerate them in such a manner as to point out their relation to the active principles.
When an object presents qualities on account of which we wish to obtain it, we feeldesire. If we have reason to think that it is within our reach, we experiencehope; and the effect of this is to encourage us in our exertions. If we arrive at such a conviction as leaves no doubt of the attainment, this isconfidence, one of the forms of that state of mind which we callfaith. If we see no prospectof attaining it, we give way todespair,—and this leads us to abandon all exertion for the attainment. When we obtain the object we experiencepleasureorjoy; if we are disappointed, we feelregret. If, again, we have the prospect of some evil which threatens us, we experiencefear, and are thereby excited to exertions for averting it. If we succeed in doing so, we experiencejoy; if not, we feelsorrow. If the evil seem unavoidable, we again give way todespair, and are thus led to relinquish all attempts to avert it.—Similar emotions attend on the affections. When we experience an affection, wedesireto be able to act upon it. When we see a prospect of doing so, wehope; if there seem to be none, wedespairof accomplishing our object. When we have acted upon a benevolent affection, or according to the dictates of the moral principle, we experienceself-approbation; when the contrary, we feelremorse. When either a desire or an affection has acquired an undue influence, so as to carry us forward in a manner disproportioned to its real and proper tendencies, it becomes apassion.
Desire is the immediate movement or act of the mind towards an object which presents some quality on account of which we wish to obtain it. The objects of desire, therefore, embrace all those attainments and gratifications, which mankind consider worthy of being sought after. The object pursued in each particular case, is determined by the views, habits, and moral dispositions of the individual. In this manner, one person may regard an object, as above every other worthy of being sought after, which to another appears insignificant or worthless. The principles which regulatethese diversities, and consequently form one of the great differences in human character, belong to a subsequent part of our inquiry.
In forming a classification of the desires, we must be guided simply by the nature of the various objects which are desired. Those which may be specified as the most prevalent, and the most clearly to be distinguished as separate, may be referred to the following heads.
I. The gratification of the animal propensities,—commonly called the appetites. These, which we possess in common with the lower animals, are implanted in us for important purposes; but they require to be kept under the most rigid control, both of reason and of the moral principle. When they are allowed to break through these restraints, and become leading principles of action, they form a character the lowest in the scale, whether intellectual or moral; and it is impossible to contemplate a more degraded condition of a rational and moral being. The consequences to society are also of the most baneful nature. Without alluding to the glutton or to the drunkard, what accumulated guilt, degradation, and wretchedness follow the course of the libertine,—blasting whatever comes within the reach of his influence, and extending a demoralizing power alike to him who inflicts and to those who suffer the wrong. Thus is constituted a class of evils, of which no human law can take any adequate cognizance, and which therefore raise our views, in a special and peculiar manner, to a supreme Moral Governor.
II. The Desire of Wealth, commonly called Avarice;—though avarice is perhaps justly to be regarded as the morbid excess or abuse of the propensity. This is properly to be considered as originating in the desire to possess the means of procuring other gratifications. But, by the influence of habit, the desire is transferred to the thing itself, and it often becomes a kind of mania, in which there is the pure love of gain, without the application of it to any other kind of enjoyment. It is a propensity which may, in a remarkable manner, engross the whole character, acquiring strength by continuance, and it is then generally accompanied by a contracted selfishness, which considers nothing as mean or unworthy that can be made to contribute to the ruling passion. This may be the case even when the propensity is regulated by the rules of justice;—if it break through this restraint, it leads to fraud, extortion, deceit, and injustice,—and, under another form, to theft or robbery. It is therefore always in danger of being opposed to the exercise of the benevolent affections, leading a man to live for himself, and to study only the means calculated to promote his own interest.
III. The Desire of Power, or Ambition. This is the love of ruling,—or giving the law to a circle whether more or less extensive. When it becomes the governing propensity, the strongest principles of human nature give way before it,—even those of personal comfort and safety. This we see in the conqueror, who braves every danger, difficulty, and privation, for the attainment of power; and in the statesman, who sacrifices for it every personal advantage, perhaps health and peace. The principle, however, assumes another form, which, according to its direction, may aim at a higher object. Such is the desire of exercising power over the minds of men; of persuading a multitude, by arguments or eloquence, to deeds of usefulness; of pleading the cause of the oppressed;—a power of influencing the opinions of others, and of guiding them into sound sentiments and virtuous conduct. This is a species of power, the most gratifying by far to an exalted and virtuous mind, and one calculated to carry benefit to others wherever it is exerted.
IV. The Desire of Superiority, or Emulation. This is allied to the former, except that it does not include any direct wish to rule, but aims simply at the acquirement of pre-eminence. It is a propensity of extensive influence, and not easily confined within the bounds of correct principle. It is apt to lead to undue means for the accomplishment of its object; and every real or imagined failure tends to excite hatred and envy. Hence it requires the most careful regulation and, when much encouraged in the young, is not free from the danger of generating malignant passions. Its influence and tendency, as in other desires, depend in a great measure on the objects towhich it is directed. It may be seen in the man who seeks to excel his associates in the gaiety of his apparel, the splendour of his equipage, or the luxury of his table. It is found in him whose proud distinction is to be the most fearless rider at a steeple-chase or a fox-hunt,—or to perform some other exploit, the only claim of which to admiration consists in its never having been performed before. The same principle, directed to more worthy objects, may influence him who seeks to be distinguished in some high pursuit, calculated to confer a lasting benefit upon his country or on human kind.
V. The Desire of Society. This has been considered by most writers on the subject as a prominent principle of human nature, shewing itself at all periods of life, and in all conditions of civilization. In persons shut up from intercourse with their fellow-men, it has manifested itself in the closest attachment to animals; as if the human mind could not exist without some object on which to exercise the feelings intended to bind man to his fellows. It is found in the union of men incivil society and social intercourse,—in the ties of friendship, and the still closer union of the domestic circle. It is necessary for the exercise of all the affections; and even our weaknesses require the presence of other men. There would be no enjoyment of rank or wealth, if there were none to admire;—and even the misanthrope requires the presence of another to whom his spleen may be uttered. The abuse of this principle leads to the contracted spirit of party.
VI. The Desire of Esteem and Approbation. This is a principle of most extensive influence, and is in many instances the source of worthy and useful displays of human character. Though inferior to the high sense of moral obligation, it may yet be considered a laudable principle,—as when a man seeks the approbation of others by deeds of benevolence, public spirit, or patriotism,—by actions calculated to promote the advantage or the comfort either of communities or individuals. In the healthy exercise of it, a man desires the approbation of the good;—in the distorted use of it, he seeks merely the praise of a party, or perhaps,by deeds of a frivolous or even vicious character, aims at the applause of associates whose praise is worthless. According to the object to which it is directed, therefore, the desire of approbation may be the attribute either of a virtuous or a perverted mind. But it is a principle, which, in general, we expect to find operating in every well-regulated mind, under certain restrictions. Thus a man who is totally regardless of character,—that is, of the opinion of all others respecting his conduct, we commonly consider as a person lost to correct virtuous feeling. On the other hand, however, there may be instances in which it is the quality of a man of the greatest mind to pursue some course to which from adequate motives, he has devoted himself, regardless alike of the praise or the disapprobation of other men. The character in which the love of approbation is a ruling principle is therefore modified by the direction of it. To desire the approbation of the virtuous, leads to conduct of a corresponding kind, and to steadiness and consistency in such conduct. To seek the approbation of the vicious, leads, of course, to an opposite character. But there is a third modification, presenting a subject of some interest, in which the prevailing principle of the man is a general love of approbation, without any discrimination of the characters of those whose praise is sought, or of the value of the qualities on account of which he seeks it. This is vanity; and it produces a conduct wavering and inconsistent,—perpetually changing with the circumstances in which the individual is placed. It often leads him to aim at admiration for distinctions of a very trivial character,—or even for qualities which he does not really possess. It thus includes the love of flattery. Pride, on the other hand, as opposed to vanity, seems to consist in a man entertaining a high opinion of himself, while he is indifferent to the opinion of others;—thus we speak of a man who is too proud to be vain.
Our regard to the opinion of others is the origin of our respect to character, in matters which do not come under the higher principle of morals; and is of extensive influence in promoting the harmonies, proprieties, and decencies of society. It is thus the foundation of good breeding, and leads to kindness and accommodation in little matterswhich do not belong to the class of duties. It is also the source of what we usually call decorum and propriety, which lead a man to conduct himself in a manner becoming his character and circumstances, in regard to things which do not involve any higher principle. For, apart entirely from any consideration either of morality or benevolence, there is a certain line of conduct which is unbecoming in all men; and there is conduct which is becoming in some, though it might not in other men,—and in some circumstances, though it might not be so in others. It is unnecessary to add, how much of a man's respectability in life often depends upon finding his way, with proper discrimination, through the relations of society which are amenable to this principle; or, by how many actions, which are not really wrong, a man may render himself despised and ridiculous. The love of esteem and approbation is also of extensive influence in the young,—both in the conduct of education and the cultivation of general character; and it is not liable to the objections, formerly referred to, which apply to the principle of Emulation. It leads also to those numerous expedients by which persons of various character seek for themselves notoriety or a name: or desire to leave a reputation behind them, when they are no more. This is the love of posthumous fame, a subject which has afforded an extensive theme both for the philosopher and the humorist.
VII. The Desire of Knowledge, or of Intellectual Improvement,—including the principle of Curiosity. The tendency of this high principle must depend, as in the former cases, on its regulation, and the objects to which it is directed. These may vary from the idle tattle of the day, to the highest attainments in literature or science. The principle may be applied to pursuits of a frivolous or useless kind, and to such acquirements as lead only to pedantry or sophism;—or it may be directed to a desultory application, which leads to a superficial acquaintance with a variety of subjects, without a correct knowledge of any of them. On the other hand, the pursuit of knowledge may be allowed to interfere with important duties which we owe to others, in the particular situation in which we are placed. A well-regulated judgment conducts the propensity to worthy objects; and directs it in such a manner as to make it most useful to others. With such due regulation, the principle ought to be carefully cultivated in the young. It is closely connected with that activity of mind which seeks for knowledge on every subject that comes within its reach, and which is ever on the watch to make its knowledge more correct and more extensive.
VIII. The Desire of Moral Improvement. This leads to the highest state of man: and it bears this peculiar character, that it is adapted to men in every scale of society, and tends to diffuse a beneficial influence around the circle with which the individual is connected. The desire of power may exist in many, but its gratification is limited to a few:—he who fails may become a discontented misanthrope; and he who succeeds may be a scourge to his species. The desire of superiority or of praise may be misdirected in the same manner, leading to insolent triumph on the one hand, and envy on the other. Even the thirst for knowledge may be abused, and many are placedin circumstances in which it cannot be gratified. But the desire of moral improvement commends itself to every class of society, and its object is attainable by all. In proportion to its intensity and its steadiness, it tends to make the possessor both a happier and a better man, and to render him the instrument of diffusing happiness and usefulness to all who come within the reach of his influence. If he be in a superior station, these results will be felt more extensively; if he be in a humble sphere, they may be more limited; but their nature is the same, and their tendency is equally to elevate the character of man. This mental condition consists, as we shall afterwards have occasion to shew more particularly, in a habitual recognition of the supreme authority of conscience over the whole intellectual and moral system, and in a habitual effort to have every desire and every affection regulated by the moral principle, and by a sense of the divine will. It leads to a uniformity of character which can never flow from any lower source, and to a conduct distinguished by the anxious discharge of every duty, and the practice of the most active benevolence.
The Emotions which have been now briefly mentioned seem to include the more important of those which pertain to the class of Desires. There is, however, another principle which ought to be mentioned as a leading peculiarity of human nature, though it may be somewhat difficult to determine the class to which it belongs. This is the Desire of Action,—the restless activity of mind, which leads it to require some object on which its powers must be exercised, and without which it preys upon itself and becomes miserable. On this principle we are to explain several facts which are of frequent observation. A person accustomed to a life of activity longs for ease and retirement, and, when he has accomplished his purpose, finds himself wretched. The frivolous engagements of the unoccupied are referable to the same principle. They arise, not from any interest which such occupations really possess, but simply from the desire of mental excitement,—the felicity of having something to do. The pleasure of relaxation, indeed, is known to those only who have regular and interesting employment. Continued relaxation soon becomes a weariness; and, on this ground, wemay safely assert, that the greatest degree of real enjoyment belongs, not to the luxurious man of wealth, or the listless votary of fashion, but to the middle classes of society, who, along with the comforts of life, have constant and important occupation. Apart, indeed, from actual suffering, I believe there is nothing in the external circumstances of individuals, of greater or more habitual importance for promoting personal happiness, than stated, rational, and interesting employment.
The mental condition which we call Desire appears to lie in a great measure at the foundation of character;—and, for a sound moral condition, it is required that the desires be directed to worthy objects,—and that the degree or strength of them be accommodated to the true and relative value of each of these objects. If the desires are thus directed, worthy conduct will be likely to follow in a steady and uniform manner. If they are allowed to break from the restraints of reason, and the moral principle, the man is left at the mercy of unhallowed passion, and is liable to those irregularities which naturally result from such a derangement of the moral feelings. If, indeed, we would see the evils produced by desire, when not thus controlled, we have only to look at the whole history of human kind. What accumulated miseries arise from the want of due regulation of the animal propensities, in the various forms in which it degrades the character of rational and moral beings.—What evils spring from the love of money, and from the desire of power;—from the contests of rivals, and the tumults of party,—what envy, hatred, malignity, and revenge.—What complicated wretchedness follows the train of ambition,—contempt of human suffering, countries depopulated, and fields deluged with blood. Such are the results of desire, when not directed to objects worthy of a moral being, and not kept under the rigid control of conscience, and the immutable laws of moral rectitude. When, in any of these forms, a sensual or selfish propensity is allowed to pass the due boundary which is fixed for it by reason and the moral principle, the mental harmony is destroyed, and even the judgment itself comes to be impaired and distorted in that highest of all inquiries, the search after moral truth.
The desires, indeed, may exist in an ill-regulated state, while the conduct is yet restrained by various principles, such as submission to human laws, a regard to character, or even a certain feeling of what is morally right, contending with the vitiated principle within. But this cannot be considered as the healthy condition of a moral being. It is only when the desire itself is sound, that we can say the man is in moral health. "He who grieves at his abstinence," says Aristotle, "is a voluptuary;"—and this also is the great principle so often and so strikingly enforced in the sacred writings; "Keep thy heart with all diligence, because out of it are the issues of life." "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Thus, there are desires which are folly, and there are desires which are vice, even though they should not be followed by indulgence; and there are desires which tend to purify and elevate the moral nature, though their objects should be beyond the reach of our full attainment in the present state of being. Perfect moral purity is not the lot of man in this transient state, and is not to be attained by his own unaided efforts. But,subservient to it is that warfare within, that earnest and habitual desire after the perfection of a moral being, which is felt to be the great object of life, when it is viewed in relation to the life which is to come. For this attainment, however, man must feel his total inadequacy,—and the utmost efforts of human reason have failed in unfolding the requisite aid. The conviction is thus forced upon us, that a higher influence is necessary, and this influence is fully disclosed by the light of revealed truth. We are there taught to look for a power from on high, capable of effecting what human efforts cannot accomplish,—the purification of the heart.
As the desires are calculated to bring some gratification to ourselves, the Affections lead us toour relations to other men, and to a certain line of conduct which arises out of these relations. They are to be viewed as original principles of our nature, planted in us for wise purposes, and the operation of them is to be considered as distinct, both from that of the moral principle and of reason,—that is, from any sense of duty or the moral rectitude of the conduct to which they lead, and from any calculation of its propriety and utility. Thus, when the mother devotes her attention by day and night to her infant, if from sickness or helplessness in want of her special care, and perseveres in doing so, with total disregard to her own ease, health, or comfort, she is not influenced either by a sense of duty, or by any feeling of the utility of her conduct: she acts upon an impulse within, which she feels to be a part of her constitution, and which carries her forward in a particular course of anxious and protracted exertion by the power of itself alone. This distinction appears to be of the utmost practical importance, and we shall have occasion to refer to it more particularly in the sequel.
An Affection, therefore, maybe considered as anoriginal feeling or emotion existing in ourselves, which leads us to a particular conduct towards other men, without reference to any principle except the intuitive impulse of the emotion itself. The Affections have been divided into the Benevolent and Malevolent; but these titles appear to be incorrect, especially the latter,—as the due exercise of the emotions to which it refers does not properly include what is called malevolence. They only tend to guard us against certain conduct in other men; and, when they are allowed to go beyond this, that is, to actual malevolence or revenge, the application is morbid. It will therefore accord better with the nature of these emotions, to give them the names of Uniting, and Defensive Affections;—the former including justice, benevolence, veracity, friendship, love, gratitude, patriotism, and the domestic affections;—the latter, jealousy, disapprobation, and anger.
There may be some difference of opinion in regard to the propriety of including justice amongthe affections; but it seems to be more nearly allied to them than to any of the other classes of moral emotions which have been mentioned, and it may, therefore, as a mere matter of arrangement, be conveniently introduced here. Strictly speaking, it might perhaps be considered as a combined operation of an affection and the moral principle; but this is matter of speculation alone. The important consideration relating to it is,—that, in whatever manner it arises, the sense of Justice is a primary and essential part of our moral constitution, conveying the distinct impression of certain conduct which a man owes to his fellow-men, without regard to any considerations of a personal nature, and apart from all positive enactments or laws, either divine or human. The requirements of Justice embrace certain points in which every man has an absolute right, and in regard to which it is the absolute duty of every other man not to interfere with him. These rights have usually been divided into three classes;—what I have a right to possess, and no man has any right to take from me,—what I have a right to do, and no man has any title to prevent me from doing,—what I have a right to expect from other men, and it is their absolute duty to perform. These principles form the basis of what is called Natural Jurisprudence, a code of relative duty deriving its authority from impressions which are found in the moral feelings of all mankind, without regard to the enactments of any particular civil society. In the actual arrangements of civil communities, these great principles of justice are combined with others which are derived merely from utility or expediency, as calculated to promote the peace or the advantage of the community. These may differ in different countries, and they cease to be binding when the enactments on which they rest are abrogated or changed. But no difference of place can alter, and no laws can destroy, the essential requirements of justice.
In these observations, it will be remarked, the word Justice is used as expressing a principle of individual character; and it is in this sense that it is to be properly classed with the affections. The term is employed in another sense, namely, that of distributive and corrective justice, which regulates the claims of individuals in a community,requires restitution or compensation for any deviation from such claims, or punishes those who have violated them. It is in the former sense that justice is properly to be considered as a branch of the philosophy of the moral feelings; but the same general principles apply to both.
The sense of Justice, therefore, consists in a feeling experienced by every man, of a certain line of conduct which he owes to other men in given circumstances; and this seems to be referable to the following heads,—attending to their interest,—not interfering with their freedom of action,—preserving their reputation,—estimating their character and motives,—judging of their opinions,—consulting their feelings,—and preserving or improving their moral condition. As a guide for his conduct in particular instances, a man has usually a distinct impression of what he thinks due by other men towards himself; justice requires that he rigidly extend to others the same feelings and conduct which, in similar circumstances, he expects from them.
(1.) Justice is due to the persons, property, andinterest of others. This constitutes Integrity or Honesty. It, of course, implies abstaining from every kind of injury, and preserving a conscientious regard to their rights. In this last respect, it allows us to exercise a prudent attention to our own interest, provided the means be fair and honourable, and that we carefully abstain from injuring others by the measures we employ for this purpose. The great rule for our guidance, in all such cases, is found in the immutable principles of moral rectitude; the test of our conduct in regard to individual instances is, that it be such as, were our own interest concerned, we should think fair and honourable in other men.
(2.) Justice requires us not to interfere with the freedom of action of others. This constitutes personal liberty;—but in all civil communities the right is liable to certain restrictions;—as when a man uses his freedom of action to the danger or injury of other men. The principles of justice may also recognise a man's surrendering, to a certain extent, his personal liberty, by mutual and voluntary compact, as in the case of servants, apprentices, soldiers, &c.; but they are opposed to slavery, in which the individual concerned is not a party to the arrangement.
(3.) Justice enjoins a regard to the reputation of others. This consists in avoiding every thing that could be injurious to their good name, either by direct evil speaking, or such insinuations as might give rise to suspicion or prejudice against them. It must extend also to the counteracting of such insinuations, when we hear them made by others, especially in circumstances in which the individual injured has no opportunity of defending himself. It includes, farther, that we do not deny to others, even to rivals, any praise or credit which is justly due to them. There is, however, one modification, equally consistent with justice, to which the former of these rules is liable; namely, that, in certain cases, we may be required to make a statement prejudicial to an individual, when duty to a third party or to the public makes it incumbent on us to do so. In such a case, a person guided by the rules of justice will go no farther than is actually required by the circumstances;and will at all times beware of propagating a report injurious to another, though he should know it to be strictly true, unless he is called upon by special duty to communicate it.
(4.) Justice requires us not only to avoid injuring an individual in the estimation of other men, but to exercise the same fairness in forming our own opinion of his character, without being misled or biased by passion or prejudice. This consists in estimating his conduct and motives with calmness and impartiality; in regard to particular instances, making full allowance for the circumstances in which he was placed, and the feelings by which he was, or might be, at the time, naturally influenced. When an action admits of being referred to different motives, justice consists in taking the more favourable view, if we can do so with strict regard to truth, instead of harshly and hastily assigning a motive which is unworthy. Such justice in regard to character and motives we require to exercise with peculiar care, when the conduct referred to has been in any way opposed to our own self-love. In these cases we must beespecially on our guard against the influence of the selfish principle, which might lead to partial and distorted views of actions and motives, less favourable to others, and more favourable to ourselves, than justice warrants. When viewed in this manner, we may often perceive, that conduct, which gave rise to emotions of displeasure as injurious to us, was fully warranted by some conduct on our own part, or was required by some higher duty which the individual owed to another.
(5.) Justice is to be exercised in judging of the opinions and statements of others. This constitutes Candour. It consists in giving a fair and deliberate hearing to opinions, statements, and arguments, and weighing fairly and honestly their tendency. It is, therefore, opposed to prejudice, blind attachment to preconceived opinions, and that narrow disputatious spirit which delights in captious criticism, and will hear nothing with calmness that is opposed to its own views; which distorts or misrepresents the sentiments of its opponents, ascribing them to unworthy motives, ordeducing from them conclusions which they do not warrant. Candour, accordingly, may be considered as a compound of justice and the love of truth. It leads us to give due attention to the opinions and statements of others,—in all cases to be chiefly solicitous to discover truth, and, in statements of a mixed character, containing perhaps much error and fallacy, anxiously to discover and separate what is true. It has accordingly been remarked, that a turn for acute disputation, and minute and rigid criticism, is often the characteristic of a contracted and prejudiced mind; and that the most enlarged understandings are always the most indulgent to the statements of others,—their leading object being to discover truth.
(6.) Justice is due to the feelings of others; and this applies to many circumstances which do not affect either their interest or their reputation. Without injuring them in any of these respects, or in our own good opinion, we may behave to them in such a manner as to wound their feelings. There are minds of an extreme delicacy, which, inthis respect, are peculiarly sensitive;—towards these a person of correct feelings strives to conduct himself with suitable tenderness. We may find, however, persons of honest and upright minds, who would shrink from the least approach to real injury, but yet neglect the necessary attention to the feelings; and may even confer a real benefit in such a manner as to wound the individual to whom they intended kindness. The lower degrees of this principle pertain to what is called mere good breeding, which has been defined "benevolence in trifles;" but the higher degrees may restrain from conduct which, without any real injury, inflicts permanent pain. To this head we may perhaps also refer a due regard to the estimate which we lead a man to form of himself. This is opposed to flattery on the one hand, and on the other to any unnecessary depreciation of his character. Flattery indeed is also to be considered as a violation of veracity.
(7.) While, upon the principles which have been referred to, we abstain from injuring the interests, the reputation, or the feelings of others, there isanother class of injuries, of still higher magnitude, which the conscientious mind will avoid with peculiar anxiety, namely, injuries done to the moral principles of other men. These form a class of offences of which no human law takes any adequate cognizance, but we know that they possess a character of the deepest malignity. Deep guilt attaches to the man who, by persuasion or ridicule, has unhinged the moral feelings of another, or has been the means of leading him astray from the paths of virtue. Of equal, or even greater malignity, is the aspect of the writer, whose works have contributed to violate the principles of truth and rectitude,—to pollute the imagination, or corrupt the heart. Inferior offenders are promptly seized by public authority, and suffer the award of public justice; but the destroyer of the moral being often walks securely through his own scene of moral discipline, as if no power could reach the measure of his guilt but the hand of the Eternal.
To the same head we are to assign the extensive and important influence of example. There are few men who have not in this respect somepower, but it belongs more particularly to persons in situations of rank and public eminence. It is matter of deep regret, both to the friend of virtue and the friend of his country, when any of these are found manifesting disregard to sacred things, or giving an air of fashion to what is calculated to corrupt the moral principles of the unthinking classes of society. If they are restrained by no higher motive, the feelings of patriotism, and even of personal safety, ought to produce a solemn caution; and it becomes them seriously to consider, whether they may not thus be sowing among the ignorant multitude the seeds of tumult, revolution, and anarchy.
Great diversity exists in the condition of different individuals in the present state,—some being in circumstances of ease, wealth, and comfort,—others of pain, deprivation, and sorrow. Such diversities we must consider as an arrangement established by the great Disposer of all things, andcalculated to promote important purposes in his moral government. Many of these purposes are entirely beyond the reach of our faculties; but, as holding a prominent place among them, we may safely reckon the cultivation of our moral feelings, especially the affections of compassion and benevolence. The due exercise of these is, therefore, calculated to promote a double object, namely, the alleviation of distress in others,—and the cultivation in ourselves of a mental condition peculiarly adapted to a state of moral discipline. By bringing us into contact with individuals in various forms and degrees of suffering, they tend continually to remind us, that the present scene is but the infancy of our existence,—that the beings whom we thus contemplate are the children of the same Almighty Father with ourselves, inheriting the same nature, possessed of the same feelings, and soon to enter upon another state of existence, when all the distinctions which are to be found in this world shall cease for ever. They tend thus to withdraw us from the power of self-love, and the deluding influence of present things; and habitually to raise our views to that future life, forwhich the present is intended to prepare us. The due cultivation of the benevolent affections, therefore, is not properly to be considered as the object of moral approbation, but rather as a process of moral culture. They may enable us in some degree to benefit others, but their chief benefit is to ourselves. By neglecting them, we both incur much guilt, and deprive ourselves of an important mean of improvement. The diligent exercise of them, besides being a source of moral advantage, is accompanied with a degree of mental enjoyment which carries with it its own reward. Such appears to be the correct view which we ought to take of the arrangement established by the Creator in this part of our constitution. It is calculated to correct a misconception of an important kind, which considers the exercise of the benevolent affections as possessing a character of merit. To this subject we shall have occasion to refer more particularly in the sequel.
The exercise of the benevolent affections may be briefly treated of, under nearly the same heads as those referred to when considering the principle of Justice;—keeping in mind that they lead togreater exertion for the benefit of others, and thus often demand a greater sacrifice of self love, than is included under the mere requirements of justice. On the other hand, benevolence is not to be exercised at the expense of Justice; as would be the case, if a man were found relieving distress by such expedients as involve the necessity of withholding the payment of just debts, or imply the neglect or infringement of some duty which he owes to another.
(1.) Compassion and benevolent exertion are due towards alleviating the distresses of others. This exercise of them, in many instances, calls for a decided sacrifice of personal interest, and, in others, for considerable personal exertion. We feel our way to the proper measure of these sacrifices, by the high principle of moral duty, along with that mental exercise which places us in the situation of others, and, by a kind of reflected self-love, judges of the conduct due by us to them in our respective circumstances.—The details of this subject would lead us into a field too extensive for our present purpose. Pecuniary aid, by those whohave the means, is the most easy form in which benevolence can be gratified, and that which often requires the least, if any, sacrifice of personal comfort or self-love. The same affection maybe exercised in a degree much higher in itself, and often much more useful to others, by personal exertion and personal kindness. The former, compared with the means of the individual, may present a mere mockery of mercy; while the latter, even in the lowest walks of life, often exhibit the brightest displays of active usefulness that can adorn the human character. This high and pure benevolence not only is dispensed with willingness, when occasions present themselves; but seeks out opportunities for itself, and feels in want of its natural and healthy exercise when deprived of an object on which it may be bestowed.
(2.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the reputation of others. This consists not only in avoiding any injury to their characters, but in exertions to protect them against the injustice of others,—to correct misrepresentations,—tocheck the course of slander, and to obviate the efforts of those who would poison the confidence of friends, or disturb the harmony of society.
(3.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the character and conduct of others; especially when these have been in opposition to our personal interest or self-love. This consists in viewing their conduct with indulgence and forbearance, assigning the most favourable motives,—and making every allowance for their feelings, and the circumstances in which they were placed. It leads us also to avoid all suspicions and jealousies which are not clearly justified by fact; and to abstain to the utmost from taking offence,—by putting upon the conduct of others the best construction of which it will possibly admit. It extends still farther to the actual forgiveness of injuries, and the repaying of evil with good,—a conduct represented in the sacred writings as one of the highest attainments the human character can reach, in so far as regards its relation to other men.
(4.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the feelings of others; and this applies to many situations in which neither their interest nor their character is concerned. It includes those exercises of the kindly affections which produce so powerful an influence in all the relations of life, but which it is impossible for any description to delineate. It comprehends all our social and civil connexions, but seems peculiarly to belong to our intercourse with inferiors and dependents. Its most anxious exercise may often relate merely to trifles, but it extends to innumerable circumstances in which we may surrender our own feelings to those of others, and our own convenience or gratification to theirs. It implies solicitude to avoid wounding the feelings by pride, selfishness, or fretfulness,—by suspicions, imputations, and jealousies,—or by allowing insignificant things to ruffle the temper and derange the social comfort. Many, who are not deficient in what we usually call deeds of benevolence, are too apt to forget, that a most important exercise of true benevolence consists in the habitual cultivation of courtesy, gentleness, and kindness; and that on these dispositions often depends our influence upon the comfort and happiness of others, in a greater degree than on any deeds of actual beneficence.—To this department, also, we may refer the high character of the peace-maker, whose delight it is to allay angry feelings, even when he is in no degree personally interested, and to bring together as friends and brethren, those who have assumed the attitude of hatred and revenge.
(5.) Benevolence is to be exercised in regard to the moral degradation of others, including their ignorance and vice. This prevents us from deriving satisfaction from moral evil, even though it should contribute to our advantage, as might often happen from the misconduct of rivals or enemies. It implies also that highest species of usefulness which aims at raising the moral condition of man,—by instructing the ignorant, rescuing the unwary, and reclaiming the vicious. This exalted benevolence will therefore also seek to extend the light of divine truth to nations that sit in moral darkness; and looks anxiously for the period when the knowledge of Christianity shall dispelevery false faith, and put an end to the horrors of superstition.
In our mental impressions relating to veracity, we have a striking illustration of the manner in which we rely on this class of moral feelings, as instinctive in the constitution of the mind. On a certain confidence in the veracity of mankind is founded so much of the knowledge on which we constantly depend, that, without it, the whole system of human things would go into confusion. It relates to all the intelligence which we derive from any other source than our own personal observation:—for example, to all that we receive through the historian, the traveller, the naturalist, or the astronomer. Even in regard to the most common events of a single day, we often proceed on a confidence in the veracity of a great variety of individuals. There is, indeed, a natural tendency to truth in all men, unless where this principle is overcome by some strong selfish purposeto be answered by departing from it:—and there is an equally strong tendency to rely on the veracity of others, until we have learnt certain cautions by our actual experience of mankind. Hence children and inexperienced persons are easily imposed upon by unfounded statements:—and the most practised liar confides in the credulity of those whom he attempts to deceive. Deception, indeed, would never accomplish its purpose, if it were not from the impression that men generally speak truth. It is obvious also, that the mutual confidence which men have in each other, both in regard to veracity of statement, and to sincerity of intention respecting engagements, is that which keeps together the whole of civil society. In the transactions of commerce it is indispensable, and without it all the relations of civil life would go into disorder. When treating of the intellectual powers in another work, I considered the principles which regulate our confidence in human testimony; and it is unnecessary to recur to them in this place. Our present object is briefly to analyze the elements which are essential to veracity, when we view it as a moral emotion, or a branchof individual character. These appear to be three,—correctness in ascertaining facts,—accuracy in relating them,—and truth of purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of promises.
(1.) An important element of veracity is correctness in ascertaining facts. This is essential to theLove of Truth. It requires us to exercise the most anxious care respecting every statement which we receive as true; and not to receive it as such, until we are satisfied that the authority on which it is asserted is of a nature on which we can fully rely, and that the statement contains all the facts to which our attention ought to be directed. It consequently guards us against those limited views, by which party spirit or a love of favourite dogmas leads a man to receive the facts which favour a particular opinion, and neglect those which are opposed to it. The sound exercise of judgment, which is connected with this love of truth, differs therefore from the art of ingenious disputation, and is often found directly at variance with it. The same principle is applicable to the truths which are derived as deductions from processes of reasoning. It is thus opposed to all sophistical arguments, and partial or distorted reasonings, by which disputants strive to establish particular systems, instead of engaging in an honest and simple inquiry after truth. The love of truth, therefore, is of equal importance in the reception of facts, and in the formation of opinions; and it includes also a readiness to relinquish our own opinions, when new facts or arguments are presented to us which are calculated to overturn them. The practice of this sincere and candid search after truth, on every subject to which the mind may be directed, ought to be cultivated in early life with the most assiduous care. It is a habit of the mind which must exercise a most important influence in the culture both of moral and intellectual character.
In the reception of truth, especially on the evidence of testimony, we acquire by experience a degree of caution, arising from having been sometimes deceived. In minds of a certain description, this may be allowed to produce a suspicion with regard to all evidence,—in other words,Scepticism. The want of the necessary and proper caution,again, leads toCredulity. It is the part of a well-regulated mind to avoid both these extremes, by attentively weighing the evidence and the character of the witnesses, and giving to each circumstance its due influence in the conclusion.
(2.) Closely connected with the love of truth in receiving, is the exercise of veracity in the statement of facts, whether derived from our personal observation or received by testimony from others. It consists not only in the most scrupulous accuracy of relation, but also in giving it in such a manner as to convey a correct impression to the hearer. It is consequently opposed to all those methods by which either a false statement may be made to assume the appearance of truth, or one essentially true may be so related as to convey a false impression.
Direct fallacy may consist in the alleged facts being absolutely false, or in some of them being so,—in facts being wanting or kept out of view which would give a different import to the whole statement,—or in some of the facts being disguised, distorted, or coloured, so as to alter materially the impression conveyed by them. But, besides such actual fallacy, there are various methods by which a statement literally true may be so related as to convey an erroneous impression. Facts may be connected together in such a manner as to give the appearance of a relation of cause and effect, when they are in truth entirely unconnected;—or an event may be represented as common which has occurred only in one or two instances. The character of an individual may be assumed from a single act, which, if the truth were known, might be seen to be opposed to his real disposition, and accounted for by the circumstances in which he happened at the time to be placed. Events may be connected together, which were entirely disjoined, and conclusions deduced from this fictitious connexion, which are of course unfounded. Several of these sources of fallacy may be illustrated by a ludicrous example. A traveller from the continent has represented the venality of the British House of Commons to be such, that, whenever the minister of the Crown entersthe house, there is a general cry for "places." It may be true that a cry of "places" has gone round the house at certain times, when business was about to commence, or to be resumed after an interval,—meaning, of course, that members were to take their seats. It is very probable, that, on some occasion, this may have occurred at the moment when the minister entered,—so that the statement of the traveller might, in point of fact, be strictly true. The erroneous impression which he endeavours to convey by it, arises from three sources of fallacy, which the anecdote will serve to illustrate, namely,—the false meaning he gives to the word employed,—connecting it with the entrance of the minister as cause and effect,—and representing the connexion as uniform which happened to occur in that particular instance. In the same manner it will appear, that a false impression may be conveyed respecting the conduct of an individual,—by assigning motives which are entirely imaginary,—by connecting things together which have no relation,—by keeping out of view circumstances which would afford an explanation or palliation of his conduct,—or byattaching to his words a different meaning from that which he intended to convey by them. The common saying, that there are two ways of telling a story, does not therefore refer to what is strictly to be called fabrication or falsehood; but to those distortions or colourings of circumstances, which, however slight in themselves, have the effect of essentially changing the impression made by the whole.
To veracity, under this department, we are also to refer the rule,—of giving to others an honest and fair impression of our views, motives, and intentions. This isSincerity. It is opposed to hypocrisy, that unworthy display of human character, in which a man disguises his real sentiments, and, on the contrary, professes principles which he neither feels nor values, merely for the purpose of promoting his selfish interests. Such a character exhibits a singular combination of moral delinquencies. It is founded on the lowest selfishness, and includes a departure from veracity and honesty. But besides, it implies a knowledge of virtuous principles, and of their proper tendencies, while there is a practical denial of theirinfluence. Sincerity is also opposed to flattery, which tends to give a man a false impression of our opinion, and of our feelings towards him, and likewise leads him to form a false estimate of his own character. It is opposed also to simulation or double dealing, by which a man, for certain purposes professes sentiments towards another which he does not feel, or intentions which he does not entertain.
(3.) The third element of veracity is Truth of Purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of promises. This is opposed to actual departure from what was distinctly promised; likewise to all those evasions by which one may convey an impression, or excite the hope of an intention which he does not mean to fulfil,—or avoid the performance of a real or implied engagement on any other ground than inability to perform it. By this straight-forward integrity of purpose, an individual gives a clear impression of what he honestly intends to perform; and performs it, though circumstances may have occurred to make the fulfilment disagreeable or even injurious to himself:—"he sweareth tohis own hurt," says a sacred writer, "and changeth not."
These affections are so nearly allied, that, in this slight analysis, they may be taken together. They consist in a personal and peculiar attachment to an individual, founded either upon some qualities in himself, or some benefits he has conferred on us, or on some one in whom we are interested. The feelings and conduct to which they give rise correspond with those referred to under the preceding affections, with this difference, that, in many instances, they lead to a much greater sacrifice of personal interest and comfort, than usually proceeds either from justice or simple benevolence. The exertions arising out of them are directed, according to the division formerly given, to promoting the interest or comfort of the object of our regard,—preserving, defending, or advancing his reputation,—treating his feelings with peculiar tenderness,—and his failings with peculiarindulgence,—receiving his opinions with peculiar favour,—and anxiously endeavouring to improve his intellectual and moral condition. This last consideration is justly reckoned the highest office of friendship;—it is to be regretted that its operation is sometimes impeded by another feeling, which leads us to be blind to the failings and deficiencies of those whom we love.—In exercising simple love and friendship, we rejoice in the advantage and happiness of the object, though they should be accomplished by others,—but, in exercising gratitude, we are not satisfied unless they be effected in some measure by ourselves.