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MORAL SCIENCE: A COMPENDIUM OF ETHICS
by
ALEXANDER BAIN, M.A.,
Author of "Mental Science: A Compendium of Psychology;" "The
Senses and the Intellect;" "The Emotions and the Will;" "A
Manual ooof Rhetoric;" Professor of Logic in the University
of Aberdeen, etc., etc., etc.
1869
PREFACE
The present Dissertation falls under two divisions.
The first division, entitled The Theory of Ethics, gives an account of
the questions or points brought into discussion, and handles at length
the two of greatest prominence, the Ethical Standard, and the Moral
Faculty.
The second division--on The Ethical Systems--is a full detail of all
the systems, ancient and modern, by conjoined Abstract and Summary.
With few exceptions, an abstract is made of each author's exposition
of his own theory, the fulness being measured by relative importance;
while, for better comparing and remembering the several theories, they
are summarized at the end, on a uniform plan.
The connection of Ethics with Psychology is necessarily intimate; the
leading ethical controversies involve a reference to mind, and can be
settled only by a more thorough understanding of mental processes.
Although the present volume is properly a continuation of the Manual
of Psychology and the History of Philosophy, recently published, and
contains occasional references to that treatise, it may still be
perused as an independent work on the Ethical Doctrines and Systems.
A.B.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART I.
THE THEORY OF ETHICS.
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMINARY VIEW OF ETHICAL QUESTIONS.
I.--The ETHICAL STANDARD. Summary of views.
II.--PSYCHOLOGICAL questions.
1. The Moral Faculty.
2. The Freedom of the Will; the sources of Disinterested conduct.
III.--The BONUM, SUMMUM BONUM, or Happiness.
IV.--The CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES, and the Moral Code.
V.--Relationship of Ethics to POLITICS.
VI.--Relation to Theology.
CHAPTER II.
THE ETHICAL STANDARD.
1. Ethics, as a department of Practice, is defined by its End.
2. The Ethical End is the welfare of society, realized through rules
of conduct duly enforced.
3. The Rules of Ethics are of two kinds. The first are imposed under
a penalty. These are Laws proper, or Obligatory Morality.
4. The second are supported by Rewards; constituting Optional
Morality, Merit, Virtue, or Nobleness.
5. The Ethical End, or Morality, _as it has been_, is founded partly
in Utility, and partly in Sentiment.
6. The Ethical End is limited, according to the view taken of Moral
Government, or Authority:--Distinction between Security and
Improvement.
7. Morality, in its essential parts, is 'Eternal and Immutable;' in
other parts, it varies with custom.
8. Enquiry as to the kind, of proof that an Ethical Standard is
susceptible of. The ultimate end of action must be referred to
individual judgment.
9. The judgment of Mankind is, with some qualifications, in favour of
Happiness as the supreme end of conduct.
10. The Ethical end that society is tending to, is Happiness, or
Utility.
11. Objections against Utility. I.--Happiness is not the sole aim of
human pursuit.
12. II.--The consequences of actions are beyond calculation.
13. III.--The principle of Utility contains no motives to seek the
happiness of others.
CHAPTER III.
THE MORAL FACULTY.
1. Question whether the Moral Faculty be simple or complex.
2. Arguments in favour of its being simple and intuitive:--First, Our
moral judgments are immediate and instantaneous.
3. Secondly, It is a faculty common to all mankind.
4. Thirdly, It is different from any other mental phenomenon.
5. Replies to these Arguments, and Counter-arguments:---First;
Immediateness of operation is no proof of an innate origin.
6. Secondly, The alleged similarity of men's moral judgments holds
only in a limited degree. Answers given by the advocates of an
Innate sentiment, to the discrepancies.
7. Thirdly, Moral right and wrong is not an indivisible property, but
an extensive Code of regulations.
8. Fourthly, Intuition is not sufficient to settle debated questions.
9. Fifthly, It is possible to analyze the Moral Faculty:--Estimate of
the operation of (1) Prudence, (2) Sympathy, and (3) the Emotions
generally.
10. The _peculiar attribute_ of Rightness arises from the institution
of Government or Authority.
11. The speciality of Conscience, or the Moral Sentiment, is
identified with our education under Government, or Authority.
PART II.
THE ETHICAL SYSTEMS.
SOKRATES. His subjects were Men and Society. His Ethical Standard
indistinctly expressed. Resolved Virtue into Knowledge. Ideal of
pursuit--Well-doing. Inculcated self-denying Precepts. Political
Theory. Connexion of Ethics with Theology slender.
PLATO. Review of the Dialogues containing portions of Ethical
Theory:--_Alkibiades I_. discusses Just and Unjust. _Alkibiades II_.
the knowledge of Good or Reason. _Hippias Minor_ identifies Virtue
with Knowledge. _Minos_ (on Law) refers everything to the decision of
an Ideal Wise man. _Laekes_ resolves Courage, and _Charmides_
Temperance, into Intelligence or the supreme science of good and evil.
_Lysis_ (on Friendship) gives the Idea of the good as the supreme
object of affection. _Menon_ enquires, Is virtue _teachable?_ and
iterates the science of good and evil. _Protagoras_ makes Pleasure the
only good, and Pain the only evil, and defines the science of good and
evil as the comparison of pleasures and pains. _Gorgias_ contradicts
Protagoras, and sets up Order or Discipline as a final end.
_Politikus_ (on Government) repeats the Sokratic ideal of the One Wise
man. _Philebus_ makes Good a compound of Pleasure with Intelligence,
the last predominating. The _Republic_ assimilates Society to an
Individual man, and defines Justice as the balance of the constituent
parts of each. _Timoeus_ repeats the doctrine that wickedness is
disease, and not voluntary. The _Laws_ place all conduct under the
prescription of the civil magistrate. Summary of Plato's views.
THE CYNICS AND THE CYRENAICS. Cynic succession. The proper description
of the tenets of both schools comes under the Summum Bonum. The Cynic
Ideal was the minimum of wants, and their self-denial was compensated
by exemption from fear, and by pride of superiority. The Cyrenaic
ARISTIPPUS:--Was the first to maintain that the summum bonum is
Pleasure and the absence of Pain. Future Pleasures and Pains taken
into the account. His Psychology of Pleasure and Pain.
ARISTOTLE. Abstract of the Nicomachean Ethics. Book First. The Chief
Good, or Highest End of human endeavours. Great differences of opinion
as to the nature of Happiness. The Platonic Idea of the Good
criticised. The Highest End an _end-in-itself_. Virtue referable to
the special work of man; growing out of his mental capacity. External
conditions necessary to virtue and happiness. The Soul subdivided into
parts, each, having its characteristic virtue or excellence.
Book Second. Definition and classification of the Moral virtues.
Virtue the result of Habit. Doctrine of the MEAN. The test of virtue
to feel no pain. Virtue defined (_genus_) an acquirement or a State,
(_differentia_) a Mean between extremes. Rules for hitting the Mean.
Book Third. The Voluntary and Involuntary. Deliberate Preference.
Virtue and vice are voluntary. The virtues in detail:--Courage
[Self-sacrifice implied in Courage]. Temperance.
Book Fourth. Liberality. Magnificence. Magnanimity. Mildness.
Good-breeding. Modesty.
Book Fifth. Justice:--Universal Justice includes all virtue.
Particular Justice is of two kinds, Distributive and Corrective.
Book Sixth. Intellectual Excellences, or Virtues of the Intellect. The
Rational part of the Soul embraces the Scientific and the Deliberative
functions. Science deals with the necessary. Prudence or the Practical
Reason; its aims and requisites. In virtue, good dispositions must be
accompanied with Prudence.
Book Seventh. Gradations of moral strength and moral weakness.
Continence and Incontinence.
Books Eighth and Ninth. Friendship:--Grounds of Friendship. Varieties
of Friendship, corresponding to different objects of liking.
Friendship between the virtuous is alone perfect. A settled habit, not
a mere passion. Equality in friendship. Political friendships.
Explanation of the family affections. Rule of reciprocity of services.
Conflicting obligations. Cessation of friendships. Goodwill. Love felt
by benefactors. Self-love. Does the happy man need friends?
Book Tenth. Pleasure:--Theories of Pleasure--Eudoxus, Speusippus,
Plato. Pleasure is not The Good. Pleasure defined. The pleasures of
Intellect. Nature of the Good or Happiness resumed. Perfect happiness
found only in the philosophical life; second to which is the active
social life of the good citizen. Happiness of the gods. Transition
from Ethics to Politics.
THE STOICS. The succession of Stoical philosophers. Theological
Doctrines of the Stoics:--The Divine Government; human beings must
rise to the comprehension of Universal Law; the soul at death absorbed
into the divine essence; argument from Design. Psychology:--Theory of
Pleasure and Pain; theory of the Will. Doctrine of Happiness or the
Good:--Pain no evil; discipline of endurance--Apathy. Theory of
Virtue:--Subordination of self to the larger interests; their view of
active Beneficence; the Stoical paradoxes; the idea of Duty;
consciousness of Self-improvement.
EPICURUS. Life and writings. His successors. Virtue and vice referred
by him to Pleasures and Pains calculated by Reason. Freedom from Pain
the primary object. Regulation of desires. Pleasure good if not
leading to pain. Bodily feeling the foundation of sensibility. Mental
feelings contain memory and hope. The greatest miseries are from the
delusions of hope, and from the torments of fear. Fear of Death and
Fear of the Gods. Relations with others; Justice and Friendship--both
based on reciprocity. Virtue and Happiness inseparable. Epicureanism
the type of all systems grounded on enlightened self-interest.
THE NEO-PLATONISTS. The Moral End to be attained through an
intellectual regimen. The soul being debased by its connection with
matter, the aim of human action is to regain the spiritual life. The
first step is the practice of the cardinal virtues: the next the
purifying virtues. Happiness is the undisturbed life of contemplation.
Correspondence of the Ethical, with the Metaphysical scheme.
SCHOLASTIC ETHICS. ABAELARD:--Lays great stress on the subjective
element in morality; highest human good, love to God; actions
judged by intention, and intention by conscience.
ST. BERNARD:--Two degrees of virtue, Humility and Love.
JOHN of SALISBURY:--Combines philosophy and theology; doctrine of
Happiness; the lower and higher desires.
ALEXANDER OF HALES. BONAVENTURA. ALBERTUS MAGNUS.
AQUINAS:--Aristotelian mode of enquiry as to the end; God the highest
good; true happiness lies in the self-sufficing theoretic
intelligence; virtue; division of the virtues.
HOBBES. (Abstract of the Ethical part of Leviathan). Constituents of
man's nature. The Good. Pleasure. The simple passions. Theory of the
Will. Good and evil. Conscience. Virtue. Position of Ethics in the
Sciences. Power, Worth, Dignity. Happiness a perpetual progress;
consequences of the restlessness of desire. Natural state of mankind;
a state of enmity and war. Necessity of articles of peace, called Laws
of Nature. Law defined. Rights; Renunciation of rights; Contract;
Merit. Justice. Laws of Gratitude, Complaisance, Pardon upon
repentance. Laws against Cruelty, Contumely, Pride, Arrogance. Laws of
Nature, how far binding. Summary.
CUMBERLAND. Standard of Moral Good summed up in Benevolence. The moral
faculty is the Reason, apprehending the Nature of Things. Innate Ideas
an insufficient foundation. Will. Disinterested action. Happiness.
Moral Code, the common good of all rational beings. Obligations in
respect of giving and of receiving. Politics. Religion.
CUDWORTH. Moral Good and Evil cannot be arbitrary. The mind has a
power of Intellection, above Sense, for aiming at the eternal and
immutable verities.
CLARKE. The eternal Fitness and Unfitness of Things determine Justice,
Equity, Goodness and Truth, and lay corresponding obligations upon
reasonable creatures. The sanction of Rewards and Punishments
secondary and additional. Our Duties.
WOLLASTON. Resolves good and evil into Truth and Falsehood.
LOCKE. Arguments against Innate Practical Principles. Freedom of the
Will. Moral Rules grounded in law.
BUTLER. Characteristics of our Moral Perceptions. Disinterested
Benevolence a fact of our constitutions. Our passions and affections
do not aim at self as their immediate end. The Supremacy of Conscience
established from our moral nature. Meanings of Nature. Benevolence not
ultimately at variance with Self-Love.
HUTCHESON.--Primary feelings of the mind. Finer perceptions--Beauty,
Sympathy, the Moral Sense, Social feelings; the benevolent order of
the world suggesting Natural Religion. Order or subordination of the
feelings as Motives; position of Benevolence. The Moral Faculty
distinct and independent. Confirmation of the doctrine from the Sense
of Honour. Happiness. The tempers and characters bearing on happiness.
Duties to God. Circumstances affecting the moral good or evil of
actions. Rights and Laws.
MANDEVILLE. Virtue supported solely by self-interest. Compassion
resolvable into self. Pride an important source of moral virtue.
Private vices, public benefits. Origin of Society.
HUME. Question whether Reason or Sentiment be the foundation of
morals. The esteem for Benevolence shows that Utility enters into
virtue. Proofs that Justice is founded solely on Utility. Political
Society has utility for its end. The Laws. Why Utility pleases.
Qualities useful to ourselves. Qualities agreeable (1) to ourselves,
and (2) to others. Obligation. The respective share of Reason and of
Sentiment in moral approbation. Benevolence not resolvable into
Self-Love.
PRICE. The distinctions of Right and Wrong are perceived by the
Understanding. The Beauty and Deformity of Actions. The feelings have
some part in our moral discrimination. Self-Love and Benevolence. Good
and ill Desert. Obligation. Divisions of Virtue. Intention as an
element in virtuous action. Estimate of degrees of Virtue and Vice.
ADAM SMITH. Illustration of the workings of Sympathy. Mutual sympathy.
The Amiable and the Respectable Virtues. How far the several passions
are consistent with Propriety. Influences of prosperity and adversity
on moral judgments. The Sense of Merit and Demerit. Self-approbation.
Love of Praise and of Praiseworthiness. Influence and authority of
Conscience. Self-partiality; corrected by the use of General Rules.
Connexion of Utility with Moral Approbation. Influence of Custom on
the Moral Sentiments. Character of Virtue. Self-command. Opinion
regarding the theory of the Moral Sense.
HARTLEY. Account of Disinterestedness. The Moral Sense a product of
Association.
FERGUSON. (Note)
REID. Duty not to be resolved into Interest. Conscience an original
power of the mind. Axiomatic first principles of Morals. Objections to
the theory of Utility.
STEWART. The Moral Faculty an original power. Criticism of opposing
views. Moral Obligation: connexion with Religion. Duties. Happiness:
classification of pleasures.
BROWN. Moral approbation a simple emotion of the mind. Universality of
moral distinctions. Objections to the theory of Utility. Disinterested
sentiment.
PALEY. The Moral Sense not intuitive. Happiness. Virtue: its
definition. Moral Obligation resolved into the command of God. Utility
a criterion of the Divine Will. Utility requires us to consider
_general_ consequences. Rights. Duties.
BENTHAM. Utility the sole foundation of Morals. Principles adverse to
Utility. The Four Sanctions of Right. Comparative estimate of
Pleasures and Pains. Classification of Pleasures and Pains. Merit and
Demerit. Pleasures and pains viewed as Motives: some motives are
Social or tutelary, others Dissocial or Self-regarding. Dispositions.
The consequences of a mischievous act. Punishment. Private Ethics
(Prudence) and Legislation distinguished; their respective spheres.
MACKINTOSH. Universality of Moral Distinctions. Antithesis or Reason
and Passion. It is not virtuous _acts_ but virtuous _dispositions_
that outweigh the pains of self-sacrifice. The moral sentiments have
for their objects Dispositions. Utility. Development of Conscience
through Association; the constituents are Gratitude, Sympathy,
Resentment and Shame, together with Education. Religion must
presuppose Morality. Objections to Utility criticised. Duties to
ourselves, an improper expression. Reference of moral sentiments to
the Will.
JAMES MILL. Primary constituents of the Moral Faculty--pleasurable and
painful sensations. The Causes of these sensations. The Ideas of them,
and of their causes. Hope, Fear; Love, Joy; Hatred, Aversion. Remote
causes of pleasures and pains--Wealth, Power, Dignity, and their
opposites. Affections towards our fellow-creatures--Friendship,
Kindness, &c. Motives. Dispositions. Applications to the virtue of
Prudence. Justice--by what motives supported. Beneficence. Importance
in moral training, of Praise and Blame, and their associations; the
Moral Sanction. Derivation of Disinterested Feelings.
AUSTIN. Laws defined and classified. The Divine Laws; how are we to
know the Divine Will? Utility the sole criterion. Objections to
Utility. Criticism of the theory of a Moral Sense. Prevailing
misconceptions as to Utility. Nature of Law resumed and illustrated.
Impropriety of the term 'law' as applied to the operations of Nature.
WHEWELL. Opposing schemes of Morality. Proposal to reconcile them.
There are some actions Universally approved. A Supreme Rule of Right
to be arrived at by combining partial rules: these are obtained from
the nature of our faculties. The rule of Speech is Truth; Property
supposes Justice; the Affections indicate Humanity. It is a
self-evident maxim that the Lower parts of our nature are governed by
the Higher. Classification of Springs of Action. Disinterestedness.
Classification of Moral Rules. Division of Rights.
FERRIER. Question of the Moral Sense: errors on both sides. Sympathy
passes beyond feeling, and takes in Thought or self-consciousness.
Happiness has two ends--the maintenance of man's Rational nature, and
Pleasure.
MANSEL. The conceptions of Right and Wrong are _sui generis_. The
moral law can have no authority unless emanating from a lawgiver. The
Standard is the moral nature, and not the arbitrary will, of God.
JOHN STUART MILL. Explanation of what Utilitarianism consists in.
Reply to objections against setting up Happiness as the Ethical end.
Ultimate Sanction of the principle of Utility: the External and
Internal sanctions; Conscience how made up. The sort of Proof that
Utility is susceptible of:--the evidence that happiness is desirable,
is that men desire it; it is consistent with Utility that virtue
should be desired for itself. Connexion between Justice and
Utility:--meanings of Justice; essentially grounded in Law; the
sentiments that support Justice, are Self-defence, and Sympathy;
Justice owes its paramount character to the essential of Security;
there are no immutable maxims of Justice.
BAILEY. Facts of the human constitution that give origin to moral
phenomena:--susceptibility to pleasure and pain, and to the causes of
them; reciprocation of these; our expecting reciprocation from others;
sympathy. Consideration of our feelings in regard to actions done to
us by others. Our feelings as spectators of actions done to others by
others. Actions done to ourselves by others. The different cases
combine to modify each other. Explanation of the discrepancies of the
moral sentiment in different communities. The consequences of actions
the only criterion for rectifying the diversities. Objections to the
happiness-test. The term Utility unsuitable. Disputes as to the origin
of moral sentiment in Reason or in a Moral Sense.
SPENCER. Happiness the ultimate, but not the proximate, end. Moral
Science a deduction from the laws of life and the conditions of
existence. There have been, and still are, developing in the race,
certain fundamental Moral Intuitions. The Expediency-Morality is
transitional. Reference to the general theory of Evolution.
KANT. Distinguishes between the empirical and the rational mode of
treating Ethics. Nothing properly good, except _Will_. Subjection of
Will to Reason. An action done from natural inclination is worthless
morally. Duty is respect for Law; conformity to Law is the one
principle of volition. Moral Law not ascertainable empirically, it
must originate _a priori_ in pure (practical) Reason. The Hypothetical
and Categorical Imperatives. Imperative of Prudence. Imperative of
Morality. The formula of Morality. The ends of Morality. The Rational
nature of man is an end-in-itself. The Will the source of its own
laws--the Autonomy of the Will. The Reason of Ends. Morality alone has
intrinsic Worth or Dignity. Principles founded on the Heteronomy of
the Will--Happiness, Perfection. Duty legitimized by the conception of
the Freedom of the Will, properly understood. Postulates of the pure
Practical Reason--Freedom, Immortality, God. Summary.
COUSIN. Analysis of the sentiments aroused in us by human actions. The
Moral Sentiment made up of a variety of moral judgments--Good and
Evil, Obligation, Liberty, Merit and Demerit. Virtue brings Happiness.
Moral Satisfaction and Remorse. The Law of Duty is conformity to
Reason. The characteristic of Reason is Universality. Classification
of Duties:--Duties to Self; to Others--Truth, Justice, Charity.
Application to Politics.
JOUFFROY. Each creature has a special nature, and a special end. Man
has certain primary passions to be satisfied. Secondary passions--the
Useful, the Good, Happiness. All the faculties controlled by the
Reason. The End of Interest. End of Universal Order. Morality the
expression of divine thought; identified with the beautiful and the
true. The moral law and self-interest coincide. Boundaries of the
three states--Passion, Egoism, Moral determination.
ETHICS
PART I.
THE THEORY OF ETHICS.
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMINARY VIEW OF ETHICAL, QUESTIONS.
As a preface to the account of the Ethical Systems, and a principle of
arrangement, for the better comparing of them, we shall review in
order the questions that arise in the discussion.
I. First of all is the question as to the ETHICAL STANDARD. What, in
the last resort, is the test, criterion, umpire, appeal, or Standard,
in determining Right and Wrong? In the concrete language of Paley,
"Why am I obliged to keep my word? The answer to this is the Theory of
Right and Wrong, the essential part of every Ethical System."
We may quote the leading answers, as both explaining and summarizing
the chief question of Ethics, and more especially of Modern Ethics.
1. It is alleged that the arbitrary Will of the Deity, as expressed in
the Bible, is the ultimate standard. On this view anything thus
commanded is right, whatever be its consequences, or however it may
clash with our sentiments and reasonings.
2. It was maintained by Hobbes, that the Sovereign, acting under his
responsibility to God, is the sole arbiter of Right and Wrong. As
regards Obligatory Morality, this seems at first sight an identical
proposition; morality is another name for law and sovereignty. In the
view of Hobbes, however, the sovereign should be a single person, of
absolute authority, humanly irresponsible, and irremoveable; a type of
sovereignty repudiated by civilized nations.
3. It has been held, in various phraseology, that a certain _fitness_,
suitability, or propriety in actions, as determined by our
Understanding or Reason, is the ultimate test. "When a man keeps his
word, there is a certain congruity or consistency between the action
and the occasion, between the making of a promise and its fulfilment;
and wherever such congruity is discernible, the action is right." This
is the view of Cudworth, Clarke, and Price. It may be called the
Intellectual or Rational theory.
A special and more abstract form of the same theory is presented in
the dictum of Kant--'act in such a way that your conduct might be a
law to all beings.'
4. It is contended, that the human mind possesses an intuition or
instinct, whereby we feel or discern at once the right from the wrong;
a view termed the doctrine of the Moral Sense, or Moral Sentiment.
Besides being supported by numerous theorizers in Ethics, this is the
prevailing and popular doctrine; it underlies most of the language of
moral suasion. The difficulties attending the stricter interpretation
of it have led to various modes of qualifying and explaining it, as
will afterwards appear. Shaftesbury and Hutcheson are more especially
identified with the enunciation of this doctrine in its modern aspect.
5. It was put forth by Mandeville that Self-interest is the only test
of moral rightness. Self-preservation is the first law of being; and
even when we are labouring for the good of others, we are still having
regard to our own interest.
6. The theory called, Utility, and Utilitarianism, supposes that the
well-being or happiness of mankind is the sole end, and ultimate
standard of morality. The agent takes account both of his own
happiness and of the happiness of others, subordinating, on proper
occasions, the first to the second. This theory is definite in its
opposition to all the others, but admits of considerable latitude of
view within itself. Stoicism and Epicureanism, are both included in
its compass.
The two last-named theories--Self-Interest, and Utility or the Common
Well-Being, have exclusive regard to the consequences of actions; the
others assign to consequences a subordinate position. The terms
External and Dependent are also used to express the reference to
Happiness as the end: Internal and Independent are the contrasting
epithets.
II. Ethical Theory embraces certain questions of pure PSYCHOLOGY.
1. The Psychological nature of Conscience, the Moral Sense, or by
whatever name we designate the faculty of distinguishing right and
wrong, together with the motive power to follow the one and eschew the
other. That such a faculty exists is admitted. The question is, what
is its place and origin in the mind?
On the one side, Conscience is held to be a _unique_ and ultimate
power of the mind, like the feeling of Resistance, the sense of Taste,
or the consciousness of Agreement. On the other side, Conscience is
viewed as a growth or derivation from other recognized properties of
the mind. The Theory of the Standard (4) called the doctrine of the
Moral Sense, proceeds upon the first view; on that theory, the
Standard and the Faculty make properly but one question. All other
theories are more or less compatible with the composite or derivative
nature of Conscience; the supporters of Utility, in particular, adopt
this alternative.
2. A second Psychological question, regarded by many (notably by Kant)
as vitally implicated in Moral Obligation, is the Freedom of the Will.
The history of opinion on this subject has been in great part already
given.
3. Thirdly, It has been debated, on Psychological grounds, whether our
Benevolent actions (which all admit) are ultimately modes of
self-regard, or whether there be, in the human mind, a source of
purely Disinterested conduct. The first view, or the reference of
benevolence to Self, admits of degrees and varieties of statement.
(1) It may be held that in performing good actions, we expect and
obtain an immediate reward fully equivalent to the sacrifice made.
Occasionally we are rewarded in kind; but the reward most usually
forthcoming (according to Mandeville), is praise or flattery, to which
the human mind is acutely sensitive.
(2) Our constitution may be such that we are pained by the sight of an
object in distress, and give assistance, to relieve ourselves of the
pain. This was the view of Hobbes; and it is also admitted by
Mandeville as a secondary motive.
(3) We may be so formed as to derive enjoyment from the performance of
acts of kindness, in the same immediate way that we are gratified by
warmth, flowers, or music; we should thus be moved to benevolence by
an intrinsic pleasure, and not by extraneous consequences.
Bentham speaks of the pleasures and the pains of Benevolence, meaning
that we derive pleasure from causing pleasure to others, and pain from
the sight of pain in others.
(4) It may be affirmed that, although we have not by nature any purely
disinterested impulses, these are generated in us by associations and
habits, in a manner similar to the conversion of means into final
ends, as in the case of money. This is the view propounded by James
Mill, and by Mackintosh.
Allowance being made for a certain amount of fact in these various
modes of connecting Benevolence with self, it is still maintained in
the present work, as by Butler, Hume, Adam Smith, and others, that
human beings are (although very unequally) endowed with a prompting to
relieve the pains and add to the pleasures of others, irrespective of
all self-regarding considerations; and that such prompting is not a
product of associations with self.
In the ancient world, purely disinterested conduct was abundantly
manifested in practice, although not made prominent in Ethical Theory.
The enumeration of the Cardinal Virtues does not expressly contain
Benevolence; but under Courage, Self-sacrifice was implied. Patriotic
Self-devotion, Love, and Friendship were virtues highly cultivated. In
Cicero, Seneca, and Marcus Aurelius, there is a recognition of general
Benevolence.
The two heads now sketched--The Standard and the Psychology of our
Moral nature--almost entirely exhaust modern Ethics. Smith, Stewart,
and Mackintosh agree in laying down as the points in dispute these
two:--First, What does virtue consist in? Secondly, What is the power
or faculty of the mind that discovers and enforces it?
These two positions, however, are inadequate as regards Ancient
Ethics. For remedying the deficiency, and for bringing to light
matters necessary to the completeness of an Ethical survey, we add the
following heads:--
III. The Theory of what constitutes the Supreme END of Life, the BONUM
or the SUMMUM BONUM. The question as to the highest End has divided
the Ethical Schools, both ancient and modern. It was the point at
issue between the Stoics and the Epicureans. That Happiness is not the
highest end has been averred, in modern times, by Butler and others:
the opposite position is held by the supporters of Utility. What may
be called the severe and ascetic systems (theoretically) refuse to
sanction any pursuit of happiness or pleasure, except through virtue,
or duty to others. The view practically proceeded upon, now and in
most ages, is that virtue discharges a man's obligations to his
fellows, which being accomplished, he is then at liberty to seek what
pleases himself. (For the application of the laws of mind to the
theory of HAPPINESS, see Appendix C.)
IV.-The CLASSIFICATION OF DUTIES is characteristic of different
systems and different authors. The oldest scheme is the Four Cardinal
Virtues--Prudence, Courage, Temperance, Justice. The modern Christian
moralists usually adopt the division--Duties to God, to Others, to
Self.
Moreover, there are differences in the substance of Morality itself,
or the things actually imposed. The code under Christianity has varied
both from Judaism and from Paganism.
V.-The relationship of Ethics to POLITICS is close, while the points
of difference of the two are also of great importance. In Plato the
two subjects were inseparable; and in Aristotle, they were blended to
excess. Hobbes also joined Ethics and Politics in one system. (See
Chap, ii., Sec. 3.)
VI.-The relation of Ethics to THEOLOGY is variously represented in
modern systems. The Fathers and the Schoolmen accepted the authority
of the Bible chiefly on tradition, and did not venture to sit in
judgment on the substance of the revelation. They, therefore, rested
their Ethics exclusively on the Bible; or, at most, ventured upon
giving some mere supplement of its precepts.
Others, in more modern times, have considered that the moral character
of a revelation enters into the evidence in its favour; whence,
morality must be considered as independent, and exclusively human, in
its origin. It would be reasoning in a circle to derive the moral law
from the bible, and then to prove the bible from the moral law.
Religion superadds its own sanction to the moral duties, so far as
adopted by it; laying especial stress upon select precepts. It
likewise calls into being a distinct code of duties, the religious
duties strictly so called; which have no force except with believers.
The 'duties to God,' in the modern classification, are religious, as
distinguished from moral duties.
CHAPTER II.
THE ETHICAL STANDARD.
1. ETHICS, or Morality, is a department of Practice; and, as with
other practical departments, is defined by its End.
Ethics is not mere knowledge or speculation, like the sciences of
Astronomy, Physiology, or Psychology; it is knowledge applied to
practice, or useful ends, like Navigation, Medicine, or Politics.
Every practical subject has some end to be served, the statement of
which is its definition in the first instance. Navigation is the
applying of different kinds of knowledge, and of a variety of devices,
to the end of sailing the seas.
2. The Ethical End is a certain portion of the welfare
of human beings living together in society, realized through
rules of conduct duly enforced.
The obvious intention of morality is the good of mankind. The
precepts--do not steal, do not kill, fulfil agreements, speak
truth--whatever other reasons may be assigned for them, have a direct
tendency to prevent great evils that might otherwise arise in the
intercourse of human beings.
Farther, the good aimed at by Ethics is attained by _rules of acting_,
on the part of one human being to another; and, inasmuch as these
rules often run counter to the tendencies of the individual mind, it
is requisite to provide _adequate inducements_ to comply with them.
The Ethical End is what is otherwise called the STANDARD, test, or
criterion, of Right and Wrong. The leading controversy of Morals is
centered in this point.
3. The Rules of Ethics, termed also Law, Laws, the
Moral Law, are of two kinds:--
The first are rules imposed under a Penalty for neglect, or violation.
The penalty is termed _Punishment_; the imposing party is named
Government, or Authority; and the rules so imposed and enforced, are
called Laws proper, Morality proper, Obligatory Morality, Duty.
4. The second are rules whose only external support is
_Rewards_; constituting Optional Morality, Merit, Virtue,
or Nobleness.
Moral duties are a set of rules, precepts, or prescriptions, for the
direction of human conduct in a certain sphere or province. These
rules are enforced by two kinds of motives, requiring to be kept
distinct.
I.--One class of rules are made compulsory by the infliction of pain,
in the case of violation or neglect. The pain so inflicted is termed a
Penalty, or Punishment; it is one of the most familiar experiences of
all human beings living in society.
The Institution that issues Rules of this class, and inflicts
punishment when they are not complied with, is termed Government, or
Authority; all its rules are authoritative, or obligatory; they are
Laws strictly so called, Laws proper. Punishment, Government,
Authority, Superiority, Obligation, Law, Duty,--define each other;
they are all different modes of regarding the same fact.
Morality is thus in every respect analagous to Civil Government, or
the Law of the Land. Nay, farther, it squares, to a very great extent,
with Political Authority. The points where the two coincide, and those
where they do not coincide, may be briefly stated:--
(1) All the most essential parts of Morality are adopted and carried
out by the Law of the Land. The rules for protecting person and
property, for fulfilling contracts, for performing reciprocal duties,
are rules or laws of the State; and are enforced by the State, through
its own machinery. The penalties inflicted by public authority
constitute what is called the Political Sanction; they are the most
severe, and the most strictly and dispassionately administered, of all
penalties.
(2) There are certain Moral duties enforced, not by public and
official authority, but by the members of the community in their
private capacity. These are sometimes called the Laws of Honour,
because they are punished by withdrawing from the violator the honour
or esteem of his fellow-citizens. Courage, Prudence as regards self,
Chastity, Orthodoxy of opinion, a certain conformity in Tastes and
Usages,--are all prescribed by the mass of each community, to a
greater or less extent, and are insisted on under penalty of social
disgrace and excommunication. This is the Social or the Popular
Sanction. The department so marked out, being distinct from the
Political sphere, is called, by Austin, Positive Morality, or Morality
proper.
Public opinion also chimes in with the Law, and adds its own sanction
to the legal penalties for offences: unless the law happens to be in
conflict with the popular sentiment. Criminals, condemned by the law,
are additionally punished by social disgrace.
(3) The Law of the Land contains many enactments, besides the Moral
Code and the machinery for executing it. The Province of government
passes beyond the properly protective function, and includes many
institutions of public convenience, which are not identified with
right and wrong. The defence from external enemies; the erection of
works of public utility; the promotion of social improvements,--are
all within the domain of the public authority.[1]
II.--The second class of Rules are supported, not by penalties, but by
Rewards. Society, instead of punishing men for not being charitable or
benevolent, praises and otherwise rewards them, when they are so.
Hence, although Morality inculcates benevolence, this is not a Law
proper, it is not obligatory, authoritative, or binding; it is purely
voluntary, and is termed merit, virtuous and noble conduct.
In this department, the members of the community, in their unofficial
capacity, are the chief agents and administrators. The Law of the Land
occupies itself with the enforcement of its own obligatory rules,
having at its command a perfect machinery of punishment. Private
individuals administer praise, honour, esteem, approbation, and
reward. In a few instances, the Government dispenses rewards, as in
the bestowal of office, rank, titles, and pensions, but this function
is exceptional and limited.
The conduct rewarded by Society is chiefly resolvable into
Beneficence. Whoever is moved to incur sacrifices, or to go through
labours, for the good of others, is the object, not merely of
gratitude from the persons benefited, but of approbation from society
at large.
Any remarkable strictness or fidelity in the discharge of duties
properly so called, receives general esteem. Even in matters merely
ceremonial, if importance be attached to them, sedulous and exact
compliance, being the distinction of the few, will earn the
approbation of the many.[2]
5. The Ethical End, or Morality, _as it has been_, is founded partly
on Well-being, or Utility: and partly on Sentiment.
The portions of Morality, having in view the prevention of human
misery and the promotion of human happiness, are known and obvious.
They are not the whole of Morality as it has been.
Sentiment, caprice, arbitrary liking or disliking, are names for
states of feeling that do not necessarily arise from their objects,
but may be joined or disjoined by education, custom, or the power of
the will. The revulsion of mind, on the part of the Jews, against
eating the pig, and on our own part, as regards horse flesh, is not a
primitive or natural sensibility, like the pain of hunger, or of cold,
or of a musical discord; it is purely artificial; custom has made it,
and could unmake it. The feeling of fatigue from overwork is natural;
the repugnance of caste to manual labour is factitious. The dignity
attached to the military profession, and the indignity of the office
of public executioner, are capricious, arbitrary, and sentimental. Our
prospective regard to the comforts of our declining years points to a
real interest; our feelings as to the disposal of the body after death
are purely factitious and sentimental. Such feelings are of the things
in our own power; and the grand mistake of the Stoics was their
viewing all good and evil whatever in the same light.
It is an essential part of human liberty, to permit each person to
form and to indulge these sentiments or caprices; although a good
education should control them with a view to our happiness on the
whole. But, when any individual liking or fancy of this description is
imposed as a law upon the entire community, it is a perversion and
abuse of power, a confounding of the Ethical end by foreign
admixtures. Thus, to enjoin authoritatively one mode of sepulture,
punishing all deviations from that, could have nothing to do with the
preservation of the order of society. In such a matter, the
interference of the state in modern times, has regard to the detection
of crime in the matter of life and death, and to the evils arising
from the putrescence of the dead.
6. The Ethical End, although properly confined to Utility, is subject
to still farther limitations, according to the view taken of the
Province of Moral Government, or Authority.
Although nothing should be made morally obligatory but what is
generally useful, the converse does not hold; many kinds of conduct
are generally useful, but not morally obligatory. A certain amount of
bodily exercise in the open air every day would be generally useful;
but neither the law of the land nor public opinion compels it. Good
roads are works of great utility; it is not every one's duty to make
them.
The machinery of coercion is not brought to bear upon every
conceivable utility. It is principally reserved, when not abused, for
a select class of utilities.
Some utilities are indispensable to the very existence of men in
society. The primary moral duties must be observed to some degree, if
men are to live together as men, and not to roam at large as beasts.
The interests of _Security_ are the first and most pressing concern of
human society. Whatever relates to this has a surpassing importance.
Security is contrasted with Improvement; what relates to Security is
declared to be Right; what relates to Improvement is said to be
Expedient; both are forms of Utility, but the one is pressing and
indispensable, the other is optional. The same difference is expressed
by the contrasts--Being and Well-being; Existence and Prosperous
Existence; Fundamentals or Essentials and Circumstantials. That the
highway robber should be punished is a part of Being; that the
highways should be in good repair, is a part of Well-being. That
Justice should be done is Existence; that farmers and traders should
give in to government the statistics of their occupation, is a means
to Prosperous Existence.[3]
It is proper to advert to one specific influence in moral enactments,
serving to disguise the Ethical end, and to widen the distinction
between morality as it has been, and morality as it ought to be. The
enforcing of legal and moral enactments demands a _power of coercion_,
to be lodged in the hands of certain persons; the possession of which
is a temptation to exceed the strict exigencies of public safety, or
the common welfare. Probably many of the whims, fancies, ceremonies,
likings and antipathies, that have found their way into the moral
codes of nations, have arisen from the arbitrary disposition of
certain individuals happening to be in authority at particular
junctures. Even the general community, acting in a spontaneous manner,
imposes needless restraints upon itself, delighting more in the
exercise of power, than in the freedom of individual action.
7. Morality, in its essential parts, is 'Eternal and Immutable;' in
other parts, it varies with Custom.
(1) The rules for protecting one man from another, for enforcing
justice, and the observance of contracts, are essential and
fundamental, and may be styled 'Eternal and Immutable.' The ends to be
served require these rules; no caprice of custom could change them
without sacrificing these ends. They are to society what food is to
individual life, of sexual intercourse and mother's care to the
continuance of the race. The primary moralities could not be exchanged
for rules enacting murder, pillage, injustice, unveracity, repudiation
of engagements; because under these rules, human society would fall to
pieces.
(2) The manner of carrying into effect these primary regulations of
society, varies according to Custom. In some communities the machinery
is rude and imperfect; while others have greatly improved it. The
Greeks took the lead in advancing judicial machinery, the Romans
followed.
In the regulations not essential to Being, but important to
Well-being, there has prevailed the widest discrepancy of usage. The
single department relating to the Sexes is a sufficient testimony on
this head. No one form of the family is indispensable to the existence
of society; yet some forms are more favourable to general happiness
than others. But which form is on the whole the best, has greatly
divided opinion; and legislation has varied accordingly. The more
advanced nations have adopted compulsory monogamy, thereby giving the
prestige of their authority in favour of that system. But it cannot be
affirmed that the joining of one man to one woman is a portion of
'Eternal and Immutable Morality.'
Morality is an Institution of society, but not an arbitrary
institution.
8. Before adducing the proofs in support of the position above
assumed, namely, that Utility or Human Happiness, with certain
limitations, is the _proper_ criterion of Morality, it is proper to
enquire, what sort of evidence the Ethical Standard is susceptible of.
Hitherto, the doctrine of Utility has been assumed, in order to be
fully stated. We must next review the evidence in its favour, and the
objections urged against it. It is desirable, however, to ask what
kind of proof should be expected on such a question.
In the Speculative or Theoretical sciences, we prove a doctrine by
referring it to some other doctrine or doctrines, until we come at
last to some assumption that must be rested in as ultimate or final.
We can prove the propositions of Euclid, the law of gravitation, the
law of atomic proportions, the law of association; we cannot prove our
present sensations, nor can we demonstrate that what has been, will
be. The ultimate data must be accepted as self-evident; they have no
higher authority than that mankind generally are disposed to accept
them.
In the practical Sciences, the question is not as to a principle of
the order of nature, but as to an _end_ of human action. There may be
_derived_ Ends, which are susceptible of demonstrative proof; but
there must also be _ultimate_ Ends, for which no proof can be offered;
they must be received as self-evident, and their sole authority is the
person receiving them. In most of the practical sciences, the ends are
derived; the end of Medicine is Health, which is an end subsidiary to
the final end of human happiness. So it is with Navigation, with
Politics, with Education, and others. In all of them, we recognize the
bearing upon human welfare, or happiness, as a common, comprehensive,
and crowning end. On the theory of Utility, Morals is also governed by
this highest end.
Now, there can be no proof offered for the position that Happiness is
the proper end of all human pursuit, the criterion of all right
conduct. It is an ultimate or final assumption, to be tested by
reference to the individual judgment of mankind. If the assumption,
that misery, and not happiness, is the proper end of life, found
supporters, no one could reply, for want of a basis of argument--an
assumption still more fundamental agreed upon by both sides. It would
probably be the case, that the supporters of misery, as an end, would
be at some point inconsistent with themselves; which would lay them
open to refutation. But to any one consistently maintaining the
position, there is no possible reply, because there is no medium of
proof.
If then, it appears, on making the appeal to mankind, that happiness
is admitted to be the highest end of all action, the theory of Utility
is proved.
9. The judgment of Mankind is very generally in favour of Happiness,
as the Supreme end of human conduct, Morality included.
This decision, however, is not given without qualifications and
reservations; nor is there perfect unanimity regarding it.
The theory of Motives to the Will is the answer to the question as to
the ends of human action. According to the primary law of the Will,
each one of us, for ourselves, seeks pleasure and avoids pain, present
or prospective. The principle is interfered with by the operation of
Fixed Ideas, under the influence of the feelings; whence we have the
class of Impassioned, Exaggerated, Irrational Motives or Ends. Of
these influences, one deserves to be signalized as a source of
virtuous conduct, and as approved of by mankind generally; that is,
Sympathy with others.
Under the Fixed Idea, may be ranked the acquired sense of Dignity,
which induces us often to forfeit pleasure and incur pain. We should
not choose the life of Plato's beatified oyster, or (to use
Aristotle's example) be content with perpetual childhood, with however
great a share of childish happiness.
10. The Ethical end that men are tending to, and may ultimately adopt
without reservation, is human Welfare, Happiness, or Being and
Well-being combined, that is, Utility.
The evidence consists of such facts as these:--
(1) By far the greater part of the morality of every age and country
has reference to the welfare of society. Even in the most
superstitious, sentimental, and capricious despotisms, a very large
share of the enactments, political and moral, consist in protecting
one man from another, and in securing justice between man and man.
These objects may be badly carried out, they may be accompanied with
much oppression of the governed by the governing body, but they are
always aimed at, and occasionally secured. Of the Ten Commandments,
four pertain to Religious Worship; _six_ are Utilitarian, that is,
have no end except to ward off evils, and to further the good of
mankind.
(2) The general welfare is at all times considered a strong and
adequate justification of moral rules, and is constantly adduced as a
motive for obedience. The commonplaces in support of law and morality
represent, that if murder and theft were to go unpunished, neither
life nor property would be safe; men would be in eternal warfare;
industry would perish; society must soon come to an end.
There is a strong disposition to support the more purely sentimental
requirements, and even the excesses of mere tyranny, by utilitarian
reasons.
The cumbersome ablutions of oriental nations are defended on the
ground of cleanliness. The divine sanctity of kings is held to be an
aid to social obedience. Slavery is alleged to have been at one time
necessary to break in mankind to industry. Indissoluble marriage arose
from a sentiment rather than from utility; but the arguments, commonly
urged in its favour, are utilitarian.
(3) In new cases, and in cases where no sentiment or passion is called
into play, Utility alone is appealed to. In any fresh enactment, at
the present day, the good of the community is the only justification
that would be listened to. If it were proposed to forbid absolutely
the eating of pork in Christian countries, some great public evils
would have to be assigned as the motive. Were the fatalities attending
the eating of pork, on account of _trichiniae_, to become numerous,
and unpreventible, there would then be a reason, such as a modern
civilized community would consider sufficient, for making the rearing
of swine a crime and an immorality. But no mere sentimental or
capricious dislike to the pig, on the part of any number of persons,
could now procure an enactment for disusing that animal.
(4) There is a gradual tendency to withdraw from the moral code,
observances originating purely in sentiment, and having little or no
connexion with human welfare.
We have abandoned the divine sacredness of kings. We no longer
consider ourselves morally bound to denounce and extirpate heretics
and witches, still less to observe fasts and sacred days. Even in
regard to the Christian Sabbath, the opinion is growing in favour of
withdrawing both the legal and popular sanction formerly so stringent;
while the arguments for Sabbath observance are more and more charged
with considerations of secular utility.
Should these considerations be held as adequate to support the
proposition advanced, they are decisive in favour of Utility as the
Moral Standard that _ought to be_. Any other standard that may be set
up in competition with Utility, must ultimately ground itself on the
very same appeal to the opinions and the practice of mankind.
11. The chief objections urged against Utility as the moral Standard
have been in great part anticipated. Still, it is proper to advert to
them in detail.
I.--It is maintained that Happiness is not, either in fact or in
right, the sole aim of human pursuit; that men actually, deliberately,
and by conscientious preference, seek other ends. For example, it is
affirmed that Virtue is an end in itself, without regard to happiness.
On this argument it may be observed:--
(1) It has been abundantly shown in this work, that one part of the
foregoing affirmation is strictly true. Men are not urged to action
exclusively by their pleasures and their pains. They are urged by
other motives, of the impassioned kind; among which, is to be
signalized sympathy with the pains and pleasures of others. If this
had been the only instance of action at variance with the regular
course of the will, we should be able to maintain that the motive to
act is still happiness, but not always the agent's own happiness. We
have seen, however, that individuals, not unfrequently, act in
opposition both to their own, and to other people's happiness; as when
mastered by a panic, and when worked up into a frenzy of anger or
antipathy.
The sound and tenable position seems to be this:--Human beings, in
their best and soberest moods, looking before and after, weighing all
the consequences of actions, are generally disposed to regard
Happiness, to some beings or others, as the proper end of all
endeavours. The mother is not exclusively bent on her own happiness;
she is upon her child's. Howard abandoned the common pleasures of life
for himself, to diminish the misery of fellow creatures.
(2) It is true that human beings are apt to regard Virtue as an
end-in-itself, and not merely as a means to happiness as the final
end. But the fact is fully accounted for on the general law of
Association by Contiguity; there being many other examples of the same
kind, as the love of money. Justice, Veracity, and other virtues, are
requisite, to some extent, for the existence of society, and, to a
still greater extent, for prosperous existence. Under such
circumstances, it would certainly happen that the means would
participate in the importance of the end, and would even be regarded
as an end in itself.
(3) The great leading duties may be shown to derive their estimation
from their bearing upon human welfare. Take first, Veracity or Truth.
Of all the moral duties, this has most the appearance of being an
absolute and independent requirement. Yet mankind have always approved
of deception practised upon an enemy in war, a madman, or a highway
robber. Also, secrecy or concealment, even although misinterpreted, is
allowed, when it does not cause pernicious results; and is even
enjoined and required in the intercourse of society, in order to
prevent serious evils. But an absolute standard of truth is
incompatible, even with secrecy or disguise; in departing from the
course of perfect openness, or absolute publicity of thought and
action, in every possible circumstance, we renounce ideal truth in
favour of a compromised or qualified veracity--a pursuit of truth in
subordination to the general well-being of society.
Still less is there any form of Justice that does not have respect to
Utility. If Justice is defined as giving to every one their own, the
motive clearly is to prevent misery to individuals. If there were a
species of injustice that made no one unhappier, we may be quite sure
that tribunals would not be set up for enforcing and punishing it. The
idea of equality in Justice is seemingly an absolute conception, but,
in point of fact, equality is a matter of institution. The children of
the same parent are, in certain circumstances, regarded as unequal by
the law; and justice consists in respecting this inequality.
The virtue of Self-denial, is one that receives the commendation of
society, and stands high in the morality of reward. Still, it is a
means to an end. The operation of the associating principle tends to
raise it above this point to the rank of a final end. And there is an
ascetic scheme of life that proceeds upon this supposition; but the
generality of mankind, in practice, if not always in theory, disavow
it.
(4) It is often affirmed by those that regard virtue, and not
happiness, as the end, that the two coincide in the long run. Now, not
to dwell upon the very serious doubts as to the matter of fact, a
universal coincidence without causal connexion is so rare as to be in
the last degree improbable. A fiction of this sort was contrived by
Leibnitz, under the title of 'pre-established harmony;' but, among the
facts of the universe, there are only one or two cases known to
investigation.
12. II.--It is objected to Utility as the Standard, that the bearings
of conduct on general happiness are too numerous to be calculated; and
that even where the calculation is possible, people have seldom time
to make it.
(1) It is answered, that the primary moral duties refer to conduct
where the consequences are evident and sure. The disregard of Justice
and Truth would to an absolute certainty bring about a state of
confusion and ruin; their observance, in any high degree, contributes
to raise the standard of well-being.
In other cases, the calculation is not easy, from the number of
opposing considerations. For example, there are two sides to the
question, Is dissent morally wrong? in other words, Ought all opinions
to be tolerated? But if we venture to decide such a question, without
the balancing or calculating process, we must follow blindfold the
dictates of one or other of the two opposing sentiments,--Love of
Power and Love of Liberty.
It is not necessary that we should go through the process of
calculation every time we have occasion to perform a moral act. The
calculations have already been performed for all the leading duties,
and we have only to apply the maxims to the cases as they arise.
13. III.--The principle of Utility, it is said, contains no motives to
seek the Happiness of others; it is essentially a form of Self-Love.
The averment is that Utility is a sufficient motive to pursue our own
happiness, and the happiness of others as a means to our own; but it
does not afford any purely disinterested impulses; it is a Selfish
theory after all.
Now, as Utility is, by profession, a benevolent and not a selfish
theory, either such profession is insincere, or there must be an
obstruction in carrying it out. That the supporters of the theory are
insincere, no one has a right to affirm. The only question then is,
what are the difficulties opposed by this theory, and not present in
other theories (the Moral Sense, for example) to benevolent impulses
on the part of individuals?
Let us view the objection first as regards the Morality of Obligation,
or the duties that bind society together. Of these duties, only a
small number aim at positive beneficence; they are either Protective
of one man against another, or they enforce Reciprocity, which is
another name for Justice. The chief exception is the requiring of a
minimum of charity towards the needy.
This department of duty is maintained by the force of a certain
mixture of prudential and of beneficent considerations, on the part of
the majority, and by prudence (as fear of punishment) on the part of
the minority. But there does not appear to be anything in our
professedly Benevolent Theory of Morals to interfere with the small
portion of disinterested impulse that is bound up-with prudential
regards, in the total of motives concerned in the morality of social
order called the primary or obligatory morality.
Let us, in the next place, view the objection as regards Optional
Morality, where positive beneficence has full play. The principal
motive in this department is Reward, in the shape either of benefits
or of approbation. Now, there is nothing to hinder the supporters of
the standard of Utility from joining in the rewards or commendations
bestowed on works of charity and beneficence.
Again, there is, in the constitution of the mind, a motive superior to
reward, namely, Sympathy proper, or the purely Disinterested impulse
to alleviate the pains and advance the pleasures of others. This part
of the mind is wholly _unselfish_; it needs no other prompting than
the fact that some one is in pain, or may be made happier by something
within the power of the agent.
The objectors need to be reminded that Obligatory Morality, which
works by punishment, creates a purely selfish motive; that Optional
Morality, in so far as stimulated by Reward, is also selfish; and that
the only source of purely disinterested impulses is in the unprompted
Sympathy of the individual mind. If such sympathies exist, and if
nothing is done to uproot or paralyze them, they will urge men to do
good to others, irrespective of all theories. Good done from any other
source or motive is necessarily self-seeking. It is a common remark,
with reference to the sanctions of a future life, that they create
purely self-regarding motives. Any proposal to increase disinterested
action by moral obligation contains a self-contradiction; it is
suicidal. The rich may be made to give half their wealth to the poor;
but in as far as they are _made_ to do it, they are not benevolent.
Law distrusts generosity and supersedes it. If a man is expected to
regard the happiness of others as an end in itself, and not as means
to his own happiness, he must be left to his own impulses: 'the
quality of mercy is not _strained_' The advocates of Utility may
observe non-interference as well as others.
CHAPTER III.
THE MORAL FACULTY.
1. The chief question in the Psychology of Ethics is whether the Moral
Faculty, or Conscience, be a simple or a complex fact of the mind.
Practically, it would seem of little importance in what way the moral
faculty originated, except with a view to teach us how it may be best
strengthened when it happens to be weak. Still, a very great
importance has been attached to the view, that it is simple and
innate; the supposition being that a higher authority thereby belongs
to it. If it arises from mere education, it depends on the teacher for
the time being; if it exists prior to all education, it seems to be
the voice of universal nature or of God.
2. In favour of the simple and intuitive character of Moral Sentiment,
it is argued:--
First, That our judgments of right and wrong are immediate and
instantaneous.
On almost all occasions, we are ready at once to pronounce an action
right or wrong. We do not need to deliberate or enquire, or to canvass
reasons and considerations for and against, in order to declare a
murder, a theft, or a lie to be wrong. We are fully armed with the
power of deciding all such questions; we do not hesitate, like a
person that has to consult a variety of different faculties or
interests. Just as we pronounce at once whether the day is light or
dark, hot or cold; whether a weight is light or heavy;--we are able to
say whether an action is morally right or the opposite.
3. Secondly, It is a faculty or power belonging to all mankind.
This was expressed by Cicero, in a famous passage, often quoted with
approbation, by the supporters of innate moral distinctions. 'There is
one true and original law conformable to reason and to nature,
diffused over all, invariable, eternal, which calls to duty and deters
from injustice, &c.'
4. Thirdly, Moral Sentiment is said to be radically different in its
nature from any other fact or phenomenon of the mind.
The peculiar state of discriminating right and wrong, involving
approbation and disapprobation, is considered to be entirely unlike
any other mental element; and, if so, we are precluded from resolving
or analyzing it into simpler modes of feeling, willing, or thinking.
We have many feelings that urge us to act and abstain from acting; but
the prompting of conscience has something peculiar to itself, which
has been expressed by the terms rightness, authority, supremacy. Other
motives,--hunger, curiosity, benevolence, and so on,--have might, this
has right.
So, the Intellect has many occasions for putting forth its aptitudes
of discriminating, identifying, remembering; but the operation of
discerning right and wrong is supposed to be a unique employment of
those functions.
5. In reply to these arguments, and in support of the view that the
Moral Faculty is complex and derived, the following considerations are
urged:--
First, The Immediateness of a judgment, is no proof of its being
innate; long practice or familiarity has the same effect.
In proportion as we are habituated to any subject, or any class of
operations, our decisions are rapid and independent of deliberation.
An expert geometer sees at a glance whether a demonstration is
correct. In extempore speech, a person has to perform every moment a
series of judgments as to the suitability of words to meaning, to
grammar, to taste, to effect upon an audience. An old soldier knows in
an instant, without thought or deliberation, whether a position is
sufficiently guarded. There is no greater rapidity in the judgments of
right and wrong, than in these acquired professional judgments.
Moreover, the decisions of conscience are quick only in the simpler
cases. It happens not unfrequently that difficult and protracted
deliberations are necessary to a moral judgment.
6. Secondly, The alleged similarity of men's moral judgments in all
countries and times holds only to a limited degree.
The very great differences among different nations, as to what
constitutes right and wrong, are too numerous, striking, and serious,
not to have been often brought forward in Ethical controversy. Robbery
and murder are legalized in whole nations. Macaulay's picture of the
Highland Chief of former days is not singular in the experience of
mankind.
'His own vassals, indeed, were few in number, but he came of the best
blood of the Highlands. He kept up a close connexion with his more
powerful kinsmen; nor did they like him the less because he was a
robber; for he never robbed them; and that robbery, merely as robbery,
was a wicked and disgraceful act, had never entered into the mind of
any Celtic chief.'
Various answers have been given by the advocates of innate morality to
these serious discrepancies.
(1) It is maintained that savage or uncultivated nations are not a
fair criterion of mankind generally: that as men become more
civilized, they approximate to unity of moral sentiment; and what
civilized men agree in, is alone to be taken as the judgment of the
race.
Now, this argument would have great weight, in any discussion as to
what is good, useful, expedient, or what is in accordance with the
cultivated reason or intelligence of mankind; because civilization
consists in the exercise of men's intellectual faculties to improve
their condition. But in a controversy as to what is given us by
nature,--what we possess independently of intelligent search and
experience,--the appeal to civilization does not apply. What civilized
men agree upon among themselves, as opposed to savages, is likely to
be the reverse of a natural instinct; in other words, something
suggested by reason and experience.
In the next place, counting only civilized races, that is, including
the chief European, American, and Asiatic peoples of the present day,
and the Greeks and Romans of the ancient world, we still find
disparities on what are deemed by us fundamental points of moral right
and wrong. Polygamy is regarded as right in Turkey, India, and China,
and as wrong in England. Marriages that we pronounce incestuous were
legitimate in ancient times. The views entertained by Plato and
Aristotle as to the intercourse of the sexes are now looked upon with
abhorrence.
(2) It has been replied that, although men differ greatly in what they
consider right and wrong, they all agree in possessing _some notion_
of right and wrong. No people are entirely devoid of moral judgments.
But this is to surrender the only position of any real importance. The
simple and underived character of the moral faculty is maintained
because of the superior authority attached to what is natural, as
opposed to what is merely conventional. But if nothing be natural but
the mere fact of right and wrong, while all the details, which alone
have any value, are settled by convention and custom, we are as much
at sea on one system as on the other.
(3) It is fully admitted, being, indeed, impossible to deny, that
education must concur with natural impulses in making up the moral
sentiment. No human being, abandoned entirely to native promptings, is
ever found to manifest a sense of right and wrong. As a general rule,
the strength of the conscience depends on the care bestowed on its
cultivation. Although we have had to recognize primitive distinctions
among men as to the readiness to take on moral training, still, the
better the training, the stronger will be the conscientious
determinations.
But this admission has the effect of reducing the part performed by
nature to a small and uncertain amount. Even if there were native
preferences, they might be completely overborne and reversed by an
assiduous education. The difference made by inculcation is so great,
that it practically amounts to everything. A voice so feeble as to be
overpowered by foreign elements would do no credit to nature.
7. Thirdly, Moral right and wrong is not so much a simple, indivisible
property, as an extensive Code of regulations, which cannot even be
understood without a certain maturity of the intelligence.
If is not possible to sum up the whole field of moral right and wrong,
so as to bring it within the scope of a single limited perception,
like the perception of resistance, or of colour. In regard to some of
the alleged intuitions at the foundation of our knowledge, as for
example time and space, there is a comparative simplicity and unity,
rendering their innate origin less disputable. No such simplicity can
be assigned in the region of duty.
After the subject of morals has been studied in the detail, it has,
indeed, been found practicable to comprise the whole, by a kind of
generalization, in one comprehensive recognition of regard to our
fellows. But, in the first place, this is far from a primitive or an
intuitive suggestion of the mind. It came at a late stage of human
history, and is even regarded as a part of Revelation. In the second
place, this high generality must be accompanied with detailed
applications to particular cases and circumstances. Life is full of
conflicting demands, and there must be special rules to adjust these
various demands. We have to be told that country is greater than
family; that temporary interests are to succumb to more enduring, and
so on.
Supposing the Love of our Neighbour to unfold in detail, as it
expresses in sum, the whole of morality, this is only another name for
our Sympathetic, Benevolent, or Disinterested regards, into which
therefore Conscience would be resolved, as it was by Hume.
But Morals is properly considered as a wide-ranging science, having a
variety of heads full of difficulty, and demanding minute
consideration. The subject of Justice, has nothing simple but the
abstract statement--giving each one their due; before that can be
applied, we must ascertain what is each person's due, which introduces
complex questions of relative merit, far transcending the sphere of
intuition.
If any part of Morals had the simplicity of an instinct, it would be
regard to Truth. The difference between truth and falsehood might
almost be regarded as a primitive susceptibility, like the difference
between light and dark, between resistance and non-resistance. That
each person should say what is, instead of what is not, may well seem
a primitive and natural impulse. In circumstances of perfect
indifference, this would be the obvious and usual course of conduct;
being, like the straight line, the shortest distance between two
points. Let a motive arise, however, in favour of the lie, and there
is nothing to insure the truth. Reference must be made to other parts
of the mind, from which counter-motives may be furnished; and the
intuition in favour of Truth, not being able to support itself, has to
repose on the general foundation of all virtue, the instituted
recognition of the claims of others.
8. Fourthly, Intuition is incapable of settling the debated questions
of Practical Morality.
If we recall some of the great questions of practical life that have
divided the opinions of mankind, we shall find that mere Intuition is
helpless to decide them.
The toleration of heretical opinions has been a greatly contested
point. Our feelings are arrayed on both sides; and there is no
prompting of nature to arbitrate between the opposing impulses. If the
advance of civilization has tended to liberty, it has been owing
partly to greater enlightenment, and partly to the successful
struggles of dissent in the war with established opinion.
The questions relating to marriage are wholly undecideable by
intuition. The natural impulses are for unlimited co-habitation. The
degree of restraint to be put upon this tendency is not indicated by
any sentiment that can be discovered in the mind. The case is very
peculiar. In thefts and murder, the immediate consequences are injury
to some one; in sexual indulgence, the immediate result is agreeable
to all concerned. The evils are traceable only in remote consequences,
which intuition can know nothing of. It is not to be wondered,
therefore, that nations, even highly civilized, have differed widely
in their marriage institutions; agreeing only in the propriety of
adopting and enforcing _some_ regulations. So essentially has this
matter been bound up with the moral code of every society, that a
proposed criterion of morality unable to grapple with it, would be
discarded as worthless. Yet there is no intuitive sentiment that can
be of any avail in the question of marriage with a deceased wife's
sister.
9. Fifthly, It is practicable to analyze or resolve the Moral Faculty;
and, in so doing, to explain, both its peculiar property, and the
similarity of moral judgments so far as existing among men.
We begin, by estimating the operation of (1) Prudence. (2) Sympathy,
and (3) the Emotions generally.
The inducements to perform a moral act, as, for example, the
fulfilling of a bargain,--are plainly seen to be of various kinds.
(1) Prudence, or Self-interest, has obviously much to do with the
moral conduct. Postponing for the present the consideration of
Punishment, which is one mode of appeal to the prudential regards, we
can trace the workings of self-interest on many occasions wherein men
act right. To fulfil a bargain is, in the great majority of cases, for
the advantage of the agent; if he fails to perform his part, others
may do the same to him.
Our self-interest may look still farther. We may readily discover that
if we set an example of injustice, it may be taken up and repeated to
such a degree that we can count upon nothing; social security comes to
an end, and individual existence, even if possible, would cease to be
desirable.
A yet higher view of self-interest informs us, that by performing all
our obligations to our fellows, we not only attain reciprocal
performance, but generate mutual affections and sympathies, which
greatly augment the happiness of life.
(2) Sympathy, or Fellow-feeling, the source of our disinterested
actions, must next be taken into the account. It is a consequence of
our sympathetic endowment that we revolt from inflicting pain on
another, and even forego a certain satisfaction to self rather than be
the occasion of suffering to a fellow creature. Moved thus, we perform
many obligations on the ground of the misery (not our own) accruing
from their neglect.
A considerable portion of human virtue springs directly from this
source. If purely disinterested tendencies were withdrawn from the
breast, the whole existence of humanity would be changed. Society
might not be impossible; there are races where mutual sympathy barely
exists: but the fulfilment of obligations, if always dependent on a
sense of self-interest, would fail where that was not apparent. On the
other hand, if we were on all occasions touched with the unhappiness
to others immediately and remotely springing from our conduct--if
sympathy were perfect and unfailing--we could hardly ever omit doing
what was right.
(3) Our several Emotions or Passions may co-operate with Prudence and
with Sympathy in a way to make both the one and the other more
efficacious.
Prudence, in the shape of aversion to pain, is rendered more acute
when the pain is accompanied with Fear. The perturbation of fear rises
up as a deterring motive when dangers loom in the distance. One
powerful check to the commission of injury is the retaliation of the
sufferer, which is a danger of the vague and illimitable kind,
calculated to create alarm.
Anger, or Resentment, also enters, in various ways, into our moral
impulses. In one shape it has just been noticed. In concurrence with
Self-interest and Sympathy, it heightens the feeling of reprobation
against wrong-doers.
The Tender Emotion, and the Affections, uphold us in the performance
of our duties to others, being an additional safeguard against injury
to the objects of the feelings. It has already been shown how these
emotions, while tending to coalesce with Sympathy proper, are yet
distinguished from it.
The AEsthetic Emotions have important bearings upon Ethical Sentiment.
As a whole, they are favourable to human virtue, being non-exclusive
pleasures. They, however, give a bias to the formation of moral rules,
and pervert the proper test of right and wrong in a manner to be
afterwards explained.
10. Although Prudence and Sympathy, and the various Emotions named,
are powerful inducements to what is right in action, and although,
without these, right would not prevail among mankind, yet they do not
stamp the _peculiar attribute_ of Rightness. For this, we must refer
to the institution of Government, or Authority.
Although the force of these various motives on the side of right is
all-powerful and essential, so much so, that without them morality
would be impossible, they do not, of themselves, impart the character
of a moral act. We do not always feel that, because we have neglected
our interest or violated our sympathies, we have on that account done
wrong. The criterion of rightness in particular cases is something
different.
The reasons are apparent. For although prudence, as regards self, and
sympathy or fellow-feeling, as regards others, would comprehend all
the interests of mankind--everything that morality can desire to
accomplish--nevertheless, the acting out of these impulses by each
individual at random would not suffice for the exigencies of human
life. They must be regulated, directed, reconciled by society at
large; each person must be made to work upon the same plan as every
other person. This leads to the institution of Government and
Authority, with the correlatives of Law, Obligation, and Punishment.
Our natural impulses for good are now directed into an artificial
channel, and it is no longer optional whether they shall fall into
that channel. The nature of the case requires all to conform alike to
the general arrangements, and whoever is not sufficiently urged by the
natural motives, is brought under the spur of a new kind of prudential
motive--Punishment.
Government, Authority, Law, Obligation, Punishment, are all implicated
in the same great Institution of Society, to which Morality owes its
chief foundation, and the Moral Sentiment its special attribute.
Morality is not Prudence, nor Benevolence, in their primitive or
spontaneous manifestations; it is the systematic codification of
prudential and benevolent actions, rendered obligatory by what is
termed penalties or Punishment; an entirely distinct motive,
artificially framed by human society, but made so familiar to every
member of society as to be a second nature. None are allowed to be
prudential or sympathizing in their own way. Parents are compelled to
nourish their own children; servants to obey their own masters, to the
neglect of other regards; all citizens have to abide by the awards of
authority; bargains are to be fulfilled according to a prescribed form
and letter; truth is to be spoken on certain definite occasions, and
not on others. In a formed society, the very best impulses of nature
fail to guide the citizen's actions. No doubt there ought to be a
general coincidence between what Prudence and Sympathy would dictate,
and what Law dictates; but the precise adjustment is a matter of
_institution_. A moral act is not merely an act tending to reconcile
the good of the agent with the good of the whole society; it is an
act, prescribed by the social authority, and rendered obligatory upon
every citizen. Its morality is constituted by its authoritative
prescription, and not by its fulfilling the primary ends of the social
institution. A bad law is still a law; an ill-judged moral precept is
still a moral precept, felt as such by every loyal citizen.
11. It may be proved, by such evidence as the case admits of, that the
peculiarity of the Moral Sentiment, or Conscience, is identified with
our education under government, or Authority.
Conscience is described by such terms as moral approbation and
disapprobation; and involves, when highly developed, a peculiar and
unmistakeable revulsion of mind at what is wrong, and a strong
resentment towards the wrong-doer, which become Remorse, in the case
of self.
It is capable of being proved, that there is nothing natural or
primitive in these feelings, except in so far as the case happens to
concur with the dictates of Self-interest, or Sympathy, aided by the
Emotions formerly specified. Any action that is hostile to our
interest, excites a form of disapprobation, such as belongs to wounded
self-interest; and any action that puts another to pain may so affect
our natural sympathy as to be disapproved, and resented on that
ground. These natural or inborn feelings are always liable to coincide
with moral right and wrong, although they are not its criterion or
measure in the mind of each individual. But in those cases where an
unusually strong feeling of moral disapprobation is awakened, there is
apt to be a concurrence of the primitive motives of self, and of
fellow-feeling; and it is the ideal of good law, and good morality to
coincide with a certain well-proportioned adjustment of the Prudential
and the Sympathetic regards of the individual.
The requisite allowance being made for the natural impulses, we must
now adduce the facts, showing that the characteristic of the Moral
Sense is an education under Law, or Authority, through the
instrumentality of Punishment.
(1) It is a fact that human beings living in society are placed under
discipline, accompanied by punishment. Certain actions are forbidden,
and the doers of them are subjected to some painful infliction; which
is increased in severity if they are persisted in. Now, what would be
the natural consequence of such a system, under the known laws of
feeling, will, and intellect? Would not an action that always brings
down punishment be associated with the pain and the dread of
punishment? Such an association is inevitably formed, and becomes at
least a part, and a very important part, of the sense of duty; nay, it
would of itself, after a certain amount of repetition, be adequate to
restrain for ever the performance of the action, thus attaining the
end of morality.
There may be various ways of evoking and forming the moral sentiment,
but the one way most commonly trusted to, and never altogether
dispensed with, is the associating of pain, that is, punishment, with
the actions that are disallowed. Punishment is held out as the
consequence of performing certain actions; every individual is made to
taste of it; its infliction is one of the most familiar occurrences of
every-day life. Consequently, whatever else may be present in the
moral sentiment, this fact of the connexion of pain with forbidden
actions must enter into it with an overpowering prominence. Any
natural or primitive impulse in the direction of duty must be very
marked and apparent, in order to divide with this communicated bias
the direction of our conduct. It is for the supporters of innate
distinctions to point out any concurring impetus (apart from the
Prudential and Sympathetic regards) sufficiently important to cast
these powerful associations into a secondary or subordinate position.
By a familiar effect of Contiguous Association, the dread of
punishment clothes the forbidden act with a feeling of aversion, which
in the end persists of its own accord, and without reference to the
punishment. Actions that have long been connected in the mind with
pains and penalties, come to be contemplated with a _disinterested_
repugnance; they seem to give pain on their own account. This is a
parallel, from the side of pain, of the acquired attachment to money.
Now, when, by such transference, a self-subsisting sentiment of
aversion has been created, the conscience seems to be detached from
all external sanctions, and to possess an isolated footing in the
mind. It has passed through the stage of reference to authority, and
has become a law to itself. But no conscience ever arrives at the
independent standing, without first existing in the reflected and
dependent stage.
We must never omit from the composition of the Conscience the primary
impulses of Self-Interest and Sympathy, which in minds strongly alive
to one or other, always count for a powerful element in human conduct,
although for reasons already stated, not the strictly moral element,
so far as the individual is concerned. They are adopted, more or less,
by the authority imposing the moral code; and when the two sources
coincide, the stream is all the stronger.
(2) Where moral training is omitted or greatly neglected, there is an
absence of security for virtuous conduct.
In no civilized community is moral discipline entirely wanting.
Although children may be neglected by their parents, they come at last
under the discipline of the law and the public. They cannot be
exempted from the associations of punishment with wrong. But when
these associations have not been early and sedulously formed, in the
family, in the school, and in the workshop, the moral sentiment is
left in a feeble condition. There still remain the force of the law
and of public opinion, the examples of public punishment, and the
reprobation of guilt. Every member of the community must witness daily
the degraded condition of the viciously disposed, and the prosperity
following on respect for the law. No human being escapes from thus
contracting moral impressions to a very large amount.
(3) Whenever an action is associated with Disapprobation and
Punishment, there grows up, in reference to it, a state of mind
undistinguishable from Moral Sentiment.
There are many instances where individuals are enjoined to a course of
conduct wholly indifferent with regard to universal morality, as in
the regulations of societies formed for special purposes. Each member
of the society has to conform to these regulations, under pain of
forfeiting all the benefits of the society, and of perhaps incurring
positive evils. The code of honour among gentlemen is an example of
these artificial impositions. It is not to be supposed that there
should be an innate sentiment to perform actions having nothing to
do-with moral right and wrong; yet the disapprobation and the remorse
following on a breach of the code of honour, will often be greater
than what follows a breach of the moral law. The constant habit of
regarding with dread the consequences of violating any of the rules,
simulates a moral sentiment, on a subject unconnected with morality
properly so called.
The arbitrary ceremonial customs of nations, with reference to such
points as ablutions, clothing, eating and abstinence from meats,--when
rendered obligatory by the force of penalties, occupy exactly the same
place in the mind as the principles of moral right and wrong. The same
form of dread attaches to the consequences of neglect; the same
remorse is felt by the individual offender. The exposure of the naked
person is as much abhorred as telling a lie. The Turkish woman
exposing her face, is no less conscience-smitten than if she murdered
her child. There is no act, however trivial, that cannot be raised to
the position of a moral act, by the imperative of society.
Still more striking is the growth of a moral sentiment in connexion
with such usages as the Hindoo suttee. It is known that the Hindoo
widow, if prevented from burning herself with her husband's corpse,
often feels all the pangs of remorse, and leads a life of misery and
self-humiliation. The habitual inculcation of this duty by society,
the penalty of disgrace attached to its omission, operate to implant a
sentiment in every respect analogous to the strongest moral sentiment.
PART II.
THE ETHICAL SYSTEMS.
The first important name in Ancient Ethical Philosophy is SOKRATES.
[469-399 B.C.]
For the views of Sokrates, as well as his method,[4] we have first the
MEMORABILIA of XENOPHON, and next such of the Platonic Compositions,
as are judged, by comparison with the Memorabilia, to keep closest to
the real Sokrates. Of these, the chief are the APOLOGY OF SOKRATES,
the KRITON and the PHAEDON.
The 'Memorabilia' was composed by Xenophon, expressly to vindicate
Sokrates against the accusations and unfavourable opinions that led to
his execution. The 'Apology' is Plato's account of his method, and
also sets forth his moral attitude. The 'Kriton' describes a
conversation between him and his friend Kriton, in prison, two days
before his death, wherein, in reply to the entreaties of his friends
generally that he should make his escape from prison, he declares his
determination to abide by the laws of the Athenian State. Inasmuch as,
in the Apology, he had seemed to set his private convictions above the
public authority, he here presents another side of his character. The
'Phaedon' contains the conversation on 'the Immortality of the Soul'
just before his execution.
The Ethical bearings of the Philosophical method, the Doctrines, and
the Life of Sokrates. are these:--
The direction he gave to philosophical enquiry, was expressed in the
saying that he brought 'Philosophy down from Heaven to Earth.' His
subjects were Man and Society. He entered a protest against the
enquiries of the early philosophers as to the constitution of the
Kosmos, the nature of the Heavenly Bodies, the theory of Winds and
Storms. He called these Divine things; and in a great degree useless,
if understood. The Human relations of life, the varieties of conduct
of men towards each other in all capacities, were alone within the
compass of knowledge, and capable of yielding fruit. In short, his
turn of mind was thoroughly _practical_, we might say _utilitarian_.
I.--He gave a foundation and a shape to Ethical Science, by insisting
on its practical character, and by showing that, like the other arts
of life, it had an End, and a Theory from which flows the precepts or
means. The End, which would be the STANDARD, was not stated by him,
and hardly even by Plato, otherwise than in general language; the
Summum Bonum had not as yet become a matter of close debate. 'The art
of dealing with human beings,' 'the art of behaving in society,' 'the
science of human happiness,' were various modes of expressing the
final end of conduct.[5] Sokrates clearly indicated the difference
between an unscientific and a scientific art; the one is an
incommunicable knack or dexterity, the other is founded on theoretical
principles.
II.--Notwithstanding his professing ignorance of what virtue is,
Sokrates had a definite doctrine with reference to Ethics, which we
may call his PSYCHOLOGY of the subject. This was the doctrine that
resolves Virtue into Knowledge, Vice into Ignorance or Folly. 'To do
right was the only way to impart happiness, or the least degree of
unhappiness compatible with any given situation: now, this was
precisely what every one wished for and aimed at--only that many
persons, from ignorance, took the wrong road; and no man was wise
enough always to take the right. But as no man was willingly his own
enemy, so no man ever did wrong willingly; it was because he was not
fully or correctly informed of the consequences of his own actions; so
that the proper remedy to apply, was enlarged teaching of consequences
and improved judgment. To make him willing to be taught, the only
condition required was to make him conscious of his own ignorance; the
want of which consciousness was the real cause both of indocility and
of vice' (Grote). This doctrine grew out of his favourite analogy
between social duty and a profession or trade. When the artizan goes
wrong, it is usually from pure ignorance or incapacity; he is willing
to do good work if he is able.
III.--The SUMMUM BONUM with Sokrates was Well-doing. He had no ideal
of pursuit for man apart from virtue, or what he esteemed virtue--the
noble and the praiseworthy. This was the elevated point of view
maintained alike by him and by Plato, and common to them with the
ideal of modern ages.
Well-doing consisted in doing well whatever a man undertook. 'The best
man,' he said, 'and the most beloved by the gods, is he that, as a
husbandman, performs well the duties of husbandry; as a surgeon, the
duties of the medical art; in political life, his duty towards the
commonwealth. The man that does nothing well is neither useful nor
agreeable to the gods.' And as knowledge is essential to all
undertakings, knowledge is the one thing needful. This exclusive
regard to knowledge was his one-sidedness as a moral theorist; but he
did not consistently exclude all reference to the voluntary control of
appetite and passion.
IV.--He inculcated Practical Precepts of a self-denying kind, intended
to curb the excesses of human desire and ambition. He urged the
pleasures of self-improvement and of duty against indulgences,
honours, and worldly advancement. In the 'Apology,' he states it as
the second aim of his life (after imparting the shock of conscious
ignorance) to reproach men for pursuing wealth and glory more than
wisdom and virtue. In 'Kriton,' he lays it down that we are never to
act wrongly or unjustly, although others are unjust to us. And, in his
own life, he furnished an illustrious example of his teaching. The
same lofty strain was taken up by Plato, and repeated in most of the
subsequent Ethical schools.
V.--His Ethical Theory extended itself to Government, where he applied
his analogy of the special arts. The legitimate King was he that knew
how to govern well.
VI.--The connexion in the mind of Sokrates between Ethics and Theology
was very slender.
In the first place, his distinction of Divine and Human things, was an
exclusion of the arbitrary will of the gods from human affairs, or
from those things that constituted the ethical end.
But in the next place, he always preserved a pious and reverential
tone of mind; and considered that, after patient study, men should
still consult the oracles, by which the gods, in cases of difficulty,
graciously signified their intentions, and their beneficent care of
the race. Then, the practice of well-doing was prompted by reference
to the satisfaction of the gods. In so far as the gods administered
the world in a right spirit, they would show favour to the virtuous.
PLATO. [427-347 B.C.]
The Ethical Doctrines of Plato are scattered through his various
Dialogues; and incorporated with his philosophical method, with his
theory of Ideas, and with his theories of man and of society.
From Sokrates, Plato derived Dialectics, or the method of Debate; he
embodied all his views in imaginary conversations, or Dialogues,
suggested by, and resembling the real conversations of Sokrates. And
farther, in imitation of his master, he carried on his search after
truth under the guise of ascertaining the exact meaning or definition
of leading terms; as Virtue, Courage, Holiness, Temperance, Justice,
Law, Beauty, Knowledge, Rhetoric, &c.
We shall first pass in review the chief Dialogues containing Ethical
doctrines.
The APOLOGY, KRITON, and EUTHYPHRON (we follow Mr. Grote's order) may
be passed by as belonging more to his master than to himself;
moreover, everything contained in them will be found recurring in
other dialogues.
The ALKIBIADES I. is a good specimen of the Sokratic manner. It brings
out the loose discordant notions of _Just_ and _Unjust_ prevailing in
the community; sets forth that the Just is also honourable, good, and
expedient--the cause of happiness to the just man; urges the
importance of Self-knowledge; and maintains that the conditions of
happiness are not wealth and power, but Justice and Temperance.
ALKIBIADES II. brings out a Platonic position as to the _Good_. There
are a number of things that are good, as health, money, family, but
there is farther required the skill to apply these in proper measure
to the supreme end of life. All knowledge is not valuable; there may
be cases where ignorance is better. What we are principally interested
in knowing is the Good, the Best, the Profitable. The man of much
learning, without this, is like a vessel tossed on the sea without a
pilot.[6]
In HIPPIAS MINOR, appears an extreme statement of the doctrine, common
to Sokrates and Plato, identifying virtue with knowledge, or giving
exclusive attention to the intellectual element of conduct. It is
urged that a mendacious person, able to tell the truth if he chooses,
is better than one unable to tell it, although wishing to do so; the
knowledge is of greater worth than the good disposition.
In MINOS (or the Definition of _Law_) he refuses to accept the decree
of the state as a law, but postulates the decision of some Ideal wise
man. This is a following out of the Sokratic analogy of the
professions, to a purely ideal demand; the wise man is never
producible. In many dialogues (Kriton, Laches, &c.) the decision of
some Expert is sought, as a physician is consulted in disease; but the
Moral expert is unknown to any actual community.
In LACHES, the question 'what is Virtue?' is put; it is argued under
the special virtue of _Courage_. In a truly Sokratic dialogue,
Sokrates is in search of a definition of Courage; as happens in the
search dialogues, there is no definite result, but the drift of the
discussion is to make courage a mode of intelligence, and to resolve
it into the grand desideratum of the knowledge of good and
evil--belonging to the One Wise Man.
CHARMIDES discusses _Temperance_. As usual with Plato in discussing
the virtues, with a view to their Logical definition, he presupposes
that this is something beneficial and good. Various definitions are
given of Temperance; and all are rejected; but the dialogue falls into
the same track as the Laches, in putting forward the supreme science
of good and evil. It is a happy example of the Sokratic manner and
purpose, of exposing the conceit of knowledge, the fancy that people
understand the meaning of the general terms habitually employed.
LYSIS on _Friendship_, or Love, might be expected to furnish some
ethical openings, but it is rather a piece of dialectic, without
result, farther than to impart the consciousness of ignorance. If it
suggests anything positive, it is the Idea of Good, as the ultimate
end of affection. The subject is one of special interest in ancient
Ethics, as being one of the aspects of Benevolent sentiment in the
Pagan world. In Aristotle we first find a definite handling of it.
MENON may be considered as pre-eminently ethical in its design. It is
expressly devoted to the question--Is Virtue _teachable_? Sokrates as
usual confesses that he does not know what virtue is. He will not
accept a catalogue of the admitted virtues as a definition of virtue,
and presses for some common, or defining attribute. He advances on his
own side his usual doctrine that virtue is Knowledge, or a mode of
Knowledge, and that it is good and profitable; which is merely an
iteration of the Science of good and evil. He distinguishes virtue
from Right Opinion, a sort of quasi-knowledge, the knowledge of
esteemed and useful citizens, which cannot be the highest knowledge,
since these citizens fail to impart it even to their own sons.
In this dialogue, we have Plato's view of Immortality, which comprises
both pre-existence and post-existence. The pre-existence is used to
explain the derivation of general notions, or Ideas, which are
antecedent to the perceptions of sense.
In PROTAGORAS, we find one of the most important of the ethical
discussions of Plato. It proceeds from the same question--Is virtue
teachable?--Sokrates as usual expressing his doubts on the point.
Protagoras then delivers a splendid harangue, showing how virtue is
taught--namely, by the practice of society in approving, condemning,
rewarding, punishing the actions of individuals. From childhood
upward, every human being in society is a witness to the moral
procedure of society, and by degrees both knows, and conforms to, the
maxims of virtue of the society. Protagoras himself as a professed
teacher, or sophist, can improve but little upon, this habitual
inculcation. Sokrates, at the end of the harangue, puts in his usual
questions tending to bring out the essence or definition of virtue,
and soon drives Protagoras into a corner, bringing him to admit a view
nowhere else developed in Plato, that Pleasure is the only good, Pain
the only evil, and that the science of Good and Evil consists in
Measuring, and in choosing between conflicting pleasures and
pains--preferring the greater pleasure to the less, the less pain to
the greater. For example, courage is a wise estimate of things
terrible and things not terrible. In consistency with the doctrine
that Knowledge is virtue, it is maintained here as elsewhere, that a
man knowing good and evil must act upon that knowledge. Plato often
repeats his theory of Measurement, but never again specifically
intimates that the things to be measured are pleasures and pains. And
neither here nor elsewhere, does he suppose the virtuous man taking
directly into his calculation the pleasures and pains of other
persons.
GORGIAS, one of the most renowned of the dialogues in point of
composition, is also ethical, but at variance with the Protagoras, and
more in accordance with Plato's predominating views. The professed
subject is Rhetoric, which, as an art, Sokrates professes to hold in
contempt. The dialogue begins with the position that men are prompted
by the desire of good, but proceeds to the great Platonic paradox,
that it is a greater evil to do wrong than to suffer wrong. The
criminal labours under a mental distemper, and the best thing that can
happen to him, is to be punished that so he may be cured. The
unpunished wrong-doer is more miserable than if he were punished.
Sokrates in this dialogue maintains, in opposition to the thesis of
Protagoras, that pleasure is not the same as good, that there are bad
pleasures and good pains; and a skilful adviser, one versed in the
science of good and evil, must discriminate between them. He does not
mean that those pleasures only are bad that bring an overplus of
future pains, which would be in accordance with the previous dialogue.
The sentiment of the dialogue is ascetic and self-denying.[7] Order or
Discipline is inculcated, not as a means to an end, but as an end in
itself.
The POLITIKUS is on the Art of Government, and gives the Platonic
_beau ideal_ of the One competent person, governing absolutely, by
virtue of his scientific knowledge, and aiming at the good and
improvement of the governed. This is merely another illustration of
the Sokratic ideal--a despotism, anointed by supreme good intentions,
and by an ideal skill. The Republic is an enlargement of the lessons
of the Politikus without the dialectic discussion.
The postulate of the One Wise man is repeated in KRATYLUS, on the
unpromising subject of Language or the invention of Names.
The PHILEBUS has a decidedly ethical character. It propounds for
enquiry the _Good_, the Summum Bonum. This is denied to be mere
pleasure, and the denial is enforced by Sokrates challenging his
opponent to choose the lot of an ecstatic oyster. As usual, good must
be related to Intelligence; and the Dialogue gives a long disquisition
upon the One and the Many, the Theory of Ideas, the Determinate and
the Indeterminate. Good is a compound of Pleasure and Intelligence,
the last predominating. Pleasure is the Indeterminate, requiring the
Determinate (Knowledge) to regulate it. This is merely another
expression for the doctrine of Measure, and for the common saying,
that the Passions must be controlled by Reason. There is, also, in the
dialogue, a good deal on the Psychology of Pleasure and Pain. Pleasure
is the fundamental harmony of the system; Pain its disturbance. Bodily
Pleasure pre-supposes pain [true only of some pleasures]. Mental
pleasures may be without previous pain, and are therefore pure
pleasures. A life of Intelligence is conceivable without either pain
or pleasure; this is the choice of the Wise man, and is the nature of
the gods. Desire is a mixed state, and comprehends body and mind. Much
stress is laid on the moderate and tranquil pleasures; the intense
pleasures, coveted by mankind, belong to a distempered rather than a
healthy state; they are false and delusive. Pleasure is, by its
nature, a change or transition, and cannot be a supreme end. The
mixture of Pleasure and Intelligence is to be adjusted by the
all-important principle of Measure or Proportion, which connects the
Good with the Beautiful.
A decided asceticism is the ethical tendency of this dialogue. It is
markedly opposed to the view of the Protagoras. Still greater is the
opposition between it and the two Erotic dialogues, Phaedrus and
Symposium, where _Bonum_ and _Pulchrum_ are attained in the pursuit of
an ecstatic and overwhelming personal affection.
The REPUBLIC starts with the question--what is JUSTICE? and, in
answering it, provides the scheme of a model Republic. Book I. is a
Sokratic colloquy, where one speaker, on being interrogated, defines
Justice as 'rendering to every man his due,' and afterwards amends it
to 'doing good to friends, evil to enemies.' Another gives 'the right
of the strongest.' A third maintains that Injustice by itself is
profitable to the doer; but, as it is an evil to society in general,
men make laws against it and punish it; in consequence of which,
Justice is the more profitable. Sokrates, in opposition, undertakes to
prove that Justice is good in itself, ensuring the happiness of the
doer by its intrinsic effect on his mind; and irrespective of
exemption from the penalties of injustice. He reaches this result by
assimilating an individual to a state. Justice is shown to be good in
the entire city, and by analogy it is also good in the individual. He
accordingly proceeds to construct his ideal commonwealth. In the
course of this construction many ethical views crop out.
The state must prescribe the religious belief, and allow no
compositions at variance with it. The gods must always be set forth as
the causes of good; they must never be represented as the authors of
evil, nor as practising deceit. Neither is it to be allowed to
represent men as unjust, yet happy; or just, and yet miserable. The
poetic representation of bad characters is also forbidden. The musical
training is to be adapted for disposing the mind to the perception of
Beauty, whence it becomes qualified to recognize the other virtues.
Useful fictions are to be diffused, without regard to truth. This
pious fraud is openly recommended by Plato.
The division of the human mind into (1) REASON or Intelligence; (2)
ENERGY, Courage, Spirit, or the Military Virtue; and (3) Many-headed
APPETITE, all in mutual counter-play--is transferred to the State,
each of the three parts being represented by one of the political
orders or divisions of the community. The happiness of the man and the
happiness of the commonwealth are attained in the same way, namely, by
realizing the four virtues--Wisdom, Courage, Temperance, Justice; with
this condition, that Wisdom, or Reason, is sought only in the Ruling
caste, the Elders; Courage, or Energy, only in the second caste, the
Soldiers or Guardians; while Temperance and Justice (meaning almost
the same thing) must inhere alike in all the three classes, and be the
only thing expected in the third, the Working Multitude.
If it be now asked, what and where is Justice? the answer is--'every
man to attend to his own business.' Injustice occurs when any one
abandons his post, or meddles with what does not belong to him; and
more especially when any one of a lower division aspires to the
function of a higher. Such is Justice for the city, and such is it in
the individual; the higher faculty--Reason, must control the two
lower--Courage and Appetite. Justice is thus a sort of harmony or
balance of the mental powers; it is to the mind what health is to the
body. Health is the greatest good, sickness the greatest evil, of the
body; so is Justice of the mind.
It is an essential of the Platonic Republic that, among the guardians
at least, the sexual arrangements should be under public regulation,
and the monopoly of one woman by one man forbidden: a regard to the
breed of the higher caste of citizens requires the magistrate to see
that the best couples are brought together, and to refuse to rear the
inferior offspring of ill-assorted connexions. The number of births is
also to be regulated.
In carrying on war, special maxims of clemency are to be observed
towards Hellenic enemies.
The education of the Guardians must be philosophical; it is for them
to rise to the Idea of the good, to master the science of Good and
Evil; they must be emancipated from the notion that Pleasure is the
good. To indicate the route to this attainment Plato gives his theory
of cognition generally--the theory of Ideas;--and indicates (darkly)
how these sublime generalities are to be reached.
The Ideal Commonwealth supposed established, is doomed to degradation
and decay; passing through Timocracy, Oligarchy, Democracy, to
Despotism, with a corresponding declension of happiness. The same
varieties may be traced in the Individual; the 'despotized' mind is
the acme of Injustice and consequent misery.
The comparative value of Pleasures is discussed. The pleasures of
philosophy, or wisdom (those of Reason), are alone true and pure; the
pleasures corresponding to the two other parts of the mind are
inferior; Love of Honour (from Courage or Energy), and Love of Money
(Appetite). The well-ordered mind--Justice--is above all things the
source of happiness. Apart from all consequences of Justice, this is
true; the addition of the natural results only enhances the strength
of the position.
In TIMAEUS, Plato repeats the doctrine that wickedness is to the mind
what disease is to the body. The soul suffers from two distempers,
madness and ignorance; the man under passionate heat is not wicked
voluntarily. No man is bad willingly; but only from some evil habit of
body, the effect of bad bringing-up [very much the view of Robert
Owen].
The long treatise called the LAWS, being a modified scheme of a
Republic, goes over the same ground with more detail. We give the
chief ethical points. It is the purpose of the lawgiver to bring about
happiness, and to provide all good things divine and human. The divine
things are the cardinal virtues--Wisdom, Justice, Temperance, Courage;
the human are the leading personal advantages--Health, Beauty,
Strength, Activity, Wealth. He requires the inculcation of
self-command, and a training in endurance. The moral and religious
feelings are to be guided in early youth, by the influence of Poetry
and the other Fine Arts, in which, as before, a stringent censorship
is to be exercised; the songs and dances are all to be publicly
authorized. The ethical doctrine that the just man is happy and the
unjust miserable, is to be preached; and every one prohibited from
contradicting it. Of all the titles to command in society, Wisdom is
the highest, although policy may require it to be conjoined with some
of the others (Birth, Age, Strength, Accident, &c.). It is to be a
part of the constitution to provide public exhortations, or sermons,
for inculcating virtue; Plato having now passed into an opposite phase
as to the value of Rhetoric, or continuous address. The family is to
be allowed in its usual form, but with restraints on the age of
marriage, on the choice of the parties, and on the increase of the
number of the population. Sexual intercourse is to be as far as
possible confined to persons legally married; those departing from
this rule are, at all events, to observe secresy. The slaves are not
to be of the same race as the masters. As regards punishment, there is
a great complication, owing to the author's theory that wickedness is
not properly voluntary. Much of the harm done by persons to others is
unintentional or involuntary, and is to be made good by reparation.
For the loss of balance or self-control, making the essence of
injustice, there must be a penal and educational discipline, suited to
cure the moral distemper; not for the sake of the past, which cannot
be recalled, but of the future. Under cover of this theory, the
punishments are abundantly severe; and the crimes include Heresy, for
which there is a gradation of penalties terminating in death.
We may now summarize the Ethics of Plato, under the general scheme as
follows:--
I.--The Ethical Standard, or criterion of moral Right and Wrong. This
we have seen is, ultimately, the Science of Good and Evil, as
determined by a Scientific or Wise man; the Idea of the Good, which
only a philosopher can ascend to. Plato gave no credit to the maxims
of the existing society; these were wholly unscientific.
It is obvious that this vague and indeterminate standard would settle
nothing practically; no one can tell what it is. It is only of value
as belonging to a very exalted and poetic conception of virtue,
something that raises the imagination above common life into a sphere
of transcendental existence.
II.--The Psychology of Ethics.
1. As to the Faculty of discerning Right. This is implied in the
foregoing statement of the criterion. It is the Cognitive or
Intellectual power. In the definite position taken up in Protagoras,
it is the faculty of Measuring pleasures against one another and
against pains. In other dialogues, measure is still the important
aspect of the process, although the things to be measured are not
given.
2. As regards the Will. The theory that vice, if not the result of
ignorance, is a form of madness, an uncontrollable fury, a mental
distemper, gives a peculiar rendering of the nature of man's Will. It
is a kind of Necessity, not exactly corresponding, however, with the
modern doctrine of that name.
3. Disinterested Sentiment is not directly and plainly recognized by
Plato. His highest virtue is self-regarding; a concern for the Health
of the Soul.
III.--On the Bonum, or Summum Bonum, Plato is ascetic and
self-denying. 1. We have seen that in Philebus, Pleasure is not good,
unless united with Knowledge or Intelligence; and the greater the
Intelligence, the higher the pleasure. That the highest happiness of
man is the pursuit of truth or Philosophy, was common to Plato and to
Aristotle.
2. Happiness is attainable only through Justice or Virtue. Justice is
declared to be happiness, first, in itself, and secondly, in its
consequences. Such is the importance attached to this maxim as a
safeguard of Society, that, whether true or not, it is to be
maintained by state authority.
3. The Psychology of Pleasure and Pain is given at length in the
Philebus.
IV.--With regard to the scheme of Duty. In Plato, we find the first
statement of the four Cardinal Virtues.
As to the Substance of the Moral Code, the references above made to
the Republic and the Laws will show in what points his views differed
from modern Ethics.
Benevolence was not one of the Cardinal Virtues.
His notions even of Reciprocity were rendered hazy and indistinct by
his theory of Justice as an end in itself.
The inducements, means, and stimulants to virtue, in addition to penal
discipline, are training, persuasion, or hortatory discourse,
dialectic cognition of the Ideas, and, above all, that ideal
aspiration towards the Just, the Good, around which he gathered all
that was fascinating in poetry, and all the associations of religion
and divinity. Plato employed his powerful genius in working up a lofty
spiritual reward, an ideal intoxication, for inciting men to the
self-denying virtues. He was the first and one of the greatest of
preachers. His theory of Justice is suited to preaching, and not to a
scientific analysis of society.
V.--The relation of Ethics to Politics is intimate, and even
inseparable. The Civil Magistrate, as in Hobbes, supplies the Ethical
sanction. All virtue is an affair of the state, a political
institution. This, however, is qualified by the demand for an ideal
state, and an ideal governor, by whom alone anything like perfect
virtue can be ascertained.
VI.--The relationship with Theology is also close. That is to say,
Plato was not satisfied to construct a science of good and evil,
without conjoining the sentiments towards the Gods. His Theology,
however, was of his own invention, and adapted to his ethical theory.
It was necessary to suppose that the gods were the authors of good, in
order to give countenance to virtue.
Plato was the ally of the Stoics, as against the Epicureans, and of
such modern theorists as Butler, who make virtue, and not happiness,
the highest end of man. With him, discipline was an end in itself, and
not a means; and he endeavoured to soften its rigour by his poetical
and elevated Idealism.
Although he did not preach the good of mankind, or direct beneficence,
he undoubtedly prepared the way for it, by urging self-denial, which
has no issue or relevance, except either by realizing greater
happiness to Self (mere exalted Prudence, approved of by all sects),
or by promoting the welfare of others.
THE CYNICS AND THE CYRENAICS.
These opposing sects sprang from Sokrates, and passed, with little
modification, the one into the Stoics, the other into the Epicureans.
Both ANTISTHENES, the founder of the Cynics, and ARISTIPPUS, the
founder of the Cyrenaics, were disciples of Sokrates.
Their doctrines chiefly referred to the Summum Bonum--the Art of
Living, or of Happiness.
The CYNICS were most closely allied to Sokrates; they, in fact,
carried out to the full his chosen mode of life. His favourite
maxim--that the gods had no wants, and that the most godlike man was
he that approached to the same state--was the Cynic Ideal. To subsist
upon the narrowest means; to acquire indifference to pain, by a
discipline of endurance; to despise all the ordinary pursuits of
wealth and pleasure,--were Sokratic peculiarities, and were the _beau
ideal_ of Cynicism.
The Cynic succession of philosophers were, (1) ANTISTHENES, one of the
most constant friends and companions of Sokrates; (2) DIOGENES of
Sinope, the pupil of Antisthenes, and the best known type of the sect.
(His disciple Krates, a Theban, was the master of Zeno, the first
Stoic.) (3) STILPON of Megara, (4) MENEDEMUS of Eretria, (5) MONIMUS
of Syracuse, (6) KRATES.
The two first heads of the Ethical scheme, so meagrely filled up by
the ancient systems generally, are almost a total blank as regards
both Cynics and Cyrenaics.
I.--As regards a Standard of right and wrong, moral good or evil, they
recognized nothing but obedience to the laws and customs of society.
II.--They had no Psychology of a moral faculty, of the will, or of
benevolent sentiment. The Cyrenaic Aristippus had a Psychology of
Pleasure and Pain.
The Cynics, instead of discussing Will, exercised it, in one of its
most prominent forms,--self-control and endurance.
Disinterested conduct was no part of their scheme, although the
ascetic discipline necessarily promotes abstinence from sins against
property, and from all the vices of public ambition.
III.--The proper description of both systems comes under the Summum
Bonum, or the Art of Living.
The Cynic Ideal was the minimum of wants, the habituation to pain,
together with indifference to the common enjoyments. The compensating
reward was exemption from fear, anxiety, and disappointment; also, the
pride of superiority to fellow-beings and of approximation to the
gods. Looking at the great predominance of misery in human life, they
believed the problem of living to consist in a mastery over all the
forms of pain; until this was first secured, there was to be a total
sacrifice of pleasure.
The Cynics were mostly, like Sokrates, men of robust health, and if
they put their physical constitution to a severe test by poor living
and exposure to wind and weather, they also saved it from the wear and
tear of steady industry and toil. Exercise of body and of mind, with a
view to strength and endurance, was enjoined; but it was the drill of
the soldier rather than the drudgery of the artisan.
In the eyes of the public, the prominent feature of the Cynic was his
contemptuous jeering, and sarcastic abuse of everybody around. The
name (Cynic, dog-like) denotes this peculiarity. The anecdotes
relating to Diogenes illustrate his coarse denunciation of men in
general and their luxurious ways. He set at defiance all the
conventions of courtesy and of decency; spoke his mind on everything
without fear or remorse; and delighted in his antagonism to public
opinion. He followed the public and obtrusive life of Sokrates, but
instead of dialectic skill, his force lay in vituperation, sarcasm,
and repartee. 'To Sokrates,' says Epiktetus, 'Zeus assigned the
cross-examining function; to Diogenes, the magisterial and chastising
function; to Zeno (the Stoic), the didactic and dogmatical.'
The Cynics had thus in full measure one of the rewards of asceticism,
the pride of superiority and power. They did not profess an end apart
from their own happiness; they believed and maintained that theirs was
the only safe road to happiness. They agreed with the Cyrenaics as to
the end; they differed as to the means.
The founders of the sect, being men of culture, set great store by
education, from which, however, they excluded (as it would appear)
both the Artistic and the Intellectual elements of the superior
instruction of the time, namely, Music, and the Sciences of Geometry,
Astronomy, &c. Plato's writings and teachings were held in low esteem.
Physical training, self-denial and endurance, and literary or
Rhetorical cultivation, comprise the items taught by Diogenes when he
became a slave, and was made tutor to the sons of his master.
IV.--As to the Moral Code, the Cynics were dissenters from the
received usages of society. They disapproved of marriage laws, and
maintained the liberty of individual tastes in the intercourse of the
sexes. Being free-thinkers in religion they had no respect for any of
the customs founded on religion.
V. The collateral relations of Cynical Ethics to Politics and to
Theology afford no scope for additional observations. The Cynic and
Cyrenaic both stood aloof from the affairs of the state, and were
alike disbelievers in the gods.
The Cynics appear to have been inclined to communism among themselves,
which was doubtless easy with their views as to the wants of life. It
is thought not unlikely that Sokrates himself held views of communism
both as to property and to wives; being in this respect also the
prompter of Plato (Grant's Ethics of Aristotle, Essay ii.).
The CYRENAIC system originated with ARISTIPPUS of Cyrene, another
hearer and companion of Sokrates. The temperament of Aristippus was
naturally inactive, easy, and luxurious; nevertheless he set great
value on mental cultivation and accomplishments. His conversations
with Sokrates form one of the most interesting chapters of Xenophon's
Memorabilia, and are the key to the plan of life ultimately elaborated
by him. Sokrates finding out his disposition, repeats all the
arguments in favour of the severe and ascetic system. He urges the
necessity of strength, courage, energy, self-denial, in order to
attain the post of ruler over others; which, however, Aristippus
fences by saying that he has no ambition to rule; he prefers the
middle course of a free man, neither ruling nor ruled over. Next,
Sokrates recalls the dangers and evil contingencies of subjection, of
being oppressed, unjustly treated, sold into slavery, and the
consequent wretchedness to one unhardened by an adequate discipline.
It is in this argument that he recites the well-known apologue called
the choice of Herakles; in which, Virtue on the one hand, and Pleasure
with attendant vice on the other, with their respective consequences,
are set before a youth in his opening career. The whole argument with
Aristippus was purely prudential; but Aristippus was not convinced nor
brought over to the Sokratic ideal. He nevertheless adopted a no less
prudential and self-denying plan of his own.
Aristippus did not write an account of his system; and the particulars
of his life, which would show how he acted it, are but imperfectly
preserved. He was the first theorist to avow and maintain that
Pleasure, and the absence of Pain, are the proper, the direct, the
immediate, the sole end of living; not of course mere present
pleasures and present relief from pain, but present and future taken
in one great total. He would surrender present pleasure, and incur
present pain, with a view to greater future good; but he did not
believe in the necessity of that extreme surrender and renunciation
enjoined by the Cynics. He gratified all his appetites and cravings
within the limits of safety. He could sail close upon the island of
Calypso without surrendering himself to the sorceress. Instead of
deadening the sexual appetite he gave it scope, and yet resisted the
dangerous consequences of associating with Hetaerae. In his enjoyments
he was free from jealousies; thinking it no derogation to his pleasure
that others had the same pleasure. Having thus a fair share of natural
indulgences, he dispenses with the Cynic pride of superiority and the
luxury of contemning other men. Strength of will was required for this
course no less than for the Cynic life.
Aristippus put forward strongly the impossibility of realizing all the
Happiness that might seem within one's reach; such were the attendant
and deterring evils, that many pleasures had to be foregone by the
wise man. Sometimes even the foolish person attained more pleasure
than the wise; such is the lottery of life; but, as a general rule,
the fact would be otherwise. The wisest could not escape the natural
evils, pain and death; but envy, passionate love, and superstition,
being the consequences of vain and mistaken opinion, might be
conquered by a knowledge of the real nature of Good and Evil.
As a proper appendage to such a system, Aristippus sketched a
Psychology of Pleasure and Pain, which was important as a beginning,
and is believed to have brought the subject into prominence. The soul
comes under three conditions,--a gentle, smooth, equable motion,
corresponding to Pleasure; a rough, violent motion, which is Pain; and
a calm, quiescent state, indifference or Unconsciousness. More
remarkable is the farther assertion that Pleasure is only _present_ or
_realized_ consciousness; the memory of pleasures past, and the idea
of pleasures to come, are not to be counted; the painful
accompaniments of desire, hope, and fear, are sufficient to neutralize
any enjoyment that may arise from ideal bliss, Consequently, the
happiness of a life means the sum total of these moments of realized
or present pleasure. He recognized pleasures of the mind, as well as
of the body; sympathy with the good fortunes of friends or country
gives a thrill of genuine and lively joy. Still, the pleasures and the
pains of the body, and of one's own self, are more intense; witness
the bodily inflictions used in punishing offenders.
The Cyrenaics denied that there is anything just, or honourable, or
base, by nature; all depended on the laws and customs. These laws and
customs the wise man obeys, to avoid punishment and discredit from the
society where he lives; doubtless, also, from higher motives, if the
political constitution, and his fellow citizens generally, can inspire
him with respect.
Neither the Cynics nor the Cyrenaics made any profession of generous
or disinterested impulses.
ARISTOTLE. [384-322 B.C.]
Three treatises on Ethics have come down associated with the name of
Aristotle; one large work, the Nicomachean Ethics, referred to by
general consent as the chief and important source of Aristotle's
views; and two smaller works, the Eudemian Ethics, and the Magna
Moralia, attributed by later critics to his disciples. Even of the
large work, which consists of ten books, three books (V. VI. VII.),
recurring in the Eudemian Ethics, are considered by Sir A. Grant,
though not by other critics, to have been composed by Eudemus, the
supposed author of this second treatise, and a leading disciple of
Aristotle.
Like many other Aristotelian treatises, the Nicomachean Ethics is
deficient in method and consistency on any view of its composition.
But the profound and sagacious remarks scattered throughout give it a
permanent interest, as the work of a great mind. There may be
extracted from it certain leading doctrines, whose point of departure
was Platonic, although greatly modified and improved by the genius and
personality of Aristotle.
Our purpose will be best served by a copious abstract of the
Nicomachean Ethics.
Book First discusses the Chief Good, or the Highest End of all human
endeavours. Every exercise of the human powers aims at some good; all
the arts of life have their several ends--medicine, ship-building,
generalship. But the ends of these special arts are all subordinate to
some higher end; which end is the chief good, and the subject of the
highest art of all, the Political; for as Politics aims at the welfare
of the state, or aggregate of individuals, it is identical with and
comprehends the welfare of the individual (Chaps. I., II.).
As regards the _method_ of the science, the highest exactness is not
attainable; the political art studies what is just, honourable, and
good; and these are matters about which the utmost discrepancy of
opinion prevails. From such premises, the conclusions which we draw
can only be probabilities. The man of experience and cultivation will
expect nothing more. Youths, who are inexperienced in the concerns of
life, and given to follow their impulses, can hardly appreciate our
reasoning, and will derive no benefit from it: but reasonable men will
find the knowledge highly profitable (III.).
Resuming the main question--What is the highest practical good--the
aim of the all-comprehending political science?--we find an agreement
among men as to the name _happiness_ [Greek: eudaimonia]; but great
differences as to the nature of the thing. The many regard it as made
up of the tangible elements--pleasures, wealth, or honour; while
individuals vary in their estimate according to each man's state for
the time being; the sick placing it in health, the poor in wealth, the
consciously ignorant in knowledge. On the other hand, certain
philosophers [in allusion to Plato] set up an absolute good,--an Idea
of the Good, apart from all the particulars, yet imparting to each its
property of being good (IV.).
Referring to men's lives (as a clue to their notions of the good), we
find three prominent varieties; the life of pleasure or
sensuality,--the political life, aspiring to honour,--and the
contemplative life. The first is the life of the brutes, although
countenanced by men high in power. The second is too precarious, as
depending on others, and is besides only a means to an end--namely,
our consciousness of our own merits; for the ambitious man seeks to be
honoured for his virtue and by good judges--thus showing that he too
regards virtue as the superior good. Yet neither will virtue satisfy
all the conditions. The virtuous man may slumber or pass his life in
inactivity, or may experience the maximum of calamity; and such a man
cannot be regarded as happy. The money-lender is still less entitled,
for he is an unnatural character; and money is obviously good as a
means. So that there remains only the life of contemplation;
respecting which more presently (V.).
To a review of the Platonic doctrine, Aristotle devotes a whole
chapter. He urges against it various objections, very much of a piece
with those brought against the theory of Ideas generally. If there be
but one good, there should be but one science; the alleged Idea is
merely a repetition of the phenomena; the recognized goods (_i.e._,
varieties of good) cannot be brought under one Idea; moreover, even
granting the reality of such an Idea, it is useless for all practical
purposes. What our science seeks is Good, human and attainable (VI.).
The Supreme End is what is not only chosen as an End, but is never
chosen except as an End: not chosen both for itself and with a view to
something ulterior. It must thus be--(1) An _end-in-itself_ pursued
for its own sake; (2) it must farther be _self-sufficing_ leaving no
outstanding wants--man's sociability being taken into account and
gratified. Happiness is such an end; but we must state more clearly
wherein happiness consists.
This will appear, if we examine what is the work appropriate and
peculiar to man. Every artist, the sculptor, carpenter, currier (so
too the eye and the hand), has his own peculiar work: and good, to
him, consists in his performing that work well. Man also has his
appropriate and peculiar work: not merely living--for that he has in
common with vegetables; nor the life of sensible perception--for that
he has in common with other animals, horses, oxen, &c. There remains
the life of man as a rational being: that is, as a being possessing
reason along with other mental elements, which last are controllable
or modifiable by reason. This last life is the peculiar work or
province of man. For our purpose, we must consider man, not merely as
possessing, but as actually exercising and putting in action, these
mental capacities. Moreover, when we talk generally of the work or
province of an artist, we always tacitly imply a complete and
excellent artist in his own craft: and so likewise when we speak of
the work of a man, we mean that work as performed by a complete and
competent man. Since the work of man, therefore, consists in the
active exercise of the mental capacities, conformably to reason, the
supreme good of man will consist in performing this work with
excellence or virtue. Herein he will obtain happiness, if we assume
continuance throughout a full period of life: one day or a short time
is not sufficient for happiness (VII.).
Aristotle thus lays down the outline of man's supreme Good or
Happiness: which he declares to be the beginning or principle [Greek:
archae] of his deductions, and to be obtained in the best way that the
subject admits. He next proceeds to compare this outline with the
various received opinions on the subject of happiness, showing that it
embraces much of what has been considered essential by former
philosophers: such as being 'a good of the mind,' and not a mere
external good: being equivalent to 'living well and doing well,'
another definition; consisting in virtue (the Cynics); in practical
wisdom--[Greek: phronaesis] (Sokrates); in philosophy; or in all these
coupled with pleasure (Plato, in the Philebus). Agreeing with those
who insisted on virtue, Aristotle considers his own theory an
improvement, by requiring virtue in act, and not simply in possession.
Moreover, he contends that to the virtuous man, virtuous performance
is in itself pleasurable; so that no extraneous source of pleasure is
needed. Such (he says) is the judgment of the truly excellent man;
which must be taken as conclusive respecting the happiness, as well as
the honourable pre-eminence of the best mental exercises.
Nevertheless, he admits (so far complying with the Cyrenaics) that
some extraneous conditions cannot be dispensed with; the virtuous man
can hardly exhibit his virtue in act, without some aid from friends
and property; nor can he be happy if his person is disgusting to
behold or his parentage vile (VIII.).
This last admission opens the door to those that place good fortune in
the same line with happiness, and raises the question, how happiness
is attained. By teaching? By habitual exercise? By divine grace? By
Fortune? If there be any gift vouchsafed by divine grace to man, it
ought to be this; but whether such be the case or not, it is at any
rate the most divine and best of all acquisitions. To ascribe such an
acquisition as this to Fortune would be absurd. Nature, which always
aims at the best, provides that it shall be attained, through a
certain course of teaching and training, by all who are not physically
or mentally disqualified. It thus falls within the scope of political
science, whose object is to impart the best character and active
habits to the citizens. It is with good reason that we never call a
horse happy, for he can never reach such an attainment; nor indeed can
a child be so called while yet a child, for the same reason; though in
his case we may hope for the future, presuming on a full term of life,
as was before postulated (IX.). But-this long term allows room for
extreme calamities and change in a man's lot. Are we then to say, with
Solon, that no one can be called happy so long as he lives? or that
the same man may often pass backwards and forwards from happiness to
misery? No; this only shows the mistake of resting happiness upon so
unsound a basis as external fortune. The only true basis of it is the
active manifestation of mental excellence, which no ill fortune can
efface from a man's mind (X.). Such a man will bear calamity, if it
comes, with dignity, and can never be made thoroughly miserable. If he
be moderately supplied as to external circumstances, he is to be
styled happy; that is, happy as a man--as far as man can reasonably
expect. Even after his decease he-will be affected, yet only feebly
affected, by the good or ill fortune of his surviving children.
Aristotle evidently assigns little or no value to presumed posthumous
happiness (XI.).
In his love of subtle distinctions, he asks, Is happiness a thing
admirable in itself, or a thing praiseworthy? It is admirable in
itself; for what is praiseworthy has a relative character, and is
praised as conducive to some ulterior end; while the chief good must
be an End in itself, for the sake of which everything else is done
(XII.). [This is a defective recognition of Relativity.]
Having assumed as one of the items of his definition, that man's
happiness must be in his special or characteristic work, performed
with perfect excellence,--Aristotle now proceeds to settle wherein
that excellence consists. This leads to a classification of the parts
of the soul. The first distribution is, into Rational and Irrational;
whether these two are separable in fact, or only logically separable
(like concave and convex), is immaterial to the present enquiry. Of
the irrational, the lowest portion is the Vegetative [Greek:
phytikon], which seems most active in sleep; a state where bad men and
good are on a par, and which is incapable of any human excellence. The
next portion is the Appetitive [Greek: epithymaetikon], which is not
thus incapable. It partakes of reason, yet it includes something
conflicting with reason. These conflicting tendencies are usually
modifiable by reason, and may become in the temperate man completely
obedient to reason. There remains Reason--the highest and sovereign
portion of the soul. Human excellence [Greek: aretae] or virtue, is
either of the Appetitive part,--moral [Greek: aethikae] virtue; or of
the Reason--intellectual [Greek: dianoaetikae] virtue. Liberality and
temperance are Moral virtues; philosophy, intelligence, and wisdom,
Intellectual (XIII.).
Such is an outline of the First Book, having for its subject the Chief
Good, the Supreme End of man.
Book Second embraces the consideration of points relative to the Moral
Virtues; it also commences Aristotle's celebrated definition and
classification of the virtues or excellencies.
Whereas intellectual excellence is chiefly generated and improved by
teaching, moral excellence is a result of habit [Greek: ethos]; whence
its name (Ethical). Hence we may see that moral excellence is no
inherent part of our nature: if it were, it could not be reversed by
habit--any more than a stone can acquire from any number of
repetitions the habit of moving upward, or fire the habit of moving
downward. These moral excellencies are neither a part of our nature,
nor yet contrary to our nature: we are by nature fitted to take them
on, but they are brought to consummation through habit. It is not with
them, as with our senses, where nature first gives us the power to see
and hear, and where we afterwards exercise that power. Moral virtues
are acquired only by practice. We learn to build or to play the harp,
by building or playing the harp: so too we become just or courageous,
by a course of just or courageous acts. This is attested by all
lawgivers in their respective cities; all of them shape the characters
of their respective citizens, by enforcing habitual practice. Some do
it well; others ill; according to the practice, so will be the
resulting character; as he that is practised in building badly, will
be a bad builder in the end; and he that begins on a bad habit of
playing the harp, becomes confirmed into a bad player. Hence the
importance of making the young perform good actions habitually and
from the beginning. The permanent ethical acquirements are generated
by uniform and persistent practice (I.). [This is the earliest
statement of the philosophy of _habit_.]
Everything thus turns upon practice: and Aristotle reminds us that his
purpose here is, not simply to teach what virtue is, but to produce
virtuous agents. How are we to know what the practice should be? It
must be conformable to right reason: every one admits this, and we
shall explain it further in a future book. But let us proclaim at
once, that in regard to moral action, as in regard to health, no exact
rules can be laid down. Amidst perpetual variability, each agent must
in the last resort be guided by the circumstances of the case. Still,
however, something may be done to help him. Here Aristotle proceeds to
introduce the famous doctrine of the MEAN. We may err, as regards
health, both by too much and by too little of exercise, food, or
drink. The same holds good in regard to temperance, courage, and the
other excellences (II.).
His next remark is another of his characteristic doctrines, that the
_test of a formed habit of virtue, is to feel no pain_; he that feels
pain in brave acts is a coward. Whence he proceeds to illustrate the
position, that moral virtue [Greek: aethikae aretae] has to do with
pleasures and pains. A virtuous education consists in making us feel
pleasure and pain at proper objects, and on proper occasions.
Punishment is a discipline of pain. Some philosophers (the Cynics)
have been led by this consideration to make virtue consist in apathy,
or insensibility; but Aristotle would regulate, and not extirpate our
sensibilities (III.).
But does it not seem a paradox to say (according to the doctrine of
habit in I.), that a man becomes just, by performing just actions;
since, if he performs just actions, he is already just? The answer is
given by a distinction drawn in a comparison with the training in the
common arts of life. That a man is a good writer or musician, we see
by his writing or his music; we take no account of the state of his
mind in other respects: if he knows how to do this, it is enough. But
in respect to moral excellence, such knowledge is not enough: a man
may do just or temperate acts, but he is not necessarily a just or
temperate man, unless he does them with right intention and on their
own account. This state of the internal mind, which is requisite to
constitute the just and temperate man, follows upon the habitual
practice of just and temperate acts, and follows upon nothing else.
But most men are content to talk without any such practice. They fancy
erroneously that _knowing_, without doing, will make a good man. [We
have here the reaction against the Sokratic doctrine of virtue, and
also the statement of the necessity of a _prosper motive_, in order to
virtue.]
Aristotle now sets himself to find a definition of virtue, _per genus
et differentiam_. There are three qualities in the Soul--_Passions_
[Greek: pathae], as Desire, Anger, Fear, &c., followed by pleasure or
pain; _Capacities_ or _Faculties_ [Greek: dynameis], as our capability
of being angry, afraid, affected by pity, &c.; _Fixed tendencies,
acquirements_, or _states_ [Greek: hexeis]. To which of the three does
virtue or excellence belong? It cannot be a Passion; for passions are
not in themselves good or evil, and are not accompanied with
deliberate choice [Greek: prouiresis], will, or intention. Nor is it a
Faculty: for we are not praised or blamed because we _can_ have such
or such emotions; and moreover our faculties are innate, which virtue
is not. Accordingly, virtue, or excellence, must be an acquirement
[Greek: hexis]--a State (V.). This is the _genus_.
Now, as to the _differentia_, which brings us to a more specific
statement of the doctrine of the _Mean_. The specific excellence of
virtue is to be got at from quantity in the abstract, from which we
derive the conceptions of more, less, and equal; or excess, defect,
and mean; the equal being the mean between excess and defect. But in
the case of moral actions, the arithmetical mean may not hold (for
example, six between two and ten); it must be a mean relative to the
individual; Milo must have more food than a novice in the training
school. In the arts, we call a work perfect, when anything either
added or taken away would spoil it. Now, virtue, which, like Nature,
is better and more exact than any art, has for its subject-matter,
passions and actions; all which are wrong either in defect or in
excess. Virtue aims at the mean between them, or the maximum of Good:
which implies a correct estimation of all the circumstances of the
act,--when we ought to do it--under what conditions--towards whom--for
what purpose--in what manner, &c. This is the praise-worthy mean,
which virtue aspires to. We may err in many ways (for evil, as the
Pythagoreans said, is of the nature of the Infinite, good of the
Finite), but we can do right only in one way; so much easier is the
path of error.
Combining then this _differentia_ with the _genus_, as above
established, the complete definition is given thus--'Virtue is an
acquirement or fixed state, tending by deliberate purpose (genus),
towards a mean relative to us (difference).' To which is added the
following all-important qualification, 'determined by reason [Greek:
logos], and as the _judicious man_ [Greek: ho Phronimos] would
determine.' Such is the doctrine of the Mean, which combines the
practical matter-of-fact quality of moderation, recognized by all
sages, with a high and abstract conception, starting from the
Pythagorean remark quoted by Aristotle, 'the Infinite, or Indefinite,
is evil, the Finite or the Definite is good,' and re-appearing in
Plato as 'conformity to measure' [Greek: metriotaes], by which he
(Plato) proposes to discriminate between good and evil. The concluding
qualification of virtue--'a rational determination, according to the
ideal judicious man'--is an attempt to assign a standard or authority
for what is the proper 'Mean;' an authority purely ideal or imaginary;
the actual authority being always, rightly or wrongly, the society of
the time.
Aristotle admits that his doctrine of Virtue being a mean, cannot have
an application quite universal; because there are some acts that in
their very name connote badness, which are wrong therefore, not from
excess or defect, but in themselves (VI.). He next proceeds to resolve
his general doctrine into particulars; enumerating the different
virtues stated, each as a mean, between two extremes--Courage,
Temperance, Liberality, Magnanimity, Magnificence, Meekness,
Amiability or Friendliness, Truthfulness, Justice (VII.). They are
described in detail in the two following books. In chap. VIII., he
qualifies his doctrine of Mean and Extremes, by the remark that one
Extreme may be much farther removed from the Mean than the other.
Cowardice and Rashness are the extremes of Courage, but Cowardice is
farthest removed from the Mean.
The concluding chapter (IX.) of the Book reflects on the great
difficulty of hitting the mean in all things, and of correctly
estimating all the requisite circumstances, in each particular case.
He gives as practical rules:--To avoid at all events the worst
extreme; to keep farthest from our natural bent; to guard against the
snare of pleasure. Slight mistakes on either side are little blamed,
but grave and conspicuous cases incur severe censure. Yet how far the
censure ought to go, is difficult to lay down beforehand in general
terms. There is the same difficulty in regard to all particular cases,
and all the facts of sense: which must be left, after all, to the
judgment of Sensible Perception [Greek: aisthaesis].
Book Third takes up the consideration of the Virtues in detail, but
prefaces them with a dissertation, occupying five chapters, on the
Voluntary and Involuntary. Since praise and blame are bestowed only on
voluntary actions,--the involuntary being pardoned, and even
pitied,--it is requisite to define Voluntary and Involuntary. What is
done under physical compulsion, or through ignorance, is clearly
involuntary. What is done under the fear of greater evils is partly
voluntary, and partly involuntary. Such actions are voluntary in the
sense of being a man's own actions; involuntary in that they are not
chosen on their own account; being praised or blamed according to the
circumstances. There are cases where it is difficult to say which of
two conflicting pressures ought to preponderate, and compulsion is an
excuse often misapplied: but compulsion, in its strict sense, is not
strength of motive at all; it is taking the action entirely out of our
own hands. As regards Ignorance, a difference is made. Ignorance of a
general rule is matter for censure; ignorance of particular
circumstances may be excused. [This became the famous maxim of
law,--'Ignorantia facti excusat, ignorantia juris non excusat.'] If
the agent, when better informed, repents of his act committed in
ignorance, he affords good proof that the act done was really
involuntary. Acts done from anger or desire (which are in the agent's
self) are not to be held as involuntary. (1) If they were, the actions
of brutes and children would be involuntary. (2) Some of these acts
are morally good and approved. (3) Obligation often attaches to these
feelings. (4) What is done from desire is pleasant; the involuntary is
painful. (5) Errors of passion are to be eschewed, no less than those
of reason (I.).
The next point is the nature of Purpose, Determination, or Deliberate
Preference [Greek: proairesis], which is in the closest kindred with
moral excellence, and is even more essential, in the ethical estimate,
than acts themselves. This is a part of the Voluntary; but not
co-extensive therewith. For it excludes sudden and unpremeditated
acts; and is not shared by irrational beings. It is distinct from
desire, from anger, from wish, and from opinion; with all which it is
sometimes confounded. Desire is often opposed to it; the incontinent
man acts upon his desires, but without any purpose, or even against
his purpose; the continent man acts upon his purpose, but against his
desires. Purpose is still more distinct from anger, and is even
distinct (though in a less degree) from wish [Greek: boulaesis], which
is choice of the End, while Purpose is of the Means; moreover, we
sometimes wish for impossibilities, known as such, but we never
purpose them. Nor is purpose identical with opinion [Greek: doxa],
which relates to truth and falsehood, not to virtue and vice. It is
among our voluntary proceedings, and includes intelligence; but is it
identical with predeliberated action and its results? (II.)
To answer this query, Aristotle analyzes the process of Deliberation,
as to its scope, and its mode of operation. We exclude from
deliberation things Eternal, like the Kosmos, or the incommensurability
of the side and the diagonal of a square; also things mutable, that are
regulated by necessity, by nature, or by chance; things out of our
power; also final ends of action, for we deliberate only about the
_means_ to ends. The deliberative process is compared to the
investigation of a geometrical problem. We assume the end, and enquire
by what means it can be produced; then again, what will produce the
means, until we at last reach something that we ourselves can command.
If, after such deliberation, we see our way to execution, we form a
Purpose, or Deliberate Preference [Greek: proairesis]. Purpose is then
definable as a deliberative appetency of things in our power (III.).
Next is started the important question as to the choice of the final
_End_. Deliberation and Purpose respect means; our Wish respects the
End--but what is the End that we wish? Two opinions are noticed;
according to one (Plato) we are moved to the good; according to the
other, to the apparent good. Both opinions are unsatisfactory; the one
would make out an incorrect choice to be no choice at all; the other
would take away all constancy from ends.
Aristotle settles the point by distinguishing, in this case as in
others, between what bears a given character simply and absolutely,
and what bears the same character relatively to this or that
individual. The object of Wish, simply, truly, and absolutely, is the
Good; while the object of Wish, to any given individual, is what
appears Good to him. But by the Absolute here, Aristotle explains that
he means what appears good to the _virtuous_ and _intelligent_ man;
who is is declared, here as elsewhere, to be the infallible standard;
while most men, misled by pleasure, choose what is not truly good. In
like manner, Aristotle affirms, that those substances are truly and
absolutely wholesome, which are wholesome to the healthy and
well-constituted man; other substances may be wholesome to the sick or
degenerate. Aristotle's Absolute is thus a Relative with its correlate
chosen or imagined by himself.
He then proceeds to maintain that virtue and vice are voluntary, and
in our own power. The arguments are these. (1) If it be in our power
to act right, the contrary is equally in our own power; hence vice is
as much voluntary as virtue. (2) Man must be admitted to be the origin
of his own actions. (3) Legislators and others punish men for
wickedness, and confer honour on good actions; even culpable ignorance
and negligence are punished. (4) Our character itself, or our fixed
acquirements, are in our power, being produced by our successive acts;
men become intemperate, by acts of drunkenness. (5) Not only the
defects of the mind, but the infirmities of the body also, are blamed,
when arising through our own neglect and want of training. (6) Even if
it should be said that all men aim at the apparent good, but cannot
control their mode of conceiving [Greek: phantasia] the end; still
each person, being by his acts the cause of his own fixed
acquirements, must be to a certain extent the cause of his own
conceptions. On this head, too, Aristotle repeats the clenching
argument, that the supposed imbecility of conceiving would apply alike
to virtue and to vice; so that if virtuous action be regarded as
voluntary, vicious action must be so regarded likewise. It must be
remembered that a man's fixed acquirements or habits are not in his
own power, in the same sense and degree in which his separate acts are
in his own power. Each act, from first to last, is alike in his power;
but in regard to the habit, it is only the initiation thereof that is
thoroughly in his power; the habit, like a distemper, is taken on by
imperceptible steps in advance (V.).
In the foregoing account of the Ethical questions connected with the
Will, Aristotle is happily unembroiled with the modern controversy.
The _mal-apropos_ of 'Freedom' had not been applied to voluntary
action. Accordingly, he treats the whole question from the inductive
side, distinguishing the cases where people are praised or blamed for
their conduct, from those where praise and blame are inapplicable as
being powerless. It would have been well if the method had never been
departed from; a sound Psychology would have improved the induction,
but would never have introduced any question except as to the relative
strength of the different feelings operating as motives to voluntary
conduct.
In one part of his argument, however, where he maintains that vice
must be voluntary, because its opposite, virtue, is voluntary, he is
already touching on the magical island of the bad enchantress;
allowing a question of fact to be swayed by the notion of factitious
dignity. Virtue is assumed to be voluntary, not on the evidence of
fact, but because there would be an _indignity_ cast on it, to suppose
otherwise. Now, this consideration, which Aristotle gives way to on
various occasions, is the motive underlying the objectionable
metaphor.
After the preceding digression on the Voluntary and Involuntary,
Aristotle takes up the consideration of the Virtues in order,
beginning with COURAGE, which was one of the received cardinal
virtues, and a subject of frequent discussion. (Plato, _Laches,
Protagoras, Republic_, &c.)
Courage [Greek: andreia], the mean between timidity and foolhardiness,
has to do with evils. All evils are objects of fear; but there are
some evils that even the brave man does right to fear--as disgrace.
Poverty or disease he ought not to fear. Yet, he will not acquire the
reputation of courage from not fearing these, nor will he acquire it
if he be exempt from fear when about to be scourged. Again, if a man
be afraid of envy from others, or of insults to his children or wife,
he will not for that reason be regarded as a coward. It is by being
superior to the fear of great evils, that a man is extolled as
courageous; and the greatest of evils is death, since it is a final
close, as well of good as of evil. Hence the dangers of war are the
greatest occasion of courage. But the cause must be honourable (VI.).
Thus the key to true courage is the quality or merit of the action.
That man is brave, who both fears, and affronts without fear, what he
ought and when he ought: who suffers and acts according to the value
of the cause, and according to a right judgment of it. The opposites
or extremes of courage include (1) Deficiency of fear; (2) Excess of
fear, cowardice; (3) Deficiency of daring, another formula for
cowardice; (4) Excess of daring, Rashness. Between these, Courage is
the mean (VII.).
Aristotle enumerates five analogous forms of quasi-courage,
approaching more or less to genuine courage. (1) The first, most like
to the true, is political courage, which is moved to encounter danger
by the Punishments and the Honours of society. The desire of honour
rises to virtue, and is a noble spring of action. (2) A second kind is
the effect of Experience, which dispels seeming terrors, and gives
skill to meet real danger. (3) Anger, Spirit, Energy [Greek: thymos] is
a species of courage, founded on physical power and excitement, but not
under the guidance of high emotions. (4) The Sanguine temperament, by
overrating the chances of success, gives courage. (5) Lastly, Ignorance
of the danger may have the same effect as courage (VIII.).
Courage is mainly connected with pain and loss. Men are called brave
for the endurance of pain, even although it bring pleasure in the end,
as to the boxer who endures bruises from the hope of honour. Death is
painful, and most so to the man that by his virtue has made life
valuable. Such a man is to be considered more courageous, as a soldier,
than a mercenary with little to lose (IX.).
The account of Courage thus given is remarkably exhaustive; although
the constituent parts might have been more carefully disentangled. A
clear line should be drawn between two aspects of courage. The one is
the resistance to Fear properly so called; that is, to the perturbation
that exaggerates coming evil: a courageous man, in this sense, is one
that possesses the true measure of impending danger, and acts according
to that, and not according to an excessive measure. The other aspect of
Courage, is what gives it all its nobleness as a virtue, namely,
_Self-sacrifice_, or the deliberate encountering of evil, for some
honourable or virtuous cause. When a man knowingly risks his life in
battle for his country, he may be called courageous, but he is still
better described as a heroic and devoted man.
Inasmuch as the leading form of heroic devotion, in the ancient world,
was exposure of life in war, Self-sacrifice was presented under the
guise of Courage, and had no independent standing as a cardinal virtue.
From this circumstance, paganism is made to appear in a somewhat
disadvantageous light, as regards self-denying duties.
Next in order among the excellences or virtues of the irrational
department of mind is TEMPERANCE, or Moderation, [Greek: sophrosynae],
a mean or middle state in the enjoyment of pleasure. Pleasures are
mental and bodily. With the mental, as love of learning or of honour,
temperance is not concerned. Nor with the bodily pleasures of muscular
exercise, of hearing and of smell, but only with the animal pleasures
of touch and taste: in fact, sensuality resides in touch; the pleasure
of eating being a mode of contact (X.).
In the desires natural and common to men, as eating and the nuptial
couch, men are given to err, and error is usually on the side of
excess. But it is in the case of special tastes or preferences, that
people are most frequently intemperate. Temperance does not apply to
enduring pains, except those of abstinence from pleasures. The extreme
of insensibility to pleasure is rarely found, and has no name. The
temperate man has the feelings of pleasure and pain, but moderates his
desires according to right reason (XL.). He desires what he ought, when
he ought, and as he ought: correctly estimating each separate case
(XII.). The question is raised, which is most voluntary, Cowardice or
Intemperance? (1) Intemperance is more voluntary than Cowardice, for
the one consists in choosing pleasure, while in the other there is a
sort of compulsory avoidance of pain. (2) Temperance is easier to
acquire as a habit than Courage. (3) In Intemperance, the particular
acts are voluntary, although not the habit; in Cowardice, the first
acts are involuntary, while by habit, it tends to become voluntary
(XII.).
[Temperance is the virtue most suited to the formula of the Mean,
although the settling of what is the mean depends after all upon a
man's own judgment. Aristotle does not recognize asceticism as a thing
existing. His Temperance is moderation in the sensual pleasures of
eating and love.]
Book Fourth proceeds with the examination of the Virtues or Ethical
Excellences.
LIBERALITY [Greek: eleutheristaes], in the matter of property, is the
mean of Prodigality and Illiberality. The right uses of money are
spending and giving. Liberality consists in giving willingly, from an
honourable motive, to proper persons, in proper quantities, and at
proper times; each individual case being measured by correct reason. If
such measure be not taken, or if the gift be not made willingly, it is
not liberality. The liberal man is often so free as to leave little to
himself. This virtue is one more frequent in the inheritors than in the
makers of fortunes. Liberality beyond one's means is prodigality. The
liberal man will receive only from proper sources and in proper
quantities. Of the extremes, prodigality is more curable than
illiberality. The faults of prodigality are, that it must derive
supplies from improper sources; that it gives to the wrong objects, and
is usually accompanied with intemperance. Illiberality is incurable: it
is confirmed by age, and is more congenial to men generally than
prodigality. Some of the illiberal fall short in giving--those called
stingy, close-fisted, and so on; but do not desire what belongs to
other people. Others are excessive in receiving from all sources; such
are they that ply disreputable trades (I.).
MAGNIFICENCE [Greek: megaloprepeia] is a grander kind of Liberality;
its characteristic is greatness of expenditure, with suitableness to
the person, the circumstances, and the purpose. The magnificent man
takes correct measure of each; he is in his way a man of Science
[Greek: ho de megaloprepaes epistaemoni eoike]--II. The motive must be
honourable, the outlay unstinted, and the effect artistically splendid.
The service of the gods, hospitality to foreigners, public works, and
gifts, are proper occasions. Magnificence especially becomes the
well-born and the illustrious. The house of the magnificent man will be
of suitable splendour; everything that he does will show taste and
propriety. The extremes, or corresponding defects of character, are, on
the one side, vulgar, tasteless profusion, and on the other, meanness
or pettiness, which for some paltry saving will spoil the effect of a
great outlay (II.).
MAGNANIMITY, or HIGH-MINDEDNESS [Greek: megalopsychia], loftiness of
spirit, is the culmination of the virtues. It is concerned with
greatness. The high-minded man is one that, being worthy, rates himself
at his real worth, and neither more (which is vanity) nor less (which
is littleness of mind). Now, worth has reference to external goods, of
which the greatest is honour. The high-minded man must be in the
highest degree honourable, for which he must be a good man; honour
being the prize of virtue. He will accept honour only from the good,
and will despise dishonour, knowing it to be undeserved. In all good or
bad fortune, he will behave with moderation; in not highly valuing even
the highest thing of all, honour itself, he may seem to others
supercilious. Wealth and fortune contribute to high-mindedness; but
most of all, superior goodness; for the character cannot exist without
perfect virtue. The high-minded man neither shuns nor courts danger;
nor is he indisposed to risk even his life. He gives favours, but does
not accept them; he is proud to the great, but affable to the lowly. He
attempts only great and important matters; is open in friendship and in
hatred; truthful in conduct, with an ironical reserve. He talks little,
either of himself or of others; neither desiring his own praise, nor
caring to utter blame. He wonders at nothing, bears no malice, is no
gossip. His movements are slow, his voice deep, his diction stately
(III.).
There is a nameless virtue, a mean between the two extremes of too much
and too little ambition, or desire of honour; the reference being to
smaller matters and to ordinary men. The fact that both extremes are
made terms of reproach, shows that there is a just mean; while each
extreme alternately claims to be the virtue, as against the other,
since there is no term to express the mean (IV.).
MILDNESS [Greek: praotaes] is a mean state with reference to Anger,
although inclining to the defective side. The exact mean, which has no
current name, is that state wherein the agent is free from perturbation
[Greek: atarachos], is not impelled by passion, but guided by reason;
is angry when he ought, as he ought, with whom, and as long as, he
ought: taking right measure of all the circumstances. Not to be angry
on the proper provocation, is folly, insensibility, slavish submission.
Of those given to excess in anger, some are quick, impetuous, and soon
appeased; others are sulky, repressing and perpetuating their
resentment. It is not easy to define the exact mean; each case must be
left to individual perception (V.).
The next virtue is Good-breeding in society, a balance between
surliness on the one hand, and weak assent or interested flattery on
the other. It is a nameless virtue, resembling friendship without the
special affection. Aristotle shows what he considers the bearing of the
finished gentleman, studying to give pleasure, and yet expressing
disapprobation when it would be wrong to do otherwise (VI.).
Closely allied to the foregoing is the observance of a due mean, in the
matter of Boastfulness. The boastful lay claim to what they do not
possess; false modesty [Greek: eironeia] is denying or underrating
one's own merits. The balance of the two is the straightforward and
truthful character; asserting just what belongs to him, neither more
nor less. This is a kind of truthfulness,--distinguished from 'truth'
in its more serious aspect, as discriminating between justice and
injustice--and has a worth of its own; for he that is truthful in
little things will be so in more important affairs (VII.).
In the playful intercourse of society, there is room for the virtue of
Wit, a balance or mean between buffoonish excess, and the clownish
dulness that can neither make nor enjoy a joke. Here the man of
refinement must be a law to himself (VIII.).
MODESTY [Greek: aidos] is briefly described, without being put through
the comparison with its extremes. It is more a feeling than a state, or
settled habit. It is the fear of ill-report; and has the physical
expression of fear under danger--the blushing and the pallor. It befits
youth as the age of passion and of errors. In the old it is no virtue,
as they should do nothing to be ashamed of (IX.).
Book Fifth (the first of the so-called Eudemian books), treats of
Justice, the Social virtue by pre-eminence. Justice as a virtue is
defined, the state of mind, or moral disposition, to do what is just.
The question then is--what is the just and the unjust in action? The
words seem to have more senses than one. The just may be (1) the
Lawful, what is established by law; which includes, therefore, all
obedience, and all moral virtue (for every kind of conduct came under
public regulation, in the legislation of Plato and Aristotle). Or (2)
the just may be restricted to the fair and equitable as regards
property. In both senses, however, justice concerns our behaviour to
some one else: and it thus stands apart from the other virtues, as
(essentially and in its first character) seeking another's good--not
the good of the agent himself (I.).
The first kind of justice, which includes all virtue, called Universal
Justice, being set aside, the enquiry is reduced to the Particular
Justice, or Justice proper and distinctive. Of this there are two
kinds, Distributive and Corrective (II.). Distributive Justice is a
kind of equality or proportion in the distribution of property,
honours, &c., in the State, according to the merits of each citizen;
the standard of worth or merit being settled by the constitution,
whether democratic, oligarchic, or aristocratic (III.). Corrective, or
Reparative Justice takes no account of persons; but, looking at cases
where unjust loss or gain has occurred, aims to restore the balance, by
striking an arithmetical mean (IV.). The Pythagorean idea, that Justice
is Retaliation, is inadequate; proportion and other circumstances must
be included. Proportionate Retaliation, or Reciprocity of services,--as
in the case of Commercial Exchange, measured through the instrument of
money, with its definite value,--is set forth as the great bond of
society. Just dealing is the mean between doing injustice and suffering
injustice (V.). Justice is definitely connected with Law, and exists
only between citizens of the State, and not between father and
children, master and slave, between whom there is no law proper, but
only a sort of relation analogous to law (VI.). Civil Justice is partly
Natural, partly conventional. The natural is what has the same force
everywhere, whether accepted or not; the conventional varies with
institutions, acquiring all its force from adoption by law, and being
in itself a matter of indifference prior to such adoption. Some persons
regard all Justice as thus conventional. They say--'What exists by
nature is unchangeable, and has everywhere the same power; for example,
fire burns alike in Persia and here; but we see regulations of justice
often varied--differing here and there.' This, however, is not exactly
the fact, though to a certain extent it is the fact. Among the gods
indeed, it perhaps is not the fact at all: but among men, it is true
that there exists something by nature changeable, though everything is
not so. Nevertheless, there are some things existing by nature, other
things not by nature. And we can plainly see, among those matters that
admit of opposite arrangement, which of them belong to nature and which
to law and convention; and the same distinction will fit in other cases
also. Thus the right hand is by nature more powerful than the left; yet
it is possible that all men may become ambidextrous. Those regulations
of justice that are not by nature, but by human appointment, are not
the same everywhere; nor is the political constitution everywhere the
same; yet there is one political constitution only that is by nature
the best everywhere (VII.).
To constitute Justice and Injustice in acts, the acts must be
voluntary; there being degrees of culpability in injustice according to
the intention, the premeditation, the greater or less knowledge of
circumstances. The act that a person does may perhaps be unjust; but he
is not, on that account, always to be regarded as an unjust man
(VIII.).
Here a question arises, Can one be injured voluntarily? It seems not,
for what a man consents to is not injury. Nor can a person injure
himself. Injury is a relationship between two parties (IX.). Equity
does not contradict, or set aside, Justice, but is a higher and finer
kind of justice, coming in where the law is too rough and general.
Book Sixth treats of Intellectual Excellences, or Virtues of the
Intellect. It thus follows out the large definition of virtue given at
the outset, and repeated in detail as concerns each of the ethical or
moral virtues successively.
According to the views most received at present, Morality is an affair
of conscience and sentiment; little or nothing is said about estimating
the full circumstances and consequences of each act, except that there
is no time to calculate correctly, and that the attempt to do so is
generally a pretence for evading the peremptory order of virtuous
sentiment, which, if faithfully obeyed, ensures virtuous action in each
particular case. If these views be adopted, an investigation of our
intellectual excellences would find no place in a treatise on Ethics.
But the theory of Aristotle is altogether different. Though he
recognizes Emotion and Intellect as inseparably implicated in the mind
of Ethical agents, yet the sovereign authority that he proclaims is not
Conscience or Sentiment, but Reason. The subordination of Sentiment to
Reason is with him essential. It is true that Reason must be supplied
with First Principles, whence to take its start; and these First
Principles are here declared to be, fixed emotional states or
dispositions, engendered in the mind of the agent by a succession of
similar acts. But even these dispositions themselves, though not
belonging to the department of Reason, are not exempt from the
challenge and scrutiny of Reason; while the proper application of them
in act to the complicated realities of life, is the work of Reason
altogether. Such an ethical theory calls upon Aristotle to indicate,
more or less fully, those intellectual excellences, whereby alone we
are enabled to overcome the inherent difficulties of right ethical
conduct; and he indicates them in the present Book, comparing them with
those other intellectual excellences which guide our theoretical
investigations, where conduct is not directly concerned.
In specifying the ethical excellences, or excellences of disposition,
we explained that each of them aimed to realize a mean--and that this
mean was to be determined by Right Reason. To find the mean, is thus an
operation of the Intellect; and we have now to explain what the right
performance of it is,--or to enter upon the Excellences of the
Intellect. The soul having been divided into Irrational and Rational,
the Rational must farther be divided into two parts,--the Scientific
(dealing with necessary matter), the Calculative, or Deliberative
(dealing with contingent matter). We must touch, upon the excellence or
best condition of both of them (I). There are three principal functions
of the soul--Sensation, Reason, and Appetite or Desire. Now, Sensation
(which beasts have as well as men) is not a principle of moral action.
The Reason regards truth and falsehood only; it does not move to
action, it is not an end in itself. Appetite or Desire, which aims at
an end, introduces us to moral action. Truth and Falsehood, as regards
Reason, correspond to Good and Evil as regards Appetite: Affirmation
and Negation, with the first, are the analogues of Pursuit and
Avoidance, with the second. In purpose, which is the principle of moral
action, there is included deliberation or calculation. Reason and
Appetite are thus combined: Good Purpose comprises both true
affirmation and right pursuit: you may call it either an Intelligent
Appetite, or an Appetitive Intelligence. Such is man, as a principle of
action [hae toiautae archae anthropos].
Science has to do with the necessary and the eternal; it is teachable,
but teachable always from _praecognita_, or principles, obtained by
induction; from which principles, conclusions are demonstrated by
syllogism (III.). Art, or Production, is to be carefully distinguished
from the action or agency that belongs to man as an ethical agent, and
that does not terminate in any separate assignable product. But both
the one and the other deal with contingent matters only. Art deals for
the most part with the same matters as are subject to the intervention
of Fortune or Chance (IV.).
Prudence or Judiciousness [Greek: phronaesis], the quality of [Greek:
ho phronimos], the Practical Reason, comes next. We are told what are
the matters wherewith it is, and wherewith it is not, conversant. It
does not deal with matters wherein there exist art, or with rules of
art. It does not deal with necessary matters, nor with matters not
modifiable by human agency. The prudent or judicious man is one who
(like Pericles) can accurately estimate and foresee matters (apart from
Science and Art) such as are good or evil for himself and other human
beings. On these matters, feelings of pleasure or pain are apt to bias
the mind, by insinuating wrong aims; which they do not do in regard to
the properties of a triangle and other scientific conclusions. To guard
against such bias, the judicious man must be armed with the ethical
excellence described above as Temperance or Moderation. Judiciousness
is not an Art, admitting of better and worse; there are not good
judicious men, and bad judicious men, as there are good and bad
artists. Judiciousness is itself an excellence (_i.e._, the term
connotes excellence)--an excellence of the rational soul, and of that
branch of the rational soul which is calculating, deliberative, not
scientific (V.). Reason or Intellect [Greek: nous] is the faculty for
apprehending the first principles of demonstrative science. It is among
the infallible faculties of the mind, together with Judiciousness,
Science, and Philosophy. Each of these terms connotes truth and
accuracy (VI.). Wisdom in the arts is the privilege of the superlative
artists, such as Phidias in sculpture. But there are some men wise, not
in any special art, but absolutely; and this wisdom [Greek: sophia] is
Philosophy. It embraces both principles of science (which Aristotle
considers to come under the review of the First Philosophy) and
deductions therefrom; it is [Greek: nous] and [Greek: epistaemae] in
one. It is more venerable and dignified than Prudence or Judiciousness;
because its objects, the Kosmos and the celestial bodies, are far more
glorious than man, with whose interests alone Prudence is concerned;
and also because the celestial objects are eternal and unvarying; while
man and his affairs are transitory and ever fluctuating. Hence the
great honour paid to Thales, Anaxagoras, and others, who speculated on
theories thus magnificent and superhuman, though useless in respect to
human good.
We have already said that Prudence or Judiciousness is good counsel on
human interests, with a view to action. But we must also add that it
comprises a knowledge not of universals merely, but also of
particulars; and experienced men, much conversant with particulars, are
often better qualified for action than inexperienced men of science
(VII.). Prudence is the same in its intellectual basis as the political
science or art--yet looked at in a different aspect. Both of them are
practical and consultative, respecting matters of human good and evil;
but prudence, in the stricter sense of the word, concerns more
especially the individual self; still, the welfare of the individual is
perhaps inseparable from household and state concerns. Prudence farther
implies a large experience; whence boys, who can become good
mathematicians, cannot have practical judgment or prudence. In
consultation, we are liable to error both in regard to universals, and
in regard to particulars; it is the business of prudence, as well as of
the political science, to guard against both. That prudence is not
identical with Science, is plain enough; for Science is the
intermediate process between the first principles and the last
conclusions; whereas prudence consists chiefly in seizing these last,
which are the applications of reasoning, and represent the particular
acts to be done. Prudence is the counterpart of Reason [Greek: Nous] or
Intellect, but at the opposite extremity of the mental process. For
Intellect [Greek: Nous] apprehends the extreme Universals,--the first
principles,--themselves not deducible, but from which deduction starts;
while Prudence fastens on the extreme particulars, which are not known
by Science, but by sensible Perception. We mean here by sensible
Perception, not what is peculiar to any of the five senses, but what is
common to them all--whereby we perceive that the triangle before us is
a geometrical ultimatum, and that it is the final subject of
application for all the properties previously demonstrated to belong to
triangles generally. The mind will stop here in the downward march
towards practical application, as it stopped at first principles in the
upward march. Prudence becomes, however, confounded with sensible
perception, when we reach this stage. [The statement here given
involves Aristotle's distinction of the proper and the common
Sensibles; a shadowing out of the muscular element in sensation]
(VIII.).
Good counsel [Greek: euboulia] is distinguished from various other
qualities. It is, in substance, choosing right means to a good end; the
end being determined by the great faculty--Prudence or Judiciousness
(IX.). Sagacity [Greek: synesis] is a just intellectual measure in
regard to the business of life, individual and social; critical ability
in appreciating and interpreting the phenomena of experience. It is
distinguished from Prudence in this respect--that Prudence carries
inferences into Practice (X.). Considerateness [Greek: gnomae] is
another intellectual virtue, with a practical bearing. It is that
virtue whereby we discern the proper occasions for indulgent
construction, softening the rigour of logical consistency. It is the
source of equitable decisions.
The different intellectual excellences just named--Considerateness,
Sagacity, Prudence [Greek: phronaesis], and Intellect [Greek: Nous],
seem all to bear on the same result, and are for the most part
predicable of the same individuals. All of them are concerned with the
ultimate applications of principle to practice, and with the actual
moments for decision and action. Indeed, Intellect [Greek: Nous] deals
with the extremes at both ends of the scale: with the highest and
lowest terms. In theoretical science, it apprehends and sanctions the
major propositions, the first and highest _principia_ of
demonstrations: in practical dealings, it estimates the minor
propositions of the syllogism, the possibilities of the situation, and
the ultimate action required. All these are the _principia_ from whence
arises the determining motive: for the universal is always derived from
particulars; these we must know through sensible perception, which is
in this case the same thing as intellect [Greek: Nous]. Intellect is in
fact both the beginning and the end: it cognizes both the first grounds
of demonstration and the last applications of the results of
demonstration. A man cannot acquire science by nature, or without
teaching: but he may acquire Intellect and Sagacity by nature, simply
through, long life and abundant experience. The affirmations and
opinions of old men deserve attention, hardly less than demonstrations:
they have acquired an eye from experience, and can thus see the
practical principles (though they may not be able to lay out their
reasons logically) (XI.).
But an objector may ask--Of what use are Philosophy and Prudence? He
may take such grounds as these. (1) Philosophy has no practical aim at
all; nor does it consider the means of happiness? (2) Prudence, though
bearing on practice, is merely knowledge, and does not ensure right
action. (3) Even granting the knowledge to be of value as direction, it
might be obtained, like medical knowledge, from a professional adviser.
(4) If philosophy is better than prudence, why does prudence control
philosophy? We have to answer these doubts. The first is answered by
asserting the independent value of philosophy and prudence, as
perfections of our nature, and as sources of happiness in themselves.
The second and third doubts are set at rest, by affirming prudence to
have no existence apart from virtue. Without a virtuous aim, there is
no such thing as Prudence: there is nothing but cleverness degenerating
into cunning; while virtue without virtuous prudence is nothing better
than a mere instinct, liable to be misguided in every way (XII.).
There is one more difficulty to be cleared up respecting virtue. All
our dispositions; and therefore all our ethical excellences, come to us
in a certain sense by nature; that is, we have from the moment of birth
a certain aptitude for becoming temperate, courageous, just, &c. But
these natural aptitudes or possessions [Greek: physikai hexeis] are
something altogether distinct from the ethical excellences proper,
though capable of being matured into them, if intellect and prudence be
superadded. Sokrates was mistaken in resolving all the virtues into
prudence; but he was right in saying that none of them can exist
without prudence. The virtues ought to be defined as, not merely
ethical dispositions _according_ to right reason, but ethical
dispositions _along with_ right reason or prudence (_i.e._, prudence is
an ever present co-efficient). It is thus abundantly evident that none
but a prudent man can be good, and none but a good man can be prudent.
The virtues are separable from each other, so far as the natural
aptitudes are concerned: a man may have greater facility for acquiring
one than another. But so far as regards the finished acquirements of
excellence, in virtue of which a man is called _good_--no such
separation is possible. All of them alike need the companionship of
Prudence (XIII.).
Book Seventh has, two Parts. Part first discusses the grades of moral
strength and moral weakness. Part second is a short dissertation on
Pleasure, superseded by the superior handling of the subject in the
Tenth Book.
With reference to moral power, in self-restraint, six grades are
specified. (1) God-like virtue, or reason impelling as well as
directing. (2) The highest human virtue, expressed by Temperance
[Greek: sophrosynae]--appetite and passion perfectly harmonized with
reason. (3) Continence [Greek: egkrateia] or the mastery of reason,
after a struggle. (4) Incontinence, the mastery of appetite or passion,
but not without a struggle. (5) Vice, reason perverted so as to
harmonize entirely with appetite or passion. (6) Bestiality, naked
appetite or passion, without reason. Certain prevalent opinions are
enumerated, which are to form the subject of the discussions
following--(1) Continence and endurance are morally good. (2) The
Continent man sticks to his opinion. (3) The Incontinent err knowingly.
(4) Temperance and Continence are the same. (5) Wise and clever men may
be Incontinent. (6) Incontinence applies to other things than Pleasure,
as anger, honour, and gain (I.).
The third point (the Incontinent sin knowingly) is first mooted.
Sokrates held the contrary; he made vice and ignorance convertible.
Others think that the knowledge possessed by the incontinent is mere
opinion, or a vague and weak conviction. It is objected to No. 4, that
continence implies evil desires to be controlled; while temperance
means the character fully harmonized. As to No. 2, Continence must
often be bad, if it consists in sticking to an opinion (II.).
The third point, the only question of real interest or difficulty, is
resumed at greater length. The distinction between _knowledge_ and
_opinion_ (the higher and the lower kinds of knowledge) does not settle
the question, for opinion may be as _strong_ as knowledge. The real
point is, what is meant by _having knowledge_? A man's knowledge may be
in abeyance, as it is when he is asleep or intoxicated. Thus, we may
have in the mind two knowledges (like two separate syllogisms), one
leading to continence, the other to incontinence; the first is not
drawn out, like the syllogism wanting a minor; hence it may be said to
be not present to the mind; so that, in a certain sense, Sokrates was
right in denying that actual and present knowledge could be overborne.
Vice is a form of oblivion (III.).
The next question is, what is the object-matter of incontinence;
whether there is any man incontinent simply and absolutely (without any
specification of wherein), or whether all incontinent men are so in
regard to this or that particular matter? (No. 6). The answer is, that
it applies directly to the bodily appetites and pleasures, which are
necessary up to a certain point (the sphere of Temperance), and then he
that commits unreasonable excess above this point is called Incontinent
simply. But if he commits excess in regard to pleasures, which, though
not necessary, are natural and, up to a certain point, reasonable--such
as victory, wealth, honour--we designate him as incontinent, yet with a
specification of the particular matter (IV.).
The modes of Bestiality, as cannibalism and unnatural passion, are
ascribed to morbid depravity of nature or of habits, analogous to
disease or madness (V.).
Incontinence in anger is not so bad as Incontinence in lust, because
anger (1) has more semblance of reason, (2) is more a matter of
constitution, (3) has less of deliberate purpose--while lust is crafty,
(4) arises under pain; and not from wantonness (VI.).
Persons below the average in resisting _pleasures_ are incontinent;
those below the average in resisting _pains_ are soft or effeminate.
The mass of men incline to both weaknesses. He that deliberately
pursues excessive pleasures, or other pleasures in an excessive way, is
said to be abandoned. The intemperate are worse than the incontinent.
Sport, in its excess, is effeminacy, as being relaxation from toil.
There are two kinds of incontinence: the one proceeding from
precipitancy, where a man acts without deliberating at all; the other
from feebleness,--where he deliberates, but where the result of
deliberation is too weak to countervail his appetite (VII.).
Intemperance or profligacy is more vicious, and less curable than
Incontinence. The profligate man is one who has in him no principle
(archae) of good or of right reason, and who does wrong without
afterwards repenting of it; the incontinent man has the good principle
in him, but it is overcome when he does wrong, and he afterwards
repents (VIII.). Here, again, Aristotle denies that sticking to one's
opinions is, _per se_, continence. The opinion may be wrong; in that
case, if a man sticks to it, prompted by mere self-assertion and love
of victory, it is a species of incontinence. One of the virtues of the
continent man is to be open to persuasion, and to desert one's
resolutions for a noble end (IX.). Incontinence is like sleep or
drunkenness as opposed to wakeful knowledge. The incontinent man is
like a state having good laws, but not acting on them. The incontinence
of passion is more curable than that of weakness; what proceeds from
habit more than what is natural (X.).
The Eighth and Ninth Books contain the treatise on Friendship.
The subject deserves a place in an Ethical treatise, because of its
connexion with virtue and with happiness. Several questions have been
debated concerning Friendship,--Is it based on likeness or unlikeness?
Can bad men be friends? Is there but one species of Friendship, or more
than one? (I.) Some progress towards a solution of these questions may
be made by considering what are the objects of liking; these are the
good, the pleasant, the useful. By the good is not meant the absolute
good of Plato, but the apparent good. Inanimate things must be
excluded, as wanting reciprocation (II.). The varieties of friendship
follow these three modes of the likeable. The friendships for the
useful and the pleasant, are not disinterested, but self-seeking; they
are therefore accidental and transitory; they do not involve intimate
and frequent association. Friendship for the good, and between the
virtuous, is alone perfect; it is formed slowly, and has the requisites
of permanence. It occurs rarely (III.). As regards the useful and the
pleasant, the bad may be friends. It may happen that two persons are
mutually pleasant to each other, as lover and beloved; while this
lasts, there is friendship. It is only as respects the good, that there
exists a permanent liking for the person. Such friendship is of an
absolute nature; the others are accidental (IV.). Friendship is in full
exercise only during actual intercourse; it may exist potentially at a
distance; but in long absence, there is danger of its being dissolved.
Friendship is a settled state or habit, while fondness is a mere
passion, which does not imply our wishing to do good to the object of
it, as friendship does (V.). The perfect kind of friendship, from its
intensity, cannot be exercised towards more than a small number. In
regard to the useful and the pleasant, on the other hand, there may be
friendship with many; as the friendship towards tradesmen and between
the young. The happy desire pleasant friends. Men in power have two
classes of friends; one for the useful, the other for the pleasant.
Both qualities are found in the good man; but he will not be the friend
of a superior, unless he be surpassed (by that superior) in virtue
also. In all the kinds of friendship now specified there is equality
(VI.). There are friendships where one party is superior, as father and
son, older and younger, husband and wife, governor and governed. In
such cases there should be a proportionably greater love on the part of
the inferior. When the love on each side is proportioned to the merit
of the party beloved, then we have a certain species of equality, which
is an ingredient in friendship. But equality in matters of friendship,
is not quite the same as equality in matters of justice. In matters of
justice, equality proportioned to merit stands first--equality between
man and man (no account being taken of comparative merit) stands only
second. In friendship, the case is the reverse; the perfection of
friendship is equal love between the friends towards each other; to
have greater love on one side, by reason of and proportioned to
superior merit, is friendship only of the second grade. This will be
evident if we reflect that extreme inequality renders friendship
impossible--as between private men and kings or gods. Hence the friend
can scarcely wish for his friend the maximum of good, to become a god;
such extreme elevation would terminate the friendship. Nor will he wish
his friend to possess all the good; for every one wishes most for good
to self (VII.). The essence of friendship is to love rather than to be
loved, as seen in mothers; but the generality of persons desire rather
to be loved, which is akin to being honoured (although honour is partly
sought as a sign of future favours). By means of love, as already said,
unequal friendships may be equalized. Friendship with the good, is
based on equality and similarity, neither party ever desiring base
services. Friendships for the useful are based on the contrariety of
fulness and defect, as poor and rich, ignorant and knowing (VIII.).
Friendship is an incident of political society; men associating
together for common ends, become friends. Political justice becomes
more binding when men are related by friendship. The state itself is a
community for the sake of advantage; the expedient to all is the just.
In the large society of the state, there are many inferior societies
for business, and for pleasure: friendship starts up in all (IX.).
There are three forms of Civil Government, with a characteristic
declension or perversion of each:--Monarchy passing into Despotism;
Aristocracy into Oligarchy; Timocracy (based on wealth) into Democracy;
parent and child typifies the first; husband and wife the second;
brothers the third (X.). The monarchial or paternal type has
superiority on one side, and demands honour as well as love on the
other. In aristocracy, the relation is one of merit, and the greater
love is given to the better. In timocracy, and among brothers, there is
equality; and hence the most frequent friendships. There is no
friendship towards a slave, as a slave, for, as such he is a mere
animate tool (XL.). In the relations of the family, friendship varies
with the different situations. Parents love their children as a part of
themselves, and from the first; children grow to love their parents.
Brothers are affected by their community of origin, as well as by
common education and habits of intimacy. Husband and wife come together
by a natural bond, and as mutual helps; their friendship contains the
useful and the pleasant, and, with virtue, the good. Their offspring
strengthens the bond (XII.). The friendships that give rise to
complaints are confined to the Useful. Such friendships involve a legal
element of strict and measured reciprocity [mere trade], and a moral or
unwritten understanding, which is properly friendship. Each party is
apt to give less and expect more than he gets; and the rule must be for
each to reciprocate liberally and fully, in such manner and kind as
they are able (XIII.). In unequal friendships, between a superior and
inferior, the inferior has the greater share of material assistance,
the superior should receive the greater honour (XIV.).
Book Ninth proceeds without any real break. It may not be always easy
to fix the return to be made for services received. Protagoras, the
sophist, left it to his pupils to settle the amount of fee that he
should receive. When there is no agreement, we must render what is in
our power, for example, to the gods and to our parents (I.). Cases may
arise of conflicting obligation; as, shall we prefer a friend to a
deserving man? shall a person robbed reciprocate to robbers? and
others. [We have here the germs of Casuistry.] (II.) As to the
termination of Friendship; in the case of the useful and the pleasant,
the connexion ceases with the motives. In the case of the good, it may
happen that one party counterfeits the good, but is really acting the
useful or the pleasant; or one party may turn out wicked, and the only
question is, how far hopes of his improvement shall be entertained.
Again, one may continue the same, while the other makes large advances
in mental training; how far shall present disparity operate against old
associations? (III.). There is a sort of illustrative parallelism
between the feelings and acts of friendship, and the feelings and acts
of self-love, or of a good man to himself. The virtuous man wishes what
is good for himself, especially for his highest part--the intellect or
thinking part; he desires to pass his life in the company of his own
thoughts; he sympathizes with his own sorrows. On the other hand, the
bad choose the pleasant, although it be hurtful; they fly from
themselves; their own thoughts are unpleasant companions; they are full
of repentance (IV.). Good-will is different from friendship; it is a
sudden impulse of feeling towards some distinguished or likeable
quality, as in an antagonist. It has not the test of longing in
absence. It may be the prelude to friendship (V.). Unanimity, or
agreement of opinion, is a part of friendship. Not as regards mere
speculation, as about the heavenly bodies; but in practical matters,
where interests are at stake, such as the politics of the day. This
unanimity cannot occur in the bad, from their selfish and grasping
disposition (VI.).
The position is next examined--that the love felt by benefactors is
stronger than the love felt by those benefitted. It is not a sufficient
explanation to say, the benefactor is a creditor, who wishes the
prosperity of his debtor. Benefactors are like workmen, who love their
own work, and the exercise of their own powers. They also have the
feeling of nobleness on their side; while the recipient has the less
lovable idea of profit. Finally, activity is more akin to love than
recipiency (VII.). Another question raised for discussion is--'Ought a
man to love himself most, or another?' On the one hand, selfishness is
usually condemned as the feature of bad men; on the other hand, the
feelings towards self are made the standard of the feelings towards
friends. The solution is given thus. There is a lower self (predominant
with most men) that gratifies the appetites, seeking wealth, power, &c.
With the select few, there is a higher self that seeks the honourable,
the noble, intellectual excellence, at any cost of pleasure, wealth,
honour, &c. These noble-minded men procure for themselves the greater
good by sacrificing the less: and their self-sacrifice is thus a mode
of self. It is the duty of the good man to love himself: for his noble
life is profitable, both to himself, and to others; but the bad man
ought not to love himself. [Self-sacrifice, formerly brought under
Courage, is here depicted from another point of view] (VIII.).
By way of bringing out the advantages of friendship, it is next asked,
Does the happy man need friends? To this, it is answered, (1) That
happiness, being the sum of all human good, must suppose the possession
of the greatest of external goods, which is friendship. (2) The happy
man will require friends as recipients, of his overflow of kindness.
(3) He cannot be expected either to be solitary, or to live with
strangers. (4) The highest play of existence is to see the acts of
another in harmony with self. (5) Sympathy supports and prolongs the
glow of one's own emotions. (6) A friend confirms us in the practice of
virtue. (7) The sense of existence in ourselves is enlarged by the
consciousness of another's existence (IX.). The number of friends is
again considered, and the same barriers stated--the impossibility of
sharing among many the highest kind of affection, or of keeping up
close and harmonious intimacy. The most renowned friendships are
between pairs (X.). As to whether friends are most needed in adversity
or in prosperity--in the one, friendship is more necessary, in the
other more glorious (XI.). The essential support and manifestation of
friendship is Intercourse. Whatever people's tastes are, they desire
the society of others in exercising them (XII.).
Book Tenth discusses Pleasure, and lays down as the highest and perfect
pleasure, the exercise of the Intellect in Philosophy.
Pleasure is deserving of consideration, from its close intimacy with
the constitution of our race; on which account, in our training of
youth, we steer them by pleasure and pain; and it is of the first
importance that they should feel pleasure in what they ought, and
displeasure in what they ought, as the groundwork (or _principium_) of
good ethical dispositions. Such a topic can never be left unnoticed,
especially when we look at the great difference of opinion thereupon.
Some affirm pleasure to be the chief good [Eudoxus]. Others call it
altogether vile and worthless [party of Speusippus]. Of these last,
some perhaps really think so; but the rest are actuated by the
necessity of checking men's too great proneness to it, and disparage it
on that account. This policy Aristotle strongly censures, and contends
for the superior efficacy of truth (I.).
The arguments urged by Eudoxus as proving pleasure to be the chief
good, are, (1) That all beings seek pleasure; (2) and avoid its
opposite, pain; (3) that they seek pleasure as an end-in-itself, and
not as a means to any farther end; (4) that pleasure, added to any
other good, such as justice or temperance, increases the amount of
good; which could not be the case, unless pleasure were itself good.
Yet this last argument (Aristotle urges) proves pleasure to be _a_
good, but not to be _the_ Good; indeed, Plato urged the same argument,
to show that pleasure could _not_ be The Good: since The Good (the
Chief Good) must be something that does not admit of being enhanced or
made more good. The objection of Speusippus,--that irrational creatures
are not to be admitted as witnesses,--Aristotle disallows, seeing that
rational and irrational agree on the point; and the thing that seems to
all, must be true. Another objection, That the opposite of pain is not
pleasure, but a neutral state--is set aside as contradicted by the fact
of human desire and aversion, the two opposite states of feeling (II.).
The arguments of the Platonists, to prove that pleasure is not good,
are next examined. (1) Pleasure, they say, is not a quality; but
neither (replies Aristotle) are the exercises or actual manifestations
of virtue or happiness. (2) Pleasure is not definite, but unlimited, or
admitting of degrees, while The Good is a something definite, and does
not admit of degrees. But if these reasoners speak about the pure
pleasures, they might take objection on similar grounds against virtue
and justice also; for these too admit of degrees, and one man is more
virtuous than another. And if they speak of the mixed pleasures
(alloyed with pain), their reasoning will not apply to the unmixed.
Good health is acknowledged to be a good, and to be a definite
something; yet there are nevertheless some men more healthy, some less.
(3) The Good is perfect or complete; but objectors urge that no motion
or generation is complete, and pleasure is in one of these two
categories. This last assertion Aristotle denies. Pleasure is _not_ a
motion; for the attribute of velocity, greater or less, which is
essential to all motion, does not attach to pleasure. A man may be
quick in becoming pleased, or in becoming angry; but in the act of
being pleased or angry, he can neither be quick nor slow. Nor is it
true that pleasure is a generation. In all generation, there is
something assignable out of which generation takes place (not any one
thing out of any other), and into which it reverts by destruction. If
pleasure be a generation, pain must be the destruction of what is
generated; but this is not correct, for pain does not re-establish the
state antecedent to the pleasure. Accordingly, it is not true that
pleasure is a generation. Some talk of pain as a want of something
required by nature, and of pleasure as a filling up of that want. But
these are corporeal, not mental facts, and are applicable only to
eating and drinking; not applicable to many other pleasures, such as
those of sight, hearing, or learning. (4) There are some disgraceful
pleasures. Aristotle replies that these are not absolutely and properly
pleasures, but only to the depraved man; just as things are not yellow,
which appear so to men in a jaundice. Pleasures differ from each other
in species: there are good pleasures, _i.e._, those arising from good
sources; and bad pleasures, _i.e._, from bad sources. The pleasure _per
se_ is always desirable; but not when it comes from objectionable acts.
The pleasures of each man will vary according to his character; none
but a musical man can enjoy the pleasures of music. No one would
consent to remain a child for life, even though he were to have his
fill of childish pleasure.
Aristotle sums up the result thus. Pleasure is not The Good. Not every
mode of pleasure is to be chosen. Some pleasures, distinguished from
the rest specifically or according to their sources, are to be chosen
_per se_ (III.).
He then attempts to define pleasure. It is something perfect and
complete in itself, at each successive moment of time; hence it is not
motion, which is at every moment incomplete. Pleasure is like the act
of vision, or a point, or a monad, always complete in itself. It
accompanies every variety of sensible perception, intelligence, and
theorizing contemplation. In each of these faculties, the act is more
perfect, according as the subjective element is most perfect, and the
object most grand and dignified. When the act is most perfect, the
pleasure accompanying it is also the most perfect; and this pleasure
puts the finishing consummation to the act. The pleasure is not a
pre-existing acquirement now brought into exercise, but an accessory
end implicated with the act, like the fresh look which belongs to the
organism just matured. It is a sure adjunct, so long as subject and
object are in good condition. But continuity of pleasure, as well as of
the other exercises, is impossible. Life is itself an exercise much
diversified, and each man follows the diversity that is suitable to his
own inclination--music, study, &c. Each has its accessory and
consummating mode of pleasure; and to say that all men desire pleasure,
is the same as saying that all men desire life. It is no real question
to ask--Do we choose life for the sake of pleasure, or pleasure for the
sake of life? The truth is, that the two are implicated and inseparable
(IV.).
As our acts or exercises differ from each other specifically, so also
the pleasures that are accessory to them differ specifically. Exercises
intellectual differ from exercises perceptive, and under each head
there are varieties differing from each other. The pleasures accessory
and consummating to each, are diversified accordingly. Each pleasure
contributes to invigorate and intensify the particular exercise that it
is attached to; the geometer who studies his science with pleasure
becomes more acute and successful in prosecuting it. On the other hand,
the pleasures attached to one exercise impede the mind in regard to
other exercises; thus men fond of the flute cannot listen to a speaker
with attention, if any one is playing the flute near them. What we
delight in doing, we are more likely to do well; what we feel pain in
doing, we are not likely to do well. And thus each variety of exercise
is alike impeded by the pains attached to itself, and by the pleasures
attached to other varieties.
Among these exercises or acts, some are morally good, others morally
bad; the desires of the good are also praise-worthy, the desires of the
bad are blameable; but if so, much more are the pleasures attached to
the good exercises, good pleasures--and the pleasures attached to the
bad exercises, bad pleasures. For the pleasures attached to an exercise
are more intimately identified with that exercise than the desire of it
can be. The pleasure of the exercise, and the exercise itself, are
indeed so closely identified one with the other, that to many they
appear the same. Sight, hearing, and smell, differ in purity from touch
and taste; and the pleasures attached to each differ in like manner.
The pleasures of intellect differ from those of sense, as these two
exercises differ from one another. Every animal has its own peculiar
pleasures, as it has also its own peculiar manifestation and exercises.
Among the human race, the same things give pleasure to one individual
and pain to another. The things that appear sweet to the strong and
healthy man, do not appear sweet to one suffering from fever, or
weakly. Now, amidst this discrepancy, what _appears_ to the virtuous
and intelligent man, really _is_. His pleasures are the true and real
pleasures. Excellence, and the good man _quatenus_ good, are to be
taken as the standard. If what he abhors appears pleasurable to some
persons, we must not be surprised, since there are many depravations of
individuals, in one way or another; but these things are not pleasures
really, they are only pleasures to these depraved mortals (V.).
So far the theory of Pleasure. Aristotle now goes back to his starting
point--the nature of the Good, and Happiness. He re-states his
positions: That Happiness is an exercise or actuality [Greek:
energeia], and not an acquirement or state (hexis), That it belongs to
such exercises as are worthy of choice for their own sake, and not to
such as are worthy of choice for the sake of something else; That it is
perfect and self-sufficing, seeking nothing beyond itself, and leaving
no wants unsupplied. Hence he had concluded that it consisted in acting
according to virtue; for the honourable and good are chosen for their
own sake. But amusements are also sought for their own sake; Are these
also to be called happiness? No. It is true that they are much pursued
by those whom the vulgar envy--men of wealth and despots--who patronize
and reward the practitioners of amusement. But this proves nothing, for
we cannot adopt the choice of these despots, who have little virtue or
intellect, and have never known the taste of refined and liberal
pleasure. Children and mature men, bad men and virtuous, have each
their different pleasures; the virtuous and intelligent man finds a
life of excellence and the pleasures attached thereunto most worthy of
his choice, and such a man (Aristotle has declared more than once) is
our standard. It would indeed be childish to treat amusements as the
main end of life; they are the relaxation of the virtuous man, who
derives from them fresh vigour for the prosecution of the serious
business of life, which he cannot prosecute continuously. The serious
exercises of life are better than the comic, because they proceed from
the better part of man. The slave may enjoy bodily pleasures to the
full, but a slave is not called happy (VI.).
We have thus shown that Happiness consists in exercise or actual living
according to excellence; naturally, therefore, according to the highest
excellence, or the excellence of the best part of man. This best part
is the Intellect (_Nous_), our most divine and commanding element; in
its exercise, which is theoretical or speculative, having respect to
matters honourable, divine, and most worthy of study. Such
philosophical exercise, besides being the highest function of our
nature, is at the same time more susceptible than any mode of active
effort, of being prosecuted for a long continuance. It affords the
purest and most lasting pleasure; it approaches most nearly to being
self-sufficing, since it postulates little more than the necessaries of
life, and is even independent of society, though better _with_ society.
Perfect happiness would thus be the exercise of the theorizing
intellect, continued through a full period of life. But this is more
than we can expect. Still, we ought to make every effort to live
according to this best element of our nature; for, though small in
bulk, it stands exalted above the rest in power and dignity, and, being
the sovereign element in man, is really The Man himself (VII.).
Next, yet only second, come the other branches of excellence: the
active social life of a good citizen. Exercises according to this
branch of virtue are the natural business of man, for it is bound up
with our whole nature, including body as well as mind, our appetites,
and our passions, whereas the happiness of intellect is separate.
Active social virtue postulates conditions of society and external aids
in considerable measure; but the life of intellect requires only the
minimum of these, and is even impeded by much of them.
That perfect happiness is to be found in the philosophical life only,
will appear farther when we recollect that the gods are blest and happy
in the highest degree, and that this is the only mode of life suitable
to them. With the gods there can be no scope for active social virtues;
for in what way can they be just, courageous, or temperate? Neither
virtuous practice nor constructive art can be predicated of the gods;
what then remains, since we all assume them to live, and therefore to
be in act or exercise of some kind; for no one believes them to live in
a state of sleep, like Endymion. There remains nothing except
philosophical contemplation. This, then, must be the life of the gods,
the most blest of all; and that mode of human life which approaches
nearest to it will be the happiest. No other animal can take part in
this, and therefore none can be happy. In so far as the gods pay
attention to human affairs, they are likely to take pleasure in the
philosopher, who is most allied to themselves. A moderate supply of
good health, food, and social position, must undoubtedly be ensured to
the philosopher; for, without these, human nature will not suffice for
the business of contemplation. But he will demand nothing more than a
moderate supply, and when thus equipped, he will approach nearer to
happiness than any one else. Aristotle declares this confidently,
citing Solon, Anaxagoras, and other sages, as having said much the same
before him (VIII.).
In the concluding chapter, Aristotle gives the transition from Ethics
to Politics. Treatises on virtue may inspire a few liberal minds; but,
for the mass of men, laws, institutions, and education are necessary.
The young ought to be trained, not merely by paternal guidance
directing in the earliest years their love and hatred, but also by a
scheme of public education, prescribed and enforced by authority
throughout the city. Right conduct will thus be rendered easier by
habit; but still, throughout life, the mature citizen must continue
under the discipline of law, which has force adequate to correction,
and, being impersonal, does not excite aversion and hatred. Hence the
need for a system of good public training. Nowhere is this now
established and enforced; hardly anywhere, except in Sparta, is it even
attempted. Amid such public neglect, it becomes the duty of an
individual to contribute what he can to the improvement of those that
he is concerned in, and for that purpose to acquire the capacities
qualifying him for becoming a lawgiver. Private admonition will
compensate to a certain extent for the neglect of public interference,
and in particular cases may be even more discriminating. Bat how are
such capacities to be acquired? Not from the Sophists, whose method is
too empirical; nor from practical politicians, for they seem to have no
power of imparting their skill. Perhaps it would be useful to make a
collection of existing laws and constitutions. Aristotle concludes with
sketching the plan of his own work on Politics.
* * * * *
The Aristotelian doctrines are generally summed up in such points as
these:--The theory of Good; Pleasure; the theory of Virtue; the
doctrine of the Will, distinguishing voluntary from involuntary; Virtue
a Habit; the doctrine of the MEAN; the distinction between the Moral
Virtues and the Intellectual Virtues; Justice, distributive, and
commutative; Friendship; the Contemplative Life.
The following are the indications of his views, according to the six
leading subjects of Ethics.
I. and II.--It is characteristic of Aristotle (as is fully stated in
Appendix B.) to make the judgment of the wisest and most cultivated
minds, the standard of appeal in moral questions. He lays down certain
general principles, such as the doctrine of the Mean, but in the
application of these (which is everything), he trusts to the most
experienced and skilled advisers that the community can furnish.
III.--On the theory of Happiness, or the Summum Bonum, it is needless
to repeat the abstract of the tenth book.
IV.--In laying down the Moral Code, he was encumbered with the too wide
view of Virtue; but made an advance in distinguishing virtue proper
from excellence in general.
V.--He made Society tutelary to the individual in an excessive degree.
He had no clear conception of the province of authority or law; and did
not separate the morality of obligation from the morality of reward and
nobleness.
VI.--His exclusion of Theology from morality was total.
THE STOICS.
The Stoics were one of the four sects of philosophy, recognized and
conspicuous at Athens during the three centuries preceding the
Christian era, and during the century or more following. Among these
four sects, the most marked antithesis of ethical dogma was between the
Stoics and the Epicureans. The Stoical system dates from about 300
B.C.; it was derived from the system of the Cynics.
The founder of the system was ZENO, from Citium in Cyprus (he lived
from 340--260 B.C.), who derived his first impulse from Krates the
Cynic. He opened his school in a building or porch, called the _Stoa
Poecile_ ('Painted Portico') at Athens, whence the origin of the name
of the sect. Zeno had for his disciple CLEANTHES, from Assos in the
Troad (300--220 B.C.), whose _Hymn to Jupiter_ is the only fragment of
any length that has come down to us from the early Stoics, and is a
remarkable production, setting forth the unity of God, his omnipotence,
and his moral government. CHRYSIPPUS, from Soli in Cilicia (290--207
B.C.), followed Cleanthes, and, in his voluminous writings, both
defended and modified the Stoical creed. These three represent the
_first_ period of the system. The _second_ period (200--50 B.C.)
embraces its general promulgation, and its introduction to the Romans.
Chrysippus was succeeded by ZENO of Sidon, and DIOGENES of Babylon;
then followed ANTIPATER, of Tarsus, who taught PANAETIUS of Rhodes (d.
112 B.C.), who, again, taught POSIDONIUS of Apamea, in Syria. (Two
philosophers are mentioned from the native province of St. Paul,
besides Chrysippus--ATHEKODOEUS, from Cana in Cilicia; and ARCHEDEMUS,
from Tarsus, the apostle's birthplace. It is remarked by Sir A. Grant,
that almost all the first Stoics were of Asiatic birth; and the system
itself is undeniably more akin to the oriental mind than to the Greek.)
Posidonius was acquainted with Marius and Pompey, and gave lessons to
Cicero, but the moral treatise of Cicero, _De Officiis_, is derived
from a work of Panaetius. The _third_ period of Stoicism is Roman. In
this period, we have Cato the Younger, who invited to his house the
philosopher Athenodorus; and, under the Empire, the three Stoic
philosophers, whose writings have come down to us--SENECA (6 B.C.-65
A.D.), EPICTETUS (60-140 A.D.), who began life as a slave, and the
Emperor MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS (121-180 A.D.). Stoicism prevailed
widely in the Roman world, although not to the exclusion of Epicurean
views.
The leading Stoical doctrines are given in certain phrases or
expressions, as 'Life according to Nature' (although this phrase
belongs also to the Epicureans), the ideal 'Wise Man,' 'Apathy,' or
equanimity of mind (also an Epicurean ideal), the power of the 'Will,'
the worship of 'Duty,' the constant 'Advance' in virtue, &c. But
perspicuity will be best gained by considering the _Moral_ system under
four heads--the Theology; the Psychology or theory of mind; the theory
of the Good or human happiness; and the scheme of Virtue or Duty.
I.--The THEOLOGICAL doctrines of the Stoics comprehended their system
of the Universe, and of man's position in it. They held that the
Universe is governed by one good and wise God, together with inferior
or subordinate deities. God exercises a moral government; under it the
good are happy, while misfortunes happen to the wicked. According to
Epictetus, God is the father of men; Antoninus exults in the beautiful
arrangement of all things. The earlier Stoics, Zeno and Chrysippus,
entertained high reverence for the divination, prophecy, and omens that
were generally current in the ancient world. They considered that these
were the methods whereby the gods were graciously pleased to make known
beforehand revelations of their foreordained purposes. (Herein lay one
among the marked points of contrast between Stoics and Epicureans.)
They held this foreordination even to the length of fatalism, and made
the same replies, as have been given in modern times, to the difficulty
of reconciling it with the existence of evil, and with the apparent
condition of the better and the worse individuals among mankind. They
offered explanations such as the following: (1) God is the author of
all things except wickedness; (2) the very nature of good supposes its
contrast evil, and the two are inseparable, like light and dark, (which
may be called the argument from Relativity); (3) in the enormous extent
of the Universe, some things must be neglected; (4) when evil happens
to the good, it is not as a punishment, but as connected with a
different dispensation; (5) parts of the world may be presided over by
evil demons; (6) what we call evil may not be evil.
Like most other ancient schools, the Stoics held God to be corporeal
like man:--Body is the only substance; nothing incorporeal could act on
what is corporeal; the First Cause of all, God or Zeus, is the primeval
fire, emanating from which is the soul of man in the form of a warm
ether.
It is for human beings to recognize the Universe as governed by
universal Law, and not only to raise their minds to the comprehension
of it, but to enter into the views of the administering Zeus or Fate,
who must regard all interests equally; we are to be, as it were, in
harmony with him, to merge self in universal Order, to think only of
that and its welfare. As two is greater than one, the interests of the
whole world are infinitely greater than the interests of any single
being, and no one should be satisfied with a regard to anything less
than the whole. By this elevation of view, we are necessarily raised
far above the consideration of the petty events befalling ourselves.
The grand effort of human reason is thus to rise to the abstraction or
totality of entire Nature; 'no ethical subject,' says Chrysippus,
'could be rightly approached except from the pre-consideration of
entire Nature, and the ordering of the whole.'
As to Immortality, the Stoics precluded themselves, by holding the
theory of the _absorption_ of the individual soul at death into the
divine essence; but, on the other hand, their doctrine of advance and
aspiration is what has in all times been the main natural argument for
the immortality of the soul. For the most part, they kept themselves
undecided as to this doctrine, giving it as an alternative, reasoning
as to our conduct on either supposition, and submitting to the pleasure
of God in this as in all other things.
In arguing for the existence of Divine power and government, they
employed what has been called the argument from Design, which is as old
as Sokrates. Man is conscious that he is in himself an intellectual or
spiritual power, from which, by analogy, he is led to believe that a
greater power pervades the universe, as intellect pervades the human
system.
II.--In the PSYCHOLOGY of the Stoics, two questions, are of interest,
their theory of Pleasure and Pain, and their views upon the Freedom of
the Will.
1. _The theory of Pleasure and Pain_. The Stoics agreed with the
Peripatetics (anterior to Epicurus, not specially against _him_) that
the first principle of nature is (not pleasure or relief from pain,
but) _self-preservation_ or _self-love_; in other words, the natural
appetite or tendency of all creatures is, to preserve their existing
condition with its inherent capacities, and to keep clear of
destruction or disablement. This appetite (they said) manifests itself
in little children before any pleasure or pain is felt, and is moreover
a fundamental postulate, pre-supposed in all desires of particular
pleasures, as well as in all aversions to particular pains. We begin by
loving our own vitality; and we come, by association, to love what
promotes or strengthens our vitality; we hate destruction or
disablement, and come (by secondary association) to hate whatever
produces that effect.[8] The doctrine here laid down associated, and
brought under one view, what was common to man, not merely with the
animal, but also with the vegetable world; a plant was declared to have
an impulse or tendency to maintain itself, even without feeling pain or
pleasure. Aristotle (in the tenth Book of the Ethics) says, that he
will not determine whether we love life for the sake of pleasure, or
pleasure for the sake of life; for he affirms the two to be essentially
yoked together and inseparable; pleasure is the consummation of our
vital manifestations. The Peripatetics, after him, put pleasure down to
a lower level, as derivative and accidental; the Stoics went farther in
the same direction--possibly from antithesis against the growing school
of Epicurus.
The primary _officium_ (in a larger sense than our word Duty) of man is
(they said) to keep himself in the state of nature; the second or
derivative _officium_ is to keep to such things as are _according to
nature_, and to avert those that are _contrary to nature_; our
gradually increasing experience enabled us to discriminate the two. The
youth learns, as he grows up, to value bodily accomplishments, mental
cognitions and judgments, good conduct towards those around him,--as
powerful aids towards keeping up the state of nature. When his
experience is so far enlarged as to make him aware of the order and
harmony of nature and human society, and to impress upon him the
comprehension of this great _ideal_, his emotions as well as his reason
become absorbed by it. He recognizes this as the only true Bonum or
Honestum, to which all other desirable things are referable,--as the
only thing desirable for itself and in its own nature. He drops or
dismisses all those _prima naturae_ that he had begun by desiring. He
no longer considers any of them as worthy of being desired in itself,
or for its own sake.
While therefore (according to Peripatetics as well as Stoics) the love
of self and of preserving one's own vitality and activity, is the
primary element, intuitive and connate, to which all rational
preference (_officium_) was at first referred,--they thought it not the
less true, that in process of time, by experience, association, and
reflection, there grows up in the mind a grand acquired sentiment or
notion, a new and later light, which extinguishes and puts out of sight
the early beginning. It was important to distinguish the feeble and
obscure elements from the powerful and brilliant aftergrowth; which
indeed was fully realized only in chosen minds, and in them, hardly
before old age. This idea, when once formed in the mind, was _The
Good_--the only thing worthy of desire for its own sake. The Stoics
called it the only Good, being sufficient in itself for happiness;
other things being not good, nor necessary to happiness, but simply
preferable or advantageous when they could be had: the Peripatetics
recognized it as the first and greatest good, but said also that it was
not sufficient in itself; there were two other inferior varieties of
good, of which something must be had as complementary (what the Stoics
called _praeposita_ or _sumenda_). Thus the Stoics said, about the
origin of the Idea of Bonum or Honestum, much the same as what
Aristotle says about ethical virtue. It is not implanted in us by
nature; but we have at birth certain initial tendencies and capacities,
which, if aided by association and training, enable us (and that not in
all cases) to acquire it.
2. _The Freedom of the Will_. A distinction was taken by Epictetus and
other Stoics between things in our power and things not in our power.
The things in our power are our opinions and notions about objects, and
all our affections, desires, and aversions; the things not in our power
are our bodies, wealth, honour, rank, authority, &c., and their
opposites. The practical application is this: wealth and high rank may
not be in our power, but we have the power to form an _idea_ of
these--namely, that they are unimportant, whence the want of them will
not grieve us. A still more pointed application is to death, whose
force is entirely in the idea.
With this distinction between things in our power and things not in our
power, we may connect the arguments between the Stoics and their
opponents as to what is now called the Freedom of the Will. But we must
first begin by distinguishing the two questions. By things _in our
power_, the Stoics meant, things that we could do or acquire, _if we
willed_: by things _not in_ our power, they meant, things that we could
not do or acquire if we willed. In both cases, the volition was assumed
as a fact: the question, what determined it--or whether it was
non-determined, _i.e._ self-determining--was not raised in the
abovementioned antithesis. But it was raised in other discussions
between the Stoic theorist Chrysippus, and various opponents. These
opponents denied that volition was determined by motives, and cited the
cases of equal conflicting motives (what is known as the ass of
Buridan) as proving that the soul includes in itself, and exerts, a
special supervenient power of deciding action in one way or the other:
a power not determined by any causal antecedent, but self-originating,
and belonging to the class of agency that Aristotle recognizes under
the denomination of automatic, spontaneous (or essentially irregular
and unpredictable). Chrysippus replied by denying not only the reality
of this supervenient force said to be inherent in the soul, but also
the reality of all that Aristotle called automatic or spontaneous
agency generally. Chrysippus said that every movement was determined by
antecedent motives; that, in cases of equal conflict, the exact
equality did not long continue, because some new but slight motive
slipped in unperceived and turned the scale on one side or the other.
(See Plutarch De Stoicorum Repugnantiis, c. 23, p. 1045.) Here, we see,
the question now known as the Freedom of the Will is discussed: and
Chrysippus declares against it, affirming that volition is always
determined by motives.
But we also see that, while declaring this opinion, Chrysippus does not
employ the terms Necessity or Freedom of the Will: neither did his
opponents, so far as we can see: they had a different and less
misleading phrase. By Freedom, Chrysippus and the Stoics meant the
freedom of doing what a man willed, if he willed it. A man is free, as
to the thing that is in his power, when he wills it: he is not free, as
to what is not in his power, under the same supposition. The Stoics
laid great stress on this distinction. They pointed out how much it is
really in a man's power to transform or discipline his own mind: in the
way of controlling or suppressing some emotions, generating or
encouraging others, forming new intellectual associations, &c., how
much a man could do in these ways, _if he willed it_, and if he went
through the lessons, habits of conduct, meditations, suitable to
produce such an effect. The Stoics strove to create in a man's mind the
volitions appropriate for such mental discipline, by depicting the
beneficial consequences resulting from it, and the misfortune and shame
inevitable, if the mind were not so disciplined. Their purpose was to
strengthen the governing reason of his mind, and to enthrone it as a
fixed habit and character, which would control by counter suggestions
the impulse arising at each special moment--particularly all disturbing
terrors or allurements. This, in their view, is a _free mind_; not one
wherein volition is independent of all motive, but one wherein the
susceptibility to different motives is tempered by an ascendant reason,
so as to give predominance to the better motive against the worse. One
of the strongest motives that they endeavoured to enforce, was the
prudence and dignity of bringing our volitions into harmony with the
schemes of Providence: which (they said) were always arranged with a
view to the happiness of the kosmos on the whole. The bad man, whose
volitions conflict with these schemes, is always baulked of his
expectations, and brought at last against his will to see things
carried by an overruling force, with aggravated pain and humiliation to
himself: while the good man, who resigns himself to them from the
first, always escapes with less pain, and often without any at all.
_Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt_.
We have thus seen that in regard to the doctrine called in modern times
the Freedom of the Will (_i.e._, that volitions are self-originating
and unpredictable), the Stoic theorists not only denied it, but framed
all their Ethics upon the assumption of the contrary. This same
assumption of the contrary, indeed, was made also by Sokrates, Plato,
Aristotle, and Epicurus: in short, by all the ethical teachers of
antiquity. All of them believed that volitions depended on causes: that
under the ordinary conditions of men's minds, the causes that volitions
generally depended upon are often misleading and sometimes ruinous: but
that by proper stimulation from without and meditation within, the
rational causes of volition might be made to overrule the impulsive.
Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, not less than the Stoics, wished to create
new fixed habits and a new type of character. They differed, indeed, on
the question what the proper type of character was: but each of them
aimed at the same general end--a new type of character, regulating the
grades of susceptibility to different motives. And the purpose of all
and each of these moralists precludes the theory of free-will--_i.e._,
the theory that our volitions are self-originating and unpredictable.
III.--We must consider next the Stoical theory of Happiness, or rather
of the _Good_, which with them was proclaimed to be the sole,
indispensable, and self-sufficing condition of Happiness. They declared
that Pleasure was no part of Good, and Pain no part of Evil; therefore,
that even relief from pain was not necessary to Good or Happiness.
This, however, if followed out consistently, would dispense with all
morality and all human endeavour. Accordingly, the Stoics were obliged
to let in some pleasures as an object of pursuit, and some pains as an
object of avoidance, though not under the title of Good and Evil, but
with the inferior name of _Sumenda_ and _Rejicienda_.[9] Substantially,
therefore, they held that pains are an evil, but, by a proper
discipline, may be triumphed over. They disallowed the direct and
ostensible pursuit of pleasure as an end (the point of view of
Epicurus), but allured their followers partly by promising them the
victory over pain, and partly by certain enjoyments of an elevated cast
that grew out of their plan of life.
Pain of every kind, whether from the casualties of existence, or from,
the severity of the Stoical virtues, was to be met by a discipline of
endurance, a hardening process, which, if persisted in, would succeed
in reducing the mind to a state of _Apathy_ or indifference. A great
many reflections were suggested in aid of this education. The influence
of exercise and repetition in adapting the system to any new function,
was illustrated by the Olympian combatants, and by the Lacedaemonian
youth, who endured scourging without complaint. Great stress was laid
on the instability of pleasure, and the constant liability to
accidents; whence we should always be anticipating and adapting
ourselves to the worst that could happen, so as never to be in a state
where anything could ruffle the mind. It was pointed out how much might
still be made of the worst circumstances--poverty, banishment, public
odium, sickness, old age--and every consideration was advanced that
could 'arm the obdurate breast with stubborn patience, as with triple
steel.' It has often been remarked that such a discipline of endurance
was peculiarly suited to the unsettled condition of the world at the
time, when any man, in addition to the ordinary evils of life, might in
a moment be sent into exile, or sold into slavery.
Next to the discipline of endurance, we must rank the complacent
sentiment of _Pride_, which the Stoic might justly feel in his conquest
of himself, and in his lofty independence and superiority to the
casualties of life.[10] The pride of the Cynic, the Stoic's
predecessor, was prominent and offensive, showing itself in scurrility
and contempt towards everybody else; the Stoical pride was a refinement
upon this, but was still a grateful sentiment of superiority, which
helped to make up for the surrender of indulgences. It was usual to
bestow the most extravagant laudation on the 'Wise Man,' and every
Stoic could take this home to the extent that he considered himself as
approaching that great ideal.
The last and most elevated form of Stoical happiness was the
satisfaction of contemplating the Universe and God. Epictetus says,
that we can accommodate ourselves cheerfully to the providence that
rules the world, if we possess two things--the power of seeing all that
happens in the proper relation to its own purpose--and a grateful
disposition. The work of Antoninus is full of studies of Nature in the
devout spirit of 'passing from Nature up to Nature's God;' he is never
weary of expressing his thorough contentment with the course of natural
events, and his sense of the beauties and fitness of everything. Old
age has its grace, and death is the becoming termination. This high
strain of exulting contemplation reconciled him to that complete
submission to whatever might befall, which was the essential feature of
the 'Life according to Nature,' as he conceived it.
IV.--The Stoical theory of Virtue is implicated in the ideas of the
Good, now described.
The fountain of all virtue is manifestly the life according to nature;
as being the life of subordination of self to more general
interests--to family, country, mankind, the whole universe. If a man is
prepared to consider himself absolutely nothing in comparison with the
universal interest, and to regard it as the sole end of life, he has
embraced an ideal of virtue of the loftiest order. Accordingly, the
Stoics were the first to preach what is called 'Cosmopolitanism;' for
although, in their reference to the good of the whole, they confounded
together sentient life and inanimate objects--rocks, plants, &c.,
solicitude for which was misspent labour--yet they were thus enabled to
reach the conception of the universal kindship of mankind, and could
not but include in their regards the brute creation. They said: 'There
is no difference between the Greeks and Barbarians; the world is our
city.' Seneca urges kindness to slaves, for 'are they not men like
ourselves, breathing the same air, living and dying like ourselves?'
The Epicureans declined, as much as possible, interference in public
affairs, but the Stoic philosophers urged men to the duties of active
citizenship. Chrysippus even said that the life of philosophical
contemplation (such as Aristotle preferred, and accounted godlike) was
to be placed on the same level with the life of pleasure; though
Plutarch observes that neither Chrysippus nor Zeno ever meddled
personally with any public duty; both of them passed their lives in
lecturing and writing. The truth is that both of them were foreigners
residing at Athens; and at a time when Athens was dependent on foreign
princes. Accordingly, neither Zeno nor Chrysippus had any sphere of
political action open to them; they were, in this respect, like
Epictetus afterwards--but in a position quite different from Seneca,
the preceptor of Nero, who might hope to influence the great imperial
power of Rome, and from Marcus Antoninus, who held that imperial power
in his own hands.
Marcus Antoninus--not only a powerful Emperor, but also the most gentle
and amiable man of his day--talks of active beneficence both as a duty
and a satisfaction. But in the creed of the Stoics generally, active
Beneficence did not occupy a prominent place. They adopted the four
Cardinal Virtues--Wisdom, or the Knowledge of Good and Evil; Justice;
Fortitude; Temperance--as part of their plan of the virtuous life, the
life according to Nature. Justice, as the social virtue, was placed
above all the rest. But the Stoics were not strenuous in requiring more
than Justice, for the benefit of others beside the agent. They even
reckoned compassion for the sufferings of others as a weakness,
analogous to envy for the good fortune of others.
The Stoic recognized the gods (or Universal Nature, equivalent
expressions in his creed) as managing the affairs of the world, with a
view to producing as much happiness as was attainable on the whole.
Towards this end the gods did not want any positive assistance from
him; but it was his duty and his strongest interest, to resign himself
to their plans, and to abstain from all conduct tending to frustrate
them. Such refractory tendencies were perpetually suggested to him by
the unreasonable appetites, emotions, fears, antipathies, &c., of daily
life; all claiming satisfaction at the expense of future mischief to
himself and others. To countervail these misleading forces, by means of
a fixed rational character built up through meditation and
philosophical teaching, was the grand purpose of the Stoic ethical
creed. The emotional or appetitive self was to be starved or curbed,
and retained only as an appendage to the rational self; an idea
proclaimed before in general terms by Plato, but carried out into a
system by the Stoics, and to a great extent even by the Epicureans.
The Stoic was taught to reflect how much that _appears_ to be
desirable, terror-striking, provocative, &c., is not really so, but is
made to appear so by false and curable associations. And while he thus
discouraged those self-regarding emotions that placed him in hostility
with others, he learnt to respect the self of another man as well as
his own. Epictetus advises to deal mildly with a man that hurts us
either by word or deed; and advises it upon the following very
remarkable ground. 'Recollect that in what he says or does, he follows
his own sense of propriety, not yours. He must do what appears to him
right, not what appears to you; if he judges wrongly, it is he that is
hurt, for he is the person deceived. Always repeat to yourself, in such
a case: The man has acted on his own opinion.'
The reason here given by Epictetus is an instance, memorable in ethical
theory, of respect for individual dissenting conviction, even in an
extreme case; and it must be taken in conjunction with his other
doctrine, that damage thus done to us unjustly is really little or no
damage, except so far as we ourselves give pungency to it by our
irrational susceptibilities and associations. We see that the Stoic
submerges, as much as he can, the pre-eminence of his own individual
self, and contemplates himself from the point of view of another, only
as one among many. But he does not erect the happiness of others into a
direct object of his own positive pursuit, beyond the reciprocities of
family, citizenship, and common humanity. The Stoic theorists agreed
with Epicurus in inculcating the reciprocities of justice between all
fellow-citizens; and they even went farther than he did, by extending
the sphere of such duties beyond the limits of city, so as to
comprehend all mankind. But as to the reciprocities of individual
friendship, Epicurus went beyond the Stoics, by the amount of
self-sacrifice and devotion that he enjoined for the benefit of a
friend.
There is also in the Stoical system a recognition of duties to God, and
of morality as based on piety. Not only are we all brethren, but also
the 'children of one Father.'
The extraordinary strain put upon human nature by the full Stoic
_ideal_ of submerging self in the larger interests of being, led to
various compromises. The rigid following out of the ideal issued in one
of the _paradoxes_, namely.--That all the actions of the wise man are
equally perfect, and that, short of the standard of perfection, all
faults and vices are equal; that, for example, the man that killed a
cock, without good reason, was as guilty as he that killed his father.
This has a meaning only when we draw a line between spirituality and
morality, and treat the last as worthless in comparison of the first.
The later Stoics, however, in their exhortations to special branches of
duty, gave a positive value to practical virtue, irrespective of the
_ideal_.
The idea of Duty was of Stoical origin, fostered and developed by the
Roman spirit and legislation. The early Stoics had two different
words,--one for the 'suitable' [Greek: kathaekon], or incomplete
propriety, admitting of degrees, and below the point of rectitude, and
another for the 'right' [Greek: katorthoma], or complete rectitude of
action, which none could achieve except the wise man. It is a
significant circumstance that the 'suitable' is the lineal ancestor of
our word 'duty' (through the Latin _officium_).
It was a great point with the Stoic to be conscious of 'advance' or
improvement.[11] By self-examination, he kept himself constantly
acquainted with his moral state, and it was both his duty and his
satisfaction to be approaching to the ideal of the perfect man.
It is very illustrative of the unguarded points and contradictions of
Stoicism, that contentment and apathy were not to permit grief even for
the loss of friends. Seneca, on one occasion, admits that he was
betrayed by human weakness on this point. On strict Stoical principles,
we ought to treat the afflictions and the death of others with the same
frigid indifference as our own; for why should a man feel for a second
person _more_ than he ought to feel for himself, as a mere unit in the
infinitude of the Universe? This is the contradiction inseparable from
any system that begins by abjuring pleasure, and relief or protection
from pain, as the ends of life. Even granting that we regard pleasure
and relief from pain as of no importance in our own case, yet if we
apply the same measure to others we are bereft of all motives to
benevolence; and virtue, instead of being set on a loftier pinnacle, is
left without any foundation.
EPICURUS. [311--270 B.C.]
Epicurus was born 341 B.C. in the island of Samos. At the age of
eighteen, he repaired to Athens, where he is supposed to have enjoyed
the teaching of Xenocrates or Theophrastus. In 306 B.C., he opened a
school in a garden in Athens, whence his followers have sometimes been
called the 'philosophers of the garden.' His life was simple, chaste,
and temperate. Of the 300 works he is said to have written, nothing has
come down to us except three letters, giving a summary of his views for
the use of his friends, and a number of detached sayings, preserved by
Diogenes Laertius and others. Moreover, some fragments of his work on
Nature have been found at Herculaneum. The additional sources of our
knowledge of Epicurus are the works of his opponents, Cicero, Seneca,
Plutarch, and of his follower Lucretius. Our information from Epicurean
writers respecting the doctrines of their sect is much less copious
than what we possess from Stoic writers in regard to Stoic opinions. We
have no Epicurean writer on Philosophy except Inicretius; whereas
respecting the Stoical creed under the Roman Empire, the important
writings of Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Antoninus, afford most
valuable evidence.
To Epicurus succeeded, in the leadership of his school, Hermachus,
Polystratus, Dionysius, Basilides, and others, ten in number, down to
the age of Augustus. Among Roman Epicureans, Lucretius (95--51 B.C.) is
the most important, his poem (De Rerum Natura), being the completest
account of the system that exists. Other distinguished followers were
Horace, Atticus, and Lacian. In modern times, Pierre Gassendi
(1592--1655) revived the doctrines of Epicurus, and in 1647 published
his 'Syntagma Philosophiae Epicuri,' and a Life of Epicurus. The
reputation of Gassendi, in his life time, rested chiefly upon his
physical theories; but his influence was much felt as a Christian
upholder of Epicureanism. Gassendi was at one time in orders as a Roman
Catholic, and professor of theology and philosophy. He established an
Epicurean school in France, among the disciples of which were, Moliere,
Saint Evremond, Count de Grammont, the Duke of Rochefoncalt,
Fontenelle, and Voltaire.
The standard of Virtue and Vice is referred by Epicurus to pleasure and
pain. Pain is the only evil, Pleasure is the only good. Virtue is no
end in itself, to be sought: Vice is no end in itself, to be avoided.
The motive for cultivating Virtue and banishing Vice arises from the
consequences of each, as the means of multiplying pleasures and
averting or lessening pains. But to the attainment of this purpose, the
complete supremacy of Reason is indispensable; in order that we may
take a right comparative measure of the varieties of pleasure and pain,
and pursue the course that promises the least amount of suffering.[12]
In all ethical theories that make happiness the supreme object of
pursuit, the position of virtue depends entirely upon the theory of
what constitutes happiness. Now, Epicurus (herein differing from the
Stoics, as well as Aristotle), did not recognize Happiness as anything
but freedom from pain and enjoyment of pleasure. It is essential,
however, to understand, how Epicurus conceived pleasure and pain, and
what is the Epicurean scale of pleasures and pains, graduated as
objects of reasonable desire or aversion? It is a great error to
suppose that, in making pleasure the standard of virtue, Epicurus had
in view that elaborate and studied gratification of the sensual
appetites that we associate with the word _Epicurean_. Epicurus
declares--'When we say that pleasure is the end of life, we do not mean
the pleasures of the debauchee or the sensualist, as some from
ignorance or from malignity represent, but freedom of the body from
pain, and of the soul from anxiety. For it is not continuous drinkings
and revellings, nor the society of women, nor rare viands, and other
luxuries of the table, that constitute a pleasant life, but sober
contemplation, such as searches out the grounds of choice and
avoidance, and banishes those chimeras that harass the mind.
Freedom from pain is thus made the primary element of happiness; a
one-sided view, respected in the doctrine of Locke, that it is not the
idea of future good, but the present greatest uneasiness that most
strongly affects the will. A neutral state of feeling is necessarily
imperilled by a greedy pursuit of pleasures; hence the _dictum_, to be
content with little is a great good; because little is most easily
obtained. The regulation of the desires is therefore of high moment.
According to Epicurus, desires fall into three grades. Some are
_natural_ and _necessary_, such as desire of drink, food, or life, and
are easily gratified. But when the uneasiness of a want is removed, the
bodily pleasures admit of no farther increase; anything additional only
_varies_ the pleasure. Hence the luxuries which go beyond the relief of
our wants are thoroughly superfluous; and the desires arising from them
(forming the _second_ grade) though _natural, are not necessary_. A
_third_ class of desires is neither natural nor necessary, but begotten
of vain opinion; such as the thirst for civic honours, or for power
over others; those desires are the most difficult to gratify, and even
if gratified, entail upon us trouble, anxiety, and peril. [This account
of the desires, following up the advice--If you wish to be rich, study
not to increase your goods, but to diminish your desires--is to a
certain extent wise and even indispensable; yet not adapted to all
temperaments. To those that enjoy pleasure very highly, and are not
sensitive in an equal degree to pain, such a negative conception of
happiness would be imperfect.] Epicurus did not, however, deprecate
positive pleasure. If it could be reached without pain, and did not
result in pain, it was a pure good; and, even if it could not be had
without pain, the question was still open, whether it might not be well
worth the price. But in estimating the worth of pleasure, the absence
of any accompanying pain should weigh heavily in the balance. At this
point, the Epicurean theory connects itself most intimately with the
conditions of virtue; for virtue is more concerned with averting
mischief and suffering, than with multiplying positive enjoyments.
Bodily feeling, in the Epicurean psychology, is prior in order of time
to the mental element; the former was primordial, while the latter was
derivative from it by repeated processes of memory and association. But
though such was the order of sequence and generation, yet when we
compare the two as constituents of happiness to the formed man, the
mental element much outweighed the bodily, both as pain and as
pleasure. Bodily pain or pleasure exists only in the present; when not
felt, it is nothing. But mental feelings involve memory and
hope--embrace the past as well as the future--endure for a long time,
and may be recalled or put out of sight, to a great degree, at our
discretion.
This last point is one of the most remarkable features of the Epicurean
mental discipline. Epicurus deprecated the general habit of mankind in
always hankering after some new satisfaction to come; always
discontented with the present, and oblivious of past comforts as if
they had never been. These past comforts ought to be treasured up by
memory and reflection, so that they might become as it were matter for
rumination, and might serve, in trying moments, even to counterbalance
extreme physical suffering. The health of Epicurus himself was very bad
during the closing years of his life. There remains a fragment of his
last letter, to an intimate friend and companion, Idomeneus--'I write
this to you on the last day of my life, which, in spite of the severest
internal bodily pains, is still a happy day, because I set against them
in the balance all the mental pleasure felt in the recollection of my
past conversations with you. Take care of the children left by
Metrodorus, in a manner worthy of your demeanour from boyhood towards
me and towards philosophy.' Bodily pain might thus be alleviated, when
it occurred; it might be greatly lessened in occurrence, by prudent and
moderate habits; lastly, even at the worst, if violent, it never lasted
long; if not violent, it might be patiently borne, and was at any rate
terminated, or terminable at pleasure, by death.
In the view of Epicurus, the chief miseries of life arose, not from
bodily pains, but partly from delusions of hope, and exaggerated
aspirations for wealth, honours, power, &c., in all which the objects
appeared most seductive from a distance, inciting man to lawless
violence and treachery, while in the reality they were always
disappointments, and generally something worse; partly, and still more,
from the delusions of fear. Of this last sort, were the two greatest
torments of human existence--fear of Death, and of eternal suffering
after death, as announced by prophets and poets, and Fear of the Gods.
Epicurus, who did not believe in the continued existence of the soul
separate from the body, declared that there could never be any rational
ground for fearing death, since it was simply a permanent extinction of
consciousness.[13] Death was nothing to us (he said); when death comes,
we are no more, either to suffer or to enjoy. Yet it was the groundless
fear of this nothing that poisoned all the tranquillity of life, and
held men imprisoned even when existence was a torment. Whoever had
surmounted that fear was armed at once against cruel tyranny and
against all the gravest misfortunes. Next, the fear of the gods was not
less delusive, and hardly less tormenting, than the fear of death. It
was a capital error (Epicurus declared) to suppose that the gods
employed themselves as agents in working or superintending the march of
the Cosmos; or in conferring favour on some men, and administering
chastisement to others. The vulgar religious tales, which represented
them in this character, were untrue and insulting as regards the gods
themselves, and pregnant with perversion and misery as regards the
hopes and fears of mankind. Epicurus believed sincerely in the gods;
reverenced them as beings at once perfectly happy, immortal, and
unchangeable; and took delight in the public religious festivals and
ceremonies. But it was inconsistent with these attributes, and
repulsive to his feelings of reverence, to conceive them as agents. The
idea of agency is derived from human experience; we, as agents, act
with a view to supply some want, to fulfil some obligation, to acquire
some pleasure, to accomplish some object desired but not yet
attained--in short, to fill up one or other of the many gaps in our
imperfect happiness; the gods already _have_ all that agents strive to
get, and more than agents ever do get; their condition is one not of
agency, but of tranquil, self-sustaining, fruition. Accordingly,
Epicurus thought (as Aristotle[14] had thought before him) that the
perfect, eternal, and imperturbable well-being and felicity of the gods
excluded the supposition of their being agents. He looked upon them as
types of that unmolested safety and unalloyed satisfaction which was
what he understood by pleasure or happiness--as objects of reverential
envy, whose sympathy he was likely to obtain by assimilating his own
temper and condition to theirs, as far as human circumstances allowed.
These theological views were placed by Epicurus in the foreground of
his ethical philosophy, as the only means of dispelling those fears of
the gods that the current fables instilled into every one, and that did
so much to destroy human comfort and security. He proclaimed that
beings in immortal felicity neither suffered vexation in themselves nor
caused vexation to others--neither showed anger nor favour to
particular persons. The doctrine that they were the working managers in
the affairs of the Cosmos, celestial and terrestrial, human and
extra-human, he not only repudiated as incompatible with their
attributes, but declared to be impious, considering the disorder,
sufferings, and violence, everywhere visible. He disallowed all
prophecy, divination, and oracular inspiration, by which the public
around him believed that the gods were perpetually communicating
special revelations to individuals, and for which Sokrates had felt so
peculiarly thankful.[15]
It is remarkable that Stoics and Epicureans, in spite of their marked
opposition in dogma or theory, agreed so far in practical results, that
both declared these two modes of uneasiness (fear of the gods and fear
of death) to be the great torments of human existence, and both strove
to remove or counterbalance them.
So far, the teaching of Epicurus appears confined to the separate
happiness of each individual, as dependent upon his own prudence,
sobriety, and correct views of Nature. But this is not the whole of the
Epicurean Ethics. The system also considered each man as in
companionship with others; The precepts were shaped accordingly, first
as to Justice, next as to Friendship. In both these, the foundation
whereon Epicurus built was Reciprocity: not pure sacrifice to others,
but partnership with others, beneficial to all. He kept the ideas of
self and of others inseparably knit together in one complex
association: he did not expel or degrade either, in order to give
exclusive ascendancy to the other. The dictate of Natural Justice was
that no man should hurt another: each was bound to abstain from doing
harm to others; each, on this condition, was entitled to count on
security and relief from the fear that others would do harm to him.
Such double aspect, or reciprocity, was essential to social
companionship: those that could not, or would not, accept this
covenant, were unfit for society. If a man does not behave justly
towards others, he cannot expect that they will behave justly towards
him; to live a life of injustice, and expect that others will not find
it out, is idle. The unjust man cannot enjoy a moment of security.
Epicurus laid it down explicitly, that just and righteous dealing was
the indispensable condition to every one's comfort, and was the best
means of attaining it.
The reciprocity of Justice was valid towards all the world; the
reciprocity of friendship went much farther; it involved indefinite and
active beneficence, but could reach only to a select few. Epicurus
insisted emphatically on the value of friendship, as a means of
happiness to both the persons so united. He declared that a good friend
was another self, and that friends ought to be prepared, in case of
need, to die for each other. Yet he declined to recommend an
established community of goods among the members of his fraternity, as
prevailed in the Pythagorean brotherhood: for such an institution (he
said) implied mistrust. He recommended efforts to please and to serve,
and a forwardness to give, for the purpose of gaining and benefiting a
friend, and he even declared that there was more pleasure in conferring
favours than in receiving them; but he was no less strenuous in
inculcating an intelligent gratitude on the receiver. No one except a
wise man (he said) knew how to return a favour properly.[16]
Virtue and happiness, in the theory of Epicurus, were thus inseparable.
A man could not be happy until he had surmounted the fear of death and
the fear of gods instilled by the current fables, which disturbed all
tranquillity of mind; until he had banished those factitious desires
that pushed him into contention for wealth, power, or celebrity; nor
unless he behaved with justice to all, and with active devoted
friendship towards a few. Such a mental condition, which he thought it
was in every man's power to acquire by appropriate teaching and
companionship, constituted virtue; and was the sure as well as the only
precursor of genuine happiness. A mind thus undisturbed and purified
was sufficient to itself. The mere satisfaction of the wants of life,
and the conversation of friends, became then felt pleasures; if more
could be had without preponderant mischief, so much the better; but
Nature, disburthened of her corruptions and prejudices, required no
more to be happy. This at least was as much as the conditions of
humanity admitted: a tranquil, undisturbed, innocuous, non-competitive
fruition, which approached most nearly to the perfect happiness of the
Gods.[17]
The Epicurean theory of virtue is the type of all those that make an
enlightened self-interest the basis of right and wrong. The four
cardinal virtues were explained from the Epicurean point of view.
_Prudence_ was the supreme rule of conduct. It was a calculation and
balancing of pleasures and pains. Its object was a judicious selection
of pleasures to be sought. It teaches men to forego idle wishes, and to
despise idle fears. _Temperance_ is the management of sensual
pleasures. It seeks to avoid excess, so as on the whole to extract as
much pleasure as our bodily organs are capable of affording.
_Fortitude_ is a virtue, because it overcomes fear and pain. It
consists in facing danger or enduring pain, to avoid greater possible
evils. _Justice_ is of artificial origin. It consists in a tacit
agreement among mankind to abstain from injuring one another. The
security that every man has in his person and property, is the great
consideration urging to abstinence from injuring others. But is it not
possible to commit injustice with safety? The answer was, 'Injustice is
not an evil in itself, but becomes so from the fear that haunts the
injurer of not being able to escape the appointed avengers of such
acts.'
The Physics of Epicurus were borrowed in the main from the atomic
theory of Democritus, but were modified by him in a manner subservient
and contributory to his ethical scheme. To that scheme it was essential
that those celestial, atmospheric, or terrestrial phenomena that the
public around him ascribed to the agency and purposes of the gods,
should be understood as being produced by physical causes. An eclipse,
an earthquake, a storm, a shipwreck, unusual rain or drought, a good or
a bad harvest--and not merely these, but many other occurrences far
smaller and more unimportant, as we may see by the eighteenth chapter
of the Characters of Theophrastus--were then regarded as visitations of
the gods, requiring to be interpreted by recognized prophets, and to be
appeased by ceremonial expiations. When once a man became convinced
that all these phenomena proceeded from physical agencies, a host of
terrors and anxieties would disappear from the mind; and this Epicurus
asserted to be the beneficent effect and real recommendation of
physical philosophy. He took little or no thought for scientific
curiosity as a motive _per se_, which both Democritus and Aristotle put
so much in the foreground.
Epicurus adopted the atomistic scheme of Democritus, but with some
important variations. He conceived that the atoms all moved with equal
velocity in the downward direction of gravity. But it occurred to him
that upon this hypothesis there could never occur any collisions or
combinations of the atoms--nothing but continued and unchangeable
parallel lines. Accordingly, he modified it by saying that the line of
descent was not exactly rectilinear, but that each atom deflected a
little from the straight line, and each in its own direction and
degree; so that it became possible to assume collisions, resiliences,
adhesions, combinations, among them, as it had been possible under the
variety of original movements ascribed to them by Democritus. The
opponents of Epicurus derided this auxiliary hypothesis; they affirmed
that he invented the individual deflection of each atom, without
assigning any cause, and only because he was perplexed by the mystery
of man's _free-will_. But Epicurus was not more open to attack on this
ground than other physical philosophers. Most of them (except perhaps
the most consistent of the Stoic fatalists) believed that some among
the phenomena of the universe occurred in regular and predictable
sequence, while others were essentially irregular and unpredictable;
each philosopher devised his hypothesis, and recognized some
fundamental principle, to explain the first class of phenomena as well
as the second. Plato admitted an invincible Erratic necessity;
Aristotle introduced Chance and Spontaneity; Democritus multiplied
indefinitely the varieties of atomic movements. The hypothetical
deflexion alleged by Epicurus was his way, not more unwarranted than
the others, of providing a fundamental principle for the unpredictable
phenomena of the universe. Among these are the mental (including the
volitional) manifestations of men and animals; but there are many
others besides; and there is no ground for believing that the mystery
of free-will was peculiarly present to his mind. The movements of a man
or animal are not exclusively subject to gravitation and other general
laws; they are partly governed by mental impulses and by forces of the
organism, intrinsic and peculiar to himself, unseen and unfelt by
others. For these, in common with many other untraceable phenomena in
the material world, Epicurus provides a principle in the supplementary
hypothesis of deflexion. He rejected the fatalism contained in the
theories of some of the Stoics, and admitted a limited range of empire
to chance, or irregularity. But he maintained that the will, far from
being among the phenomena essentially irregular, is under the influence
of motives; for no man can insist more strenuously than he does (see
the Letter to Menoecens) on the complete power of philosophy,--if the
student could be made to feel its necessity and desire the attainment
of it, so as to meditate and engrain within himself sound views about
the gods, death, and human life generally,--to mould our volitions and
character in a manner conformable to the exigencies of virtue and
happiness.
When we read the explanations given by Epicurus and Lucretius of what
the Epicurean theory really was, and compare them with the numerous
attacks made upon it by opponents, we cannot but remark that the title
or formula of the theory was ill chosen, and was really a misnomer.
What Epicurus meant by Pleasure was, not what most people meant by it,
but something very different--a tranquil and comfortable state of mind
and body; much the same as what Democritus had expressed before him by
the phrase [Greek: euthymia]. This last phrase would have expressed
what Epicurus aimed at, neither more nor less. It would at least have
preserved his theory from much misplaced sarcasm and aggressive
rhetoric.
THE NEO-PLATONISTS.
PLOTINUS (A.D. 205--70), PORPHYRY, &c.
Constructed with reference to the broken-down state of ancient society,
and seeking its highest aim in a regeneration of humanity, the
philosophical system of Neo-Platonism was throughout ethical or
ethico-religious in spirit; yet its ethics admits of no great
development according to the usual topics. A pervading ethical
character is not incompatible with the absence of a regular ethical
scheme; and there was this peculiarity in the system, that its end,
though professedly moral, was to be attained by means of an
intellectual regimen. In setting up its ideal of human effort, it was
least of all careful about prescribing a definite course of external
conduct.
The more strictly ethical views of PLOTINUS, the chief representative
of the school, are found mainly in the first of the six Enneads into
which Porphyry collected his master's essays. But as they presuppose
the cosmological and psychological doctrines, their place in the works,
as now arranged, is to be regarded as arbitrary. The soul having fallen
from its original condition, and, in consequence and as a penalty,
having become united with a material body, the one true aim recognized
for human action is, to rise above the debasing connection with matter,
and again to lead the old spiritual life. For those that have sunk so
far as to be content with the world of sense, wisdom consists in
pursuing pleasure as good, and shunning pain as evil: but the others
can partake of a better life, in different degrees. The first step in
reformation is to practise virtue in the affairs of life, which means
to subject Sense and the lower desires to Reason. This is done in the
fourfold form of the common cardinal virtues, called _political_ by
Plotinus, to mark the sphere of action where they can be exerted, and
is the virtue of a class of men capable of a certain elevation, though
ignorant of all the rest that lies above them. A second step is made
through the means of the [Greek: katharseis] or _purifying_ virtues;
where it is sought to root out, instead of merely moderating, the
sensual affections. If the soul is thus altogether freed from the
dominion of sense, it becomes at once able to follow its natural bent
towards good, and enters into a permanent state of calm. This is virtue
in its true meaning--becoming like to the Deity, all that went before
being merely a preparation. The pure and perfect life of the soul may
still be described as a field whereon the four virtues are exercised,
but they now assume a far higher meaning than as political virtues,
having relation solely to the contemplative life of the Nous.
Happiness is unknown to Plotinus as distinct from perfection, and
perfection in the sense of having subdued all material cravings (except
as regards the bare necessities of life), and entered upon the
undisturbed life of contemplation. If this recalls, at least in name,
the Aristotelian ideal, there are points added that appear to be echoes
of Stoicism. Rapt in the contemplation of eternal verities, the
purified soul is indifferent to external circumstances: pain and
suffering are unheeded, and the just man can feel happy even in the
bull of Phalaris. But in one important respect the Neo-Platonic
teaching is at variance with Stoical doctrine. Though its first and
last precept is to rid the soul from the bondage of matter, it warns
against the attempt to sever body and soul by suicide. By no forcible
separation, which would be followed by a new junction, but only by
prolonged internal effort is the soul so set free from the world of
sense, as to be able to have a vision of its ancient home while still
in the body, and to return to it at death. Small, therefore, as is the
consideration bestowed by Neo-Platonism on the affairs of practical
life, it has no disposition to shirk the burden of them.
One other peculiar aim, the highest of all, is proposed to the soul in
the Alexandrian philosophy. It is peculiar, because to be understood
only in connexion with the metaphysics and cosmology of the system. In
the theory of Emanation, the primordial One or Good emits the Nous
wherein the Ideas are immanent; the Nous, in turn, sends forth the
Soul, and the Soul, Matter or nature; the gradation applying to man as
well as to the Universe. Now, to each of these principles, there is a
corresponding subjective state in the inner life of man. The life of
sense answers to nature or the material body; the virtue that is
founded upon free-will and reason, to the soul; the contemplative life,
as the result of complete purification from sense, to the Nous or
Sphere of Ideas; finally, to the One or Good, supreme in the scale of
existence, corresponds the state of Love, or, in its highest form,
_Ecstasy_. This peculiar elevation is something far above the highest
intellectual contemplation, and is not reached by thought. It is not
even a mere intuition of, but a real union or contact with, the Good.
To attain it, there must be a complete withdrawal into self from the
external world, and then the subject must wait quietly till perchance
the state comes on. It is one of ineffable bliss, but, from the nature
of man, transitory and rare.
SCHOLASTIC ETHICS.
ABAELARD (1079-1142) has a special treatise on the subject of Ethics,
entitled _Scito te ipsum_. As the name implies, it lays chief stress
upon the Subjective element in morality, and, in this aspect, is
considered to supply the idea that underlies a very large portion of
modern ethical speculation. By nature a notoriously independent
thinker, Abaelard claimed for philosophy the right of discussing
ethical questions and fixing a natural moral law, though he allowed a
corrective in the Christian scheme. Having this position with reference
to the church, he was also much less under the yoke of philosophical
authority than his successors, from living at a time when Aristotle was
not yet supreme. Yet, with Aristotle, he assigns the attainment of the
highest good as the aim of all human effort, Ethics showing the way;
and, with the schoolmen generally, pronounces the highest good to be
God. If the highest good in itself is God, the highest human good is
love to God. This is attained by way of virtue, which is a good Will
consolidated into a habit. On the influence of habit on action his view
is Aristotelian. His own specialty lies in his judging actions solely
with reference to the intention _(intentio)_ of the agent, and this
intention with reference to conscience _(conscientia)_. All actions, he
says, are in themselves indifferent, and not to be called good or evil
except from the intention of the doer. _Peccatum_, is properly only the
action that is done with evil intent; and where this is present, where
the mental consent _(consensus)_ is clearly established, there is
_peccatum_, though the action remains unexecuted. When the _consensus_
is absent, as in original sin, there is only _vitium_; hence, a life
without _peccata_ is not impossible to men in the exercise of their
freedom, however difficult it may be.
The supremacy assigned by him to the subjective element of conscience
appears in such phrases as, there is no sin except against conscience;
also in the opinion he pronounces, that, though in the case of a
mistaken moral conviction, an action is not to be called good, yet it
is not so bad as an action objectively right but done against
conscience. Thus, without allowing that conscientious persecutors of
Christians act rightly, he is not afraid, in the application of his
principle, to say that they would act still more wrongly if through not
listening to their conscience, they spared their victims. But this
means only that by following conscience we avoid sinning; for virtue in
the full sense, it is necessary that the conscience should have judged
rightly. By what standard, however, this is to be ascertained, he
nowhere clearly says. _Contemptus Dei_, given by him as the real and
only thing that constitutes an action bad, is merely another subjective
description.
ST. BERNARD of Clairvaux (1091-1153), the strenuous opponent of
Abaelard, and the great upholder of mysticism against rationalism in
the early scholastic period when the two were not yet reconciled, gave
utterance, in the course of his mystical effusions, to some special
views of love and disinterestedness.
There are two degrees of Christian virtue, Humility and Charity or
Love. When men look into themselves, and behold the meanness that is
found there, the fitting state of mind is, first, humility; but soon
the sense of their very weakness begets in them charity and compassion
towards others, while the sense also of a certain human dignity raises
within them feelings of love towards the author of their being. The
treatise _De Amore Dei_ sets forth the nature of this love, which is
the highest exercise of human powers. Its fundamental characteristic is
its disinterestedness. It has its reward, but from meriting, not from
seeking. It is purely voluntary, and, as a free sentiment, necessarily
unbought; it has God for its single object, and would not be love to
God, if he were loved for the sake of something else.
He distinguishes various degrees of love. There is, first, a natural
love of self for the sake of self. Next, a motion of love towards God
amid earthly misfortunes, which also is not disinterested. The third
degree is different, being love to God for his own sake, and to our
neighbour for God's sake. But the highest grade of all is not reached,
until men come to love even themselves only by relation to God; at this
point, with the disappearance of all special and interested affection,
the mystic goal is attained.
JOHN of SALISBURY (d. 1180) is the last name to be cited in the early
scholastic period. He professed to be a practical philosopher, to be
more concerned about the uses of knowledge than about knowledge itself,
and to subordinate everything to some purpose; by way of protest
against the theoretic hair-splitting and verbal subtleties of his
predecessors. Even more than in Ethics, he found in Politics his proper
sphere. He was the staunchest upholder of the Papal Supremacy, which,
after long struggles, was about to be established at its greatest
height, before presiding at the opening of the most brilliant period of
scholasticism.
In the _Policraticus_ especially, but also in his other works, the
foundations and provisions of his moral system are found. He has no
distinction to draw in Ethics between theology and philosophy, but uses
Scripture and observation alike, though Scripture always in the final
appeal. Of philosophizing, the one final aim, as also of existence, is
Happiness; the question, of questions, how it is to be attained.
Happiness is not pleasure, nor possession, nor honour, but consists in
following the path of virtue. Virtue is to be understood from the
constitution of human nature. In man, there is a lower and a higher
faculty of Desire; or, otherwise expressed, there are the various
affections that have their roots in sense and centre in self-love or
the desire of self-preservation, and there is also a natural love of
justice implanted from the beginning. In proportion as the _appetitus
justi_, which consists in will, gains upon the _appetitus commodi_, men
become more worthy of a larger happiness. Self-love rules in man, so
long as he is in the natural state of sin; if, amid great conflict and
by divine help, the higher affection gains the upper hand, the state of
true virtue, which is identical with the theoretic state of belief, and
also of pure love to God and man, is reached.
By the middle of the thirteenth century, the schoolmen had before them
the whole works of Aristotle, obtained from Arabian and other sources.
Whereas, previous to this time, they had comprehended nearly all the
subjects of Philosophy under the one name of Dialectics or Logic,
always reserving, however, Ethics to Theology, they were now made aware
of the ancient division of the sciences, and of what had been
accomplished in each. The effect, both in respect of form and of
subject-matter, was soon apparent in such compilations or more
independent works as they were able to produce after their commentaries
on the Aristotelian text. But in Ethics, the nature of the subject
demanded of men in their position a less entire submission to the
doctrines of the pagan philosopher; and here accordingly they clung to
the traditional theological treatment. If they were commenting on the
Ethics of Aristotle, the Bible was at hand to supply his omissions; if
they were setting up a complete moral system, they took little more
than the ground-work from him, the rest being Christian ideas and
precepts, or fragments borrowed from Platonism and other Greek systems,
nearly allied in spirit to their own faith.
This is especially true, as will be seen, of Thomas Aquinas. His
predecessors can be disposed of in a few words. ALEXANDER of HALES (d.
1245) was almost purely theological. BONAVENTURA (1221-74) in his
double character of rigid Franciscan and mystic, was led far beyond the
Aristotelian Ethics. The mean between excess and defect is a very good
rule for the affairs of life, but the true Christian is bound besides
to works of supererogation: first of all, to take on the condition of
poverty; while the state of mystic contemplation remains as a still
higher goal for the few. ALBERT THE GREAT (1193-1280), the most learned
and complete commentator of Aristotle that had yet appeared, divide the
whole subject of Ethics into _Monastica, Oeconomica_, and _Politica_.
In this division, which is plainly suggested by the Aristotelian
division of Politics in the large sense, the term _Monastica_ not
inaptly expresses the reference that Ethics has to the conduct of men
as individuals. Albert, however, in commenting on the Nicomachean
Ethics, adds exceedingly little to the results of his author beyond the
incorporation of a few Scriptural ideas. To the cardinal virtues he
appends the _virtutes adjunctae_, Faith, Hope, and Charity, and again
in his compendious work, _Summa Theologiae_, distinguishes them as
_infusae_, the cardinal being considered as _acquisitae_.
Besides his commentaries on the Aristotelian works (the Ethics
included) and many other writings, THOMAS AQUINAS (1226-74) left two
large works, the _Summa philosophica_ and the famous _Summa
Theologiae_. Notwithstanding the prominence assigned to theological
questions, the first is a regular philosophical work; the second,
though containing the exposition of philosophical opinions, is a
theological textbook. Now, as it is in the Summary for theological
purposes that the whole practical philosophy of Aquinas is contained,
it is to be inferred that he regarded the subject of Ethics as not on
the same level with other departments of philosophy. Moreover, even
when he is not appealing to Scripture, he is seen to display what is
for him a most unusual tendency to desert Aristotle, at the really
critical moments, for Plato or Plotinus, or any other authority of a
more theological cast.
In the (unfinished) _Summa Theologiae_, the Ethical views and cognate
questions occupy the two sections of the second part--the so-called
_prima_ and _secunda secundae_. He begins, in the Aristotelian fashion,
by seeking an ultimate end of human action, and finds it in the
attainment of the highest good or happiness. But as no created thing
can answer to the idea of the highest good, it must be placed in God.
God, however, as the highest good, can only be the object, in the
search after human happiness, for happiness in itself is a state of the
mind or act of the soul. The question then arises, "what sort of act?"
Does it fall under the Will or under the Intelligence? The answer is,
Not under the will, because happiness is neither desire nor pleasure,
but _consecutio_, that is, a possessing. Desire precedes _consecutio_,
and pleasure follows upon it; but the act of getting possession, in
which lies happiness, is distinct from both. This is illustrated by the
case of the miser having his happiness in the mere possession of money;
and the position is essentially the same as Butler's, in regard to our
appetites and desires, that they blindly seek their objects with no
regard to pleasure. Thomas concludes that the _consecutio_, or
happiness, is an act of the intelligence; what pleasure there is being
a mere accidental accompaniment.
Distinguishing between two phases of the intellect--the theoretic and
the practical--in the one of which it is an end to itself, but in the
other subordinated to an external aim, he places true happiness in acts
of the self-sufficing theoretic intelligence. In this life, however,
such a constant exercise of the intellect is not possible, and
accordingly what happiness there is, must be found, in great measure,
in the exercise of the practical intellect, directing and governing the
lower desires and passions. This twofold conception of happiness is
Aristotelian, even as expressed by Thomas under the distinction of
perfect and imperfect happiness; but when he goes on to associate
perfect happiness with the future life only, to found an argument for a
future life from the desire of a happiness more perfect than can be
found here, and to make the pure contemplation, in which consists
highest bliss, a vision of the divine essence face to face, a direct
cognition of Deity far surpassing demonstrative knowledge or mortal
faith--he is more theologian than philosopher, or if a philosopher,
more Platonist than Aristotelian.
The condition of perfect happiness being a theoretic or intellectual
state, the _visio_, and not the _delectatio_, is consistently given as
its central fact; and when he proceeds to consider the other questions
of Ethics, the same superiority is steadily ascribed to the
intellectual function. It is because we _know_ a thing to be good that
we wish it, and knowing it, we cannot help wishing. Conscience, as the
name implies, is allied to knowledge. Reason gives the law to will.
After a long disquisition about the passions and the whole appetitive
side of human nature, over which Reason is called to rule, he is
brought to the subject of virtue. He is Aristotelian enough to describe
virtue as _habitus_--a disposition or quality (like health) whereby a
subject is more or less well disposed with reference to itself or
something else; and he takes account of the acquisition of good moral
habits (_virtutes acquisitae_) by practice. But with this he couples,
or tends to substitute for it, the definition of Augustin that virtue
is a good quality of mind, _quam Deus in nobis sine nobis operatur_, as
a ground for _virtutes infusae_, conferred as gifts upon man, or rather
on certain men, by free grace from on high. He wavers greatly at this
stage, and in this respect his attitude is characteristic for all the
schoolmen.
So again in passing from the general question of Virtue to the virtues,
he puts several of the systems under contribution, as if not prepared
to leave the guidance of Aristotle, but feeling at the same time the
necessity of bridging over the distance between his position and
Christian requirements. Understanding Aristotle to make a co-ordinate
division of virtues into Moral and Intellectual, he gives reasons for
such a step. Though virtue, he says, is not so much the perfecting of
the operation of our faculties, as their employment by the will for
good ends, it may be used in the first sense, and thus the intellectual
virtues will be the habits of intelligence that procure the truest
knowledge. The well-known division of the cardinal virtues is his next
theme; and it is established as complete and satisfactory by a twofold
deduction. But a still higher and more congenial view is immediately
afterwards adopted from Plotinus. This is the Neo-Platonic description
of the four virtues as _politicae, purgatoriae_, and _purgati animi_,
according to the scale of elevation reached by the soul in its efforts
to mount above sense. They are called by Thomas also _exemplares_, when
regarded at once as the essence of the Deity, and as the models of
human perfections.
This mystical division, not unsupported by philosophical authority,
smooths the way for his account of the highest or _theological_
virtues. These bear upon the vision of Deity, which was recognized
above as the highest good of humanity, and form an order apart. They
have God for their object, are altogether inspired by God (hence called
_infusae_), and are taught by revelation. Given in connection with the
natural faculties of intellect and will, they are exhibited in the
attainment of the supernatural order of things. With intellect goes
_Faith_, as it were the intellect applied to things not intelligible;
with Will go Hope and Charity or Love: Hope being the Will exercised
upon things not naturally desired, and Love the union of Will with what
is not naturally brought near to us.
Aquinas then passes to politics, or at least the discussion of the
political ideas of law, right, &c.
Coming now to _modern_ thinkers, we begin with
THOMAS HOBBES. [1588-1679.]
The circumstances of Hobbes's life, so powerful in determining the
nature of his opinions, had an equally marked effect on the order and
number of expositions that he gave to the psychological and political
parts of his system. His ethical doctrines, in as far as they can be
dissociated from, his politics, may be studied in no less than three
distinct forms; either in the first part of the Leviathian (1651); or
in the De Cive (1647), taken along-with the _De Homine_ (1658); or in
the Treatise of Human Nature (1650, but written ten years earlier),
coupled with the De Corpore Politico (also 1650). But the same result,
or with only unimportant variations, being obtained from all, we need
not here go beyond the first-mentioned.
In the first part of the Leviathan, then, bearing the title _Of Man_,
and designed to consider Man as at once the _matter_ and _artificer_ of
the Commonwealth or State, Hobbes is led, after discussing Sense,
Imagination, Train of Imaginations, Speech, Reason and Science, to take
up, in chapter sixth, the Passions, or, as he calls them, the Interior
beginnings of voluntary motions. Motions, he says, are either vital and
animal, or voluntary. Vital motions, _e.g._, circulation, nutrition,
&c., need no help of imagination; on the other hand, voluntary motions,
as going and speaking--since they depend on a precedent thought of
whither, which way, and what--have in the imagination their first
beginning. But imagination is only the relics of sense, and sense, as
Hobbes always declares, is motion in the human organs communicated by
objects without; consequently, visible voluntary motions begin in
invisible internal motions, whose nature is expressed by the word
_Endeavour_. When the endeavour is towards something causing it, there
is Appetite or Desire; endeavour 'fromward something' is Aversion.
These very words, and the corresponding terms in Greek, imply an
actual, not--as the schoolmen absurdly think--a metaphorical motion.
Passing from the main question, he describes Love and Hate as Desire
and Aversion when the object is present. Of appetites, some are born
with us, others proceed from experience, being of particular things.
Where we neither desire nor hate, we contemn [he means, disregard].
Appetites and aversions vary in the same person, and much more in
different persons.
Then follows his definition of _good_,--the object of any man's
appetite or desire, as evil is the object of his hate and aversion.
Good and evil are always merely relative, either to the person of a
man, or in a commonwealth to the representative person, or to an
arbitrator if chosen to settle a dispute. Good in the promise is
_pulchrum_, for which there is no exact English term; good in the
effect, as the end desired, is _delightful_; good as the means, is
_useful_ or _profitable_. There is the same variety of evil.
His next topic is Pleasure. As sense is, in _reality_, motion, but, in
'_apparence_,' light or sound or odour; so appetite, in reality a
motion or endeavour effected in the heart by the action of objects
through the organs of sense, is, in 'apparence,' delight or trouble of
mind. The emotion, whose _apparence_ (_i.e._, subjective side) is
pleasure or delight, seems to be a corroboration of vital motion; the
contrary, in the case of molestation. Pleasure is, therefore, the sense
of good; displeasure, the sense of evil. The one accompanies, in
greater or less degree, all desire and love; the other, all aversion
and hatred. Pleasures are either of _sense_; or of the _mind_, when
arising-from the expectation that proceeds from the foresight of the
ends or consequence of things, irrespective of their pleasing the
senses or not. For these mental pleasures, there is the general name
_joy_. There is a corresponding division of displeasure into _pain_ and
_grief_.
All the other passions, he now proceeds to show, are these _simple_
passions--appetite, desire, love, aversion, hate, joy, and grief,
diversified in name for divers considerations. Incidental remarks of
ethical importance are these. _Covetousness_, the desire of riches, is
a name signifying blame, because men contending for them are displeased
with others attaining them; the desire itself, however, is to be blamed
or allowed, according to the means whereby the riches are sought.
_Curiosity_ is a lust of the mind, that by a perseverance of delight in
the continual generation of knowledge, exceedeth the short vehemence of
any carnal pleasure. _Pity_ is grief for the calamity of another,
arising from the imagination of the like calamity befalling one's self;
the best men have, therefore, least pity for calamity arising from
great wickedness. _Contempt_, or little sense of the calamity of
others, proceeds from security of one's own fortune; 'for that any man
should take pleasure in other men's great harms, without other end of
his own, I do not conceive it possible.'
Having explained the various passions, he then gives his theory of the
Will. He supposes a _liberty_ in man of doing or omitting, according to
appetite or aversion. But to this liberty an end is put in the state of
_deliberation_ wherein there is kept up a constant succession of
alternating desires and aversions, hopes and fears, regarding one and
the same thing. One of two results follows. Either the thing is judged
impossible, or it is done; and this, according as aversion or appetite
triumphs at the last. Now, the last aversion, followed by omission, or
the last appetite, followed by action, is the act of _Willing_. Will
is, therefore, the last appetite (taken to include aversion) in
deliberating. So-called Will, that has been forborne, was _inclination_
merely; but the last inclination with consequent action (or omission)
is Will, or voluntary action.
After mentioning the forms of speech where the several passions and
appetites are naturally expressed, and remarking that the truest signs
of passion are in the countenance, motions of the body, actions, and
ends or aims otherwise known to belong to a man,--he returns to the
question of good and evil. It is _apparent_ good and evil, come at by
the best possible foresight of all the consequences of action, that
excite the appetites and aversions in deliberation. _Felicity_ he
defines continual success in obtaining the things from time to time
desired; perpetual tranquillity of mind being impossible in this life,
which is but motion, and cannot be without desire and fear any more
than without sense. The happiness of the future life is at present
unknown.
Men, he says at the close, _praise_ the goodness, and _magnify_ the
greatness, of a thing; the Greeks had also the word [Greek:
makarismos], to express an opinion of a man's felicity.
In Chapter VII., Of the Ends of Discourse, he is led to remark on the
meaning of _Conscience_, in connection-with the word _Conscious_. Two
or more men, he says, are conscious of a thing when they know it
together (_con-scire_.) Hence arises the proper meaning of conscience;
and the evil of speaking against one's conscience, in this sense, is to
be allowed. Two other meanings are metaphorical: when it is put for a
man's knowledge of his own secret facts and thoughts; and when men give
their own new opinions, however absurd, the reverenced name of
conscience, as if they would have it seem unlawful to change or speak
against them. [Hobbes is not concerned to foster the moral independence
of individuals.]
He begins Chapter VIII. by defining Virtue as something that is valued
for eminence, and that consists in comparison, but proceeds to consider
only the intellectual virtues--all that is summed up in the term of a
_good wit_--and their opposites. Farther on, he refers difference of
wits--discretion, prudence, craft, &c.--to difference in the passions,
and this to difference in constitution of body and of education. The
passions chiefly concerned are the desires of power, riches, knowledge,
honour, but all may be reduced to the single desire of power.
In Chapter IX. is given his Scheme of Sciences. The relation in his
mind between Ethics and Politics is here seen. Science or Philosophy is
divided into Natural or Civil, according as it is knowledge of
consequences from the accidents of natural bodies or of politic bodies.
Ethics is one of the ultimate divisions of Natural Philosophy, dealing
with consequences from the _passions_ of men; and because the passions
are _qualities_ of bodies, it falls more immediately under the head of
Physics. Politics is the whole of the second main division, and deals
with consequences from the institution of commonwealths (1) to the
rights and duties of the Sovereign, and (2) to the duty and right of
the Subject.
Ethics, accordingly, in Hobbes's eyes, is part of the science of man
(as a natural body), and it is always treated as such. But subjecting,
as he does, so much of the action of the individual to the action of
the state, he necessarily includes in his Politics many questions that
usually fall to Ethics. Hence arises the necessity of studying for his
Ethics also part of the civil Philosophy; though it happens that, in
the Leviathan, this requisite part is incorporated with the Section
containing the Science of Man.
Chapter X. is on Power, Worth, Dignity, Honour, and Worthiness. A man's
_power_ being his present means to obtain some future apparent good, he
enumerates all the sources of original and acquired power. The _worth_
of a man is what would be given for the use of his power; it is,
therefore, never absolute, but dependent on the need and judgment of
another. _Dignity_ is the value set on a man by the state. _Honour_ and
_dishonour_ are the manifestation of value. He goes through all the
signs of honour and dishonour. _Honourable_ is any possession, action,
or quality that is the sign of power. Where there is the opinion of
power, the justice or injustice of an action does not affect the
honour. He clearly means a universally accepted opinion of power, and
cites the characters of the pagan deities. So, too, before times of
civil order, it was held no dishonour to be a pirate, and even still,
duels, though unlawful, are honourable, and will be till there be
honour ordained for them that refuse. Farther on, he distinguishes
_Worthiness_, (1) from worth, and (2) from merit, or the possession of
a particular ability or desert, which, as will be seen, presupposes a
right to a thing, founded on a promise.
Chapter XI. bears the title, Of the difference of Manners; by manners
being meant, not decency of behaviour and points of the 'small morals,'
but the qualities of mankind that concern their living together in
peace and unity. Felicity of life, as before, he pronounces to be a
continual progress of desire, there being no _finis ultimus_ nor
_summum bonum_. The aim of all men is, therefore, not only to enjoy
once and for an instant, but to assure for over the way of future
desire. Men differ in their way of doing so, from diversity of passion
and their different degrees of knowledge. One thing he notes as common
to all, a restless and perpetual desire of power after power, because
the present power of living well depends on the acquisition of more.
Competition inclines to contention and war. The desire of ease, on the
other hand, and fear of death or wounds, dispose to civil obedience. So
also does desire of knowledge, implying, as it does, desire of leisure.
Desire of praise and desire of fame after death dispose to laudable
actions; in such fame, there is a present delight from foresight of it,
and of benefit redounding to posterity; for pleasure to the sense is
also pleasure in the imagination. Unrequitable benefits from an equal
engender secret hatred, but from a superior, love; the cheerful
acceptation, called _gratitude_, requiting the giver with honour.
Requitable benefits, even from equals or inferiors, dispose to love;
for hence arises emulation in benefiting--'the most noble and
profitable contention possible, wherein the victor is pleased with his
victory, and the other revenged by confessing it.' He passes under
review other dispositions, such as fear of oppression, vain-glory,
ambition, pusillanimity, frugality, &c., with reference to the course
of conduct they prompt to. Then he comes to a favourite subject, the
mistaken courses whereinto men fall that are ignorant of natural causes
and the proper signification of words. The effect of ignorance of the
causes of right, equity, law, and justice, is to make custom and
example the rule of actions, as with children, or to induce the setting
of custom against reason, and reason against custom, whereby the
doctrine of right and wrong is perpetually disputed, both by the pen,
and by the sword. Again, taking up ignorance of the laws of nature, he
is led on to the subject of natural Religion, and devotes also the
whole of Chapter XII. to Religion and kindred topics.
In Chapter XIII., he deals with the natural condition of Mankind, as
concerning their Felicity and Misery. All men, he says, are by nature
equal. Differences there are in the faculties of body and mind, but,
when all is taken together, not great enough to establish a steady
superiority of one over another. Besides even more than in strength,
men are equal in _prudence_, which is but experience that comes to all.
People indeed generally believe that others are not so wise as
themselves, but 'there is not ordinarily a greater sign of equal
distribution of anything than that every person is contented with his
share.'
Of this equality of ability, the consequence is that two men desiring
the exclusive possession of the same thing, whether for their own
conservation or for delectation, will become enemies and seek to
destroy each other. In such a case, it will be natural for any man to
seek to secure himself by anticipating others in the use of force or
wiles; and, because some will not be content with merely securing
themselves, others, who would be content, will be driven to take the
offensive for mere self-conservation. Moreover, men will be displeased
at being valued by others less highly than by themselves, and will use
force to extort respect.
Thus, he finds three principal causes of quarrel in the nature of
man--_competition, diffidence_ (distrust), and _glory_, making men
invade for gain, for safety, and for reputation. Men will accordingly,
in the absence of any power to keep them in awe, be in a constant state
of war; by which is meant, not actual fighting, but the known
disposition thereto, and no assurance to the contrary.
He proceeds to draw a very dismal picture of the results of this state
of enmity of man against man--no industry, no agriculture, no arts, no
society, and so forth, but only fear and danger of violent death, and
life solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short. To those that doubt the
truth of such an 'inference made from the passions,' and desire the
confirmation of experience, he cites the wearing of arms and locking of
doors, &c., as actions that accuse mankind as much as any words of his.
Besides, it is not really to accuse man's nature; for the desires and
passions are in themselves no sin, nor the actions proceeding from
them, until a law is made against them. He seeks further evidence of an
original condition of war, in the actual state of American savages,
with no government at all, but only a concord of small families,
depending on natural lust; also in the known horrors of a civil war,
when there is no common power to fear: and, finally, in the constant
hostile attitude of different governments.
In the state of natural war, the notions of right and wrong, justice
and injustice, have no place, there being no law; and there is no law,
because there is no common power. Force and fraud are in war the two
cardinal virtues. Justice is no faculty of body and mind like sense and
passion, but only a quality relating to men in society. Then adding a
last touch to the description of the state of nature,--by saying of
property, that 'only that is every man's that he can get, and for so
long as he can keep it,'--he opens up, at the close of the chapter, a
new prospect by allowing a possibility to come out of so evil a
condition. The possibility consists partly in the passions that incline
to peace--viz., fear of death, desire of things necessary to commodious
living, and hope by industry to obtain them; partly in reason, which
suggests convenient articles of peace and agreement, otherwise called
the Laws of Nature.
The first and second Natural Laws, and the subject of contracts, take
up Chap. XIV. First comes a definition of _Jus Naturale_ or Right of
Nature--the liberty each man has of using his own power, as he will
himself, for the preservation of his own nature or life. Liberty
properly means the absence of external impediments; now a man may
externally be hindered from doing all he would, but not from using what
power is left him, according to his best reason and judgment. A Law of
Nature, _lex naturalis_ is defined, a general rule, found out by
reason, forbidding a man to do what directly or indirectly is
destructive of his life, or to omit what he thinks may best preserve
it. Right and Law, though generally confounded, are exactly opposed,
Right being liberty, and Law obligation.
In the natural state of war, every man, being governed by his own
reason, has a right to everything, even to another's body. But because
thus no man's life is secure, he finds the First and fundamental law of
nature, or general rule of reason, to be _to seek peace and follow it,
if possible_: failing which, we may defend ourselves by all the means
we can. Here the law being 'to endeavour peace,' from this follows the
Second law, that a man be willing, when others are so too, as far forth
as for peace and self-defence he shall think it necessary, to _lay down
this right to all things_; and be contented with so much liberty
against other men as he would allow other men against himself. This is
the same as the Gospel precept, Do to others, &c.
Laying down one's right to anything is divesting one's self of the
liberty of hindering another in the exercise of his own original right
to the same. The right is _renounced_, when a man cares not for whose
benefit; _transferred_, when intended to benefit some certain person or
persons. In either case the man is _obliged_ or _bound_ not to hinder
those, in whose favour the right is abandoned, from the benefit of it;
it is his _duty_ not to make void his own voluntary act, and if he
does, it is _injustice_ or _injury_, because he acts now _sine Jure_.
Such conduct Hobbes likens to an intellectual absurdity or
self-contradiction. Voluntary signs to be employed in abandoning a
right, are words and actions, separately or together; but in all bonds,
the strength comes not from their own nature, but from the fear of evil
resulting from their rupture.
He concludes that not all rights are alienable, for the reason that the
abandonment, being a voluntary act, must have for its object some good
to the person that abandons his right. A man, for instance, cannot lay
down the right to defend his life; to use words or other signs for that
purpose, would be to despoil himself of the end--security of life and
person--for which those signs were intended.
_Contract_ is the mutual transferring of right, and with this idea he
connects a great deal. First, he distinguishes transference of right to
a thing, and transference of the thing itself. A contract fulfilled by
one party, but left on trust to be fulfilled by the other, is called
the _Covenant_ of this other, (a distinction he afterwards drops), and
leaves room for the keeping or violation of faith. To contract he
opposes _gift, free-gift_, or _grace_, where there is no mutual
transference of right, but one party transfers in the hope of gaining
friendship or service from another, or the reputation of charity and
magnanimity, or deliverance from the merited pain of compassion, or
reward in heaven.
There follow remarks on signs of contract, as either express or by
inference, and a distinction between free-gift as made by words of the
present or past, and contract as made by words past, present, or
future; wherefore, in contracts like buying and selling, a promise
amounts to a covenant, and is obligatory.
The idea of _Merit_ is thus explained. Of two contracting parties, the
one that has first performed merits what he is to receive by the
other's performance, or has it as _due_. Even the person that wins a
prize, offered by free-gift to many, merits it. But, whereas, in
contract, I merit by virtue of my own power and the other contractor's
need, in the case of the gift, I merit only by the benignity of the
giver, and to the extent that, when he has given it, it shall be mine
rather than another's. This distinction he believes to coincide with
the scholastic separation of _merilum congrui_ and _merilum condigni_.
He adds many more particulars in regard to covenants made on mutual
trust. They are void in the state of nature, upon any reasonable
suspicion; but when there is a common power to compel observance, and
thus no more room for fear, they are valid. Even when fear makes them
invalid it must have arisen after they were made, else it should have
kept them from being made. Transference of a right implies
transference, as far as may be, of the means to its enjoyment. With
beasts there is no covenant, because no proper mutual understanding.
With God also none, except through special revelation, or with his
lieutenant in his name. Anything vowed contrary to the law of nature is
vowed in vain; if the thing vowed is commanded by the law of nature,
the law, not the vow, binds. Covenants are of things possible and
future. Men are freed from them by performance, or forgiveness, which
is restitution of liberty. He pronounces covenants extorted by fear to
be binding alike in the state of mere nature and in commonwealths, if
once entered into. A former covenant makes void a later. Any covenant
not to defend one's self from force by force is always void; as said
above, there is no transference possible of right to defend one's self
from death, wounds, imprisonment, &c. So no man is obliged to accuse
himself, or generally to give testimony where from the nature of the
case it may be presumed to be corrupted. Accusation upon torture is not
to be reputed as testimony. At the close he remarks upon oaths. He
finds in human nature two imaginable helps to strengthen the force of
words, otherwise too weak to insure the performance of covenants. One
of these--_pride_ in appearing not to need to break one's word, he
supposes too rare to be presumed upon. The other, _fear_, has reference
either to power of spirits invisible, or of men. In the state of
nature, it is the first kind of fear--a man's religion--that keeps him
to his promises. An oath is therefore swearing to perform by the God a
man fears. But to the obligation itself it adds nothing.
Of the other Laws of Nature, treated in Chap. XV., the third, _that men
perform their covenants made_, opens up the discussion of _Justice_.
Till rights have been transferred and covenants made there is no
justice or injustice; injustice is no other than the non-performance of
covenants. Further, justice (and also property) begins only where a
regular coercive power is constituted, because otherwise there is cause
for fear, and fear, as has been seen, makes covenants invalid. Even the
scholastic definition of justice recognizes as much; for there can be
no constant will of giving to every man his own, when, as in the state
of nature, there is no _own_. He argues at length against the idea that
justice, _i.e._, the keeping of covenants, is contrary to reason;
repelling three different arguments. (1) He demonstrates that it cannot
be reasonable to break or keep covenants according to benefit supposed
to be gained in each case, because this would be a subversion of the
principles whereon society is founded, and must end by depriving the
individual of its benefits, whereby he would be left perfectly
helpless. (2) He considers it frivolous to talk of securing the
happiness of heaven by any kind of injustice, when there is but one
possible way of attaining it, viz., the keeping of covenants. (3) He
warns men (he means his contemporaries) against resorting to the mode
of injustice known as rebellion to gain sovereignty, from the
hopelessness of gaining it and the uncertainty of keeping it. Hence he
concludes that justice is a rule of reason, the keeping of covenants
being the surest way to preserve our life, and therefore a law of
nature. He rejects the notion that laws of nature are to be supposed
conducive, not to the preservation of life on earth, but to the
attainment of eternal felicity; whereto such breach of covenant as
rebellion may sometimes be supposed a means. For that, the knowledge of
the future life is too uncertain. Finally, he consistently holds that
faith is to be kept with heretics and with all that it has once been
pledged to.
He goes on to distinguish between justice of men or manners, and
justice of actions; whereby in the one case men are _just_ or
_righteous_, and in the other, _guiltless_. After making the common
observation that single inconsistent acts do not destroy a character
for justice or injustice, he has this: 'That which gives to human
actions the relish of justice, is a certain nobleness or gallantness of
courage rarely found, by which a man scorns to be beholden for the
contentment of his life to fraud, or breach of promise.' Then he shows
the difference between injustice, injury, and damage; asserts that
nothing done to a mail with his consent can be injury; and, rejecting
the common mode of distinguishing between _commutative_ and
_distributive_ justice, calls the first the justice of a contractor,
and the other an improper name for just distribution, or the justice of
an arbitrator, _i.e._, the act of defining what is just--equivalent to
equity, which is itself a law of nature.
The rest of the laws follow in swift succession. The 4th recommends
_Gratitude_, which depends on antecedent grace instead of covenant.
Free-gift being voluntary, _i.e._, done with intention of good to one's
self, there will be an end to benevolence and mutual help, unless
gratitude is given as compensation.
The 5th enjoins _Complaisance_; a disposition in men not to seek
superfluities that to others are necessaries. Such men are _sociable_.
The 6th enjoins _Pardon_ upon repentance, with a view (like the last)
to peace.
The 7th enjoins that punishment is to be only for correction of the
offender and direction of others; _i.e._, for profit and example, not
for 'glorying in the hurt of another, tending to no end.' Against
_Cruelty_.
The 8th is against _Contumely_, as provocative of dispeace.
The 9th is against _Pride_, and enjoins the acknowledgment of the
equality of all men by nature. He is here very sarcastic against
Aristotle, and asserts, in opposition to him, that all inequality of
men arises from consent.
The 10th is, in like manner, against _Arrogance_, and in favour of
_Modesty_. Men, in entering into peace, are to reserve no rights but
such as they are willing shall be reserved by others.
The 11th enjoins _Equity_; the disposition, in a man trusted to judge,
to distribute equally to each man what in reason belongs to him.
Partiality 'deters men from the use of judges and arbitrators,' and is
a cause of war.
The 12th enjoins the common, or the proportionable, use of things that
cannot be distributed.
The 13th enjoins the resort to _lot_, when separate or common enjoyment
is not possible; the 14th provides also for _natural_ lot, meaning
first possession or primogeniture.
The 15th demands safe conduct for mediators.
The 16th requires that parties at controversy shall submit their right
to _arbitration_.
The 17th forbids a man to be his own judge; the 18th, any interested
person to be judge.
The 19th requires a resort to witnesses in a matter of fact, as between
two contending parties.
This list of the laws of nature is only slightly varied in the other
works. He enumerates none but those that concern the doctrine of Civil
Society, passing-over things like Intemperance, that are also forbidden
by the law of nature because destructive of particular men. All the
laws are summed up in the one expression: Do not that to another, which
thou wouldest not have done to thyself.
The laws of nature he regards as always binding _in foro interno_, to
the extent of its being desired they should take place; but _in foro
externo_, only when there is security. As binding _in foro interno_,
they can be broken even by an act according with them, if the purpose
of it was against them. They are immutable and eternal; 'injustice,
ingratitude, &c., can never be made lawful,' for war cannot preserve
life, nor peace destroy it. Their fulfilment is easy, as requiring only
an unfeigned and constant endeavour.
Of these laws the science is true moral philosophy, _i.e._, the science
of good and evil in the society of mankind. Good and evil vary much
from man to man, and even in the same man; but while private appetite
is the measure of good and evil in the condition of nature, all allow
that peace is good, and that justice, gratitude, _&c._, as the way or
means to peace, are also good, that is to say, _moral virtues_. The
true moral philosophy, in regarding them as laws of nature, places
their goodness in their being the means of peaceable, comfortable, and
sociable living; not, as is commonly done, in a mediocrity of passions,
'as if not the cause, but the degree of daring, made fortitude.'
His last remark is, that these dictates of reason are improperly called
laws, because 'law, properly, is the word of him that by right hath
command over others.' But when considered not as mere conclusions or
theorems concerning the means of conservation and defence, but as
delivered in the word of God, that by right commands all, then they are
properly called laws.
Chapter XVI., closing the whole first part of the Leviathan, is of
Persons, Authors, and Things Personated. The definitions and
distinctions contained in it add nothing of direct ethical importance
to the foregoing, though needed for the discussion of 'Commonwealth,'
to which he passes. The chief points under this second great head are
taken into the summary.
The views of Hobbes can be only inadequately summarized.
I.--The Standard, to men living in society, is the Law of the State.
This is Self-interest or individual Utility, masked as regard for
Established Order; for, as he holds, under any kind of government there
is more Security and Commodity of life than in the State of Nature. In
the Natural Condition, Self-interest, of course, is the Standard; but
not without responsibility to God, in case it is not sought, as far as
other men will allow, by the practice of the dictates of Reason or laws
of Nature.
II.--His Psychology of Ethics is to be studied in the detail. Whether
in the natural or in the social state, the Moral Faculty, to correspond
with the Standard, is the general power of Reason, comprehending the
aims of the Individual or Society, and attending to the laws of Nature
or the laws of the State, in the one case or in the other respectively.
On the question of the Will, his views have been given at length.
Disinterested Sentiment is, in origin, self-regarding; for, pitying
others, we imagine the like calamity befalling ourselves. In one place,
he seems to say, that the Sentiment of Power is also involved. It is
the great defect of his system that he takes so little account of the
Social affections, whether natural or acquired.
III.--His Theory of Happiness, or the Summum Bonum, would follow from
his analysis of the Feelings and Will. But Felicity being a continual
progress in desire, and consisting less in present enjoyment than in
_assuring_ the way of future desire, the chief element in it is the
Sense of Power.
IV.--A Moral Code is minutely detailed under the name of Laws of
Nature, in force in the Natural State under Divine Sanction. It
inculcates all the common virtues, and makes little or no departure
from the usually received maxims.
V.--The relation of Ethics to Politics is the closest imaginable. Not
even Society, as commonly understood, but only the established civil
authority, is the source of rules of conduct. In the _civil_ (which to
Hobbes is the only meaning of the _social_) state, the laws of nature
are superseded, by being supposed taken up into, the laws of the
Sovereign Power.
VI.--As regards Religion, he affirms the coincidence of his reasoned
deduction of the laws of Nature with the precepts of Revelation. He
makes a mild use of the sanctions of a Future Life to enforce the laws
of Nature, and to give additional support to the commands of the
sovereign that take the place of these in the social state.
Among the numberless replies, called forth by the bold speculations of
Hobbes, were some works of independent ethical importance; in
particular, the treatises of Cumberland, Cudworth, and Clarke.
Cumberland stands by himself; Cudworth and Clarke, agreeing in some
respects, are commonly called the _Rational_ moralists, along with
Wollaston and Price (who fall to be noticed later).
RICHARD CUMBERLAND. [1632-1718.]
Cumberland's' Latin work, _De Legibus Naturae, disquisitio philosophica
contra Hobbium instituta_, appeared in 1672. The book is important as a
distinctly philosophical disquisition, but its extraordinarily
discursive character renders impossible anything like analysis. His
chief points will be presented in a fuller summary than usual.
I.--The STANDARD of Moral Good is given in the laws of Nature, which
may all be summed up in one great Law--_Benevolence to all rational
agents_ or the endeavour to the utmost of our power to promote the
common good of all. His theory is hardly to be distinguished from the
Greatest Happiness principle; unless it might be represented as putting
forward still more prominently the search for Individual Happiness,
with a fixed assumption that this is best secured through the promotion
of the general good. No action, he declares, can be called 'morally
good that does not in its own nature contribute somewhat to the
happiness of men.' The speciality of his view is his professing not to
make an induction as regards the character of actions from the
observation of their effects, but to deduce the propriety of
(benevolent) actions from, the consideration of the character and
position of rational agents in nature. Rules of conduct, all directed
to the promotion of the Happiness of rational agents, may thus be found
in the form of propositions impressed upon the mind by the Nature of
Things; and these are then interpreted to be laws of Nature (summed up
in the one great Law), promulgated by God with the natural effects of
actions as Sanctions of Reward and Punishment to enforce them.
II.--His Psychology of Ethics may be reduced to the following heads.
1. The Faculty is the Reason, apprehending the exact Nature of Things,
and determining accordingly the modes of action that are best suited to
promote the happiness of rational agents.
2. Of the Faculty, under the name of _Conscience_, he gives this
description: 'The mind is conscious to itself of all its own actions,
and both can, and often does, observe what counsels produced them; it
naturally sits a judge upon its own actions, and thence procures to
itself either tranquillity and joy, or anxiety and sorrow.' The
principal design of his whole book is to show 'how this power of the
mind, either by itself, or excited by external objects, forms certain
universal practical propositions, which give us a more distinct idea of
the happiness of mankind, and pronounces by what actions of ours, in
all variety of circumstances, that happiness may most effectually be
obtained.' [Conscience is thus only Reason, or the knowing faculty in
general, as specially concerned about actions in their effect upon
happiness; it rarely takes the place of the more general term.]
3. He expressly leaves aside the supposition that we have _innate
ideas_ of the laws of Nature whereby conduct is to be guided, or of the
matters that they are conversant about. He has not, he says, been so
happy as to learn the laws of Nature by so short a way, and thinks it
ill-advised to build the doctrine of natural religion and morality upon
a hypothesis that has been rejected by the generality of philosophers,
as well heathen as Christian, and can never be proved against the
Epicureans, with whom lies his chief controversy. Yet he declines to
oppose the doctrine of innate ideas, because it looks with a friendly
eye upon piety and morality; and perhaps it may be the case, that such
ideas are _both_ born with us and afterwards impressed upon us from
without.
4. Will, he defines as 'the consent of the mind with the judgment of
the understanding, concerning things agreeing among themselves.'
Although, therefore, he supposes that nothing but Good and Evil can
determine the will, and that the will is even _necessarily_ determined
to seek the one and flee the other, he escapes the conclusion that the
will is moved only by private good, by accepting the implication of
private with common good as the fixed judgment of the understanding or
right reason.
5. He argues against the resolution of all Benevolence into
self-seeking, and thus claims for man a principle of disinterested
action. But what he is far more concerned to prove is, that benevolence
of all to all accords best with the whole frame of nature, stands forth
with perfect evidence, upon a rational apprehension of the universe, as
the great Law of Nature, and is the most effectual means of promoting
the happiness of individuals, viz., through the happiness of all.
III.--Happiness is given as connected with the most full and constant
exercise of all our powers, about the best and greatest objects and
effects that are adequate and proportional to them; as consisting in
the enlargement or perfection of the faculties of any one thing or
several. Here, and in his protest against Hobbes's taking affection and
desire, instead of Reason, as the measure of the goodness of things,
may be seen in what way he passes from the conception of Individual, to
the notion of Common Good, as the end of action. Reason affirms the
common good to be more essentially connected with the perfection of man
than any pursuit of private advantage. Still there is no disposition in
him to sacrifice private to the common good: he declares that no man is
called on to promote the common good beyond his ability, and attaches
no meaning to the general good beyond the special good of _all_ the
particular rational agents in their respective places, from God (to
whom he ventures to ascribe a Tranquillity, Joy, or Complacency)
downwards. The happiness of men he considers as _Internal_, arising
_immediately_ from the vigorous exercise of the faculties about their
proper and noblest objects; and _External_, the _mediate_ advantages
procurable from God and men by a course of benevolent action.
IV.--His Moral Code is arrived at by a somewhat elaborate deduction
from the great Law of Nature enjoining Benevolence or Promotion of the
Common Good of all rational beings.
This Common Good comprehends the Honour of God, and the Good or
Happiness of Men, as Nations, Families, and Individuals.
The actions that promote this Common Good, are Acts either of the
understanding, or of the will and affections, or of the body as
determined by the will. From this he finds that _Prudence_ (including
Constancy of Mind and Moderation) is enjoined in the Understanding,
and, in the Will, _Universal Benevolence_ (making, with Prudence,
_Equity_), _Government of the Passions_, and the Special Laws of
Nature--_Innocence, Self-denial, Gratitude, &c._
This he gets from the consideration of what is contained in the general
Law of Nature. But the obligation to the various moral virtues does not
appear, until he has shown that the Law of Nature, for procuring the
Common Happiness of all, suggests a natural law of _Universal Justice_,
commanding to make and preserve a _division_ of Rights, _i.e._, giving
to particular persons Property or Dominion over things and persons
necessary to their Happiness. There are thus Rights of God (to Honour,
Glory, &c.) and Rights of Men (to have those advantages continued to
them whereby they may preserve and perfect themselves, and be useful to
all others).
For the same reason that _Rights_ of particular persons are fixed and
preserved, viz., that the common good of all should be promoted by
every one,--two _Obligations_ are laid upon all.
(1) Of GIVING: We are to contribute to others such a share of the
things committed to our trust, as may not destroy the part that is
necessary to our own happiness. Hence are obligatory the virtues (_a_)
in regard to Gifts, _Liberality, Generosity, Compassion, &c._; (_b_) in
regard to Common Conversation or Intercourse, _Gravity and
Courteousness, Veracity, Faith, Urbanity, &c._
(2) Of RECEIVING: We are to reserve to ourselves such use of our own,
as may be most advantageous to, or at least consistent with, the good
of others. Hence the obligation or the virtues pertaining to the
various branches of a limited Self-Love, (_a_) with regard to our
_essential parts_, viz., Mind and Body--_Temperance_ in the natural
desires concerned in the preservation of the individual and the
species; (_b_) with regard to _goods of fortune--Modesty, Humility, and
Magnanimity_.
V.--He connects Politics with Ethics, by finding, in the establishment
of civil government, a more effectual means of promoting the common
happiness according to the Law of Nature, than in any equal division of
things. But the Law of Nature, he declares, being before the civil
laws, and containing the ground of their obligation, can never be
superseded by these. Practically, however, the difference between him
and Hobbes comes to very little; he recognizes no kind of earthly check
upon the action of the civil power.
VI.--With reference to Religion, he professes to abstain entirely from
theological questions, and does abstain from mixing up the doctrines of
Revelation. But he attaches a distinctly divine authority to his moral
rules, and supplements earthly by supernatural sanctions.
RALPH CUDWORTH. [1617-88.]
Cudworth's _Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality_, did
not appear until 1731, more than forty years after his death. Having in
a former work ('Intellectual system of the Universe') contended against
the 'Atheistical Fate' of Epicurus and others, he here attacks the
'Theologick Fate' (the arbitrarily omnipotent Deity) of Hobbes,
charging him with reviving exploded opinions of Protagoras and the
ancient Greeks, that take away the essential and eternal discrimination
of moral good and evil, of just and unjust.
After piling up, out of the store of his classical and scholastic
erudition, a great mass of testimony regarding all who had ever founded
distinctions of Right and Wrong upon mere arbitrary disposition,
whether of God or the State of men in general, he shadows forth his own
view. Moral Good and Evil, Just and Unjust, Honest and Dishonest (if
they be not mere names without any signification, or names for nothing
else but _Willed_ or _Commanded_, but have a reality in respect of the
persons obliged to do and to avoid them), cannot possibly be arbitrary
things, made by Will without nature; because it is universally true
that Things are what they are not by Will, but by nature. As it is the
nature of a triangle to have three angles equal to two right angles, so
it is the nature of 'good things' to have the nature of goodness, and
things just the nature of justice; and Omnipotence is no more able to
make a thing good without the fixed nature of goodness, than to make a
triangular body without the properties of a triangle, or two things
like or equal, without the natures of Likeness and Equality. The Will
of God is the supreme _efficient_ cause of all things, but not the
_formal_ cause of anything besides itself. Nor is this to be understood
as at all derogating from God's perfection; to make natural justice and
right independent of his will is merely to set his Wisdom, which is a
rule or measure, above his Will, which is something indeterminate, but
essentially regulable and measureable; and if it be the case that above
even his wisdom, and determining it in turn, stands his Infinite
Goodness, the greatest perfection of his will must lie in its being
thus twice determined.
By far the largest part of Cudworth's treatise consists of a general
metaphysical argument to establish the independence of the mind's
faculty of Knowledge, with reference to Sense and Experience. In Sense,
according to the doctrine of the old 'Atomical philosophy' (of
Democritus, Protagoras, &c.--but he thinks it must be referred back to
Moses himself!), he sees nothing but _fancies_ excited in us by local
motions in the organs, taken on from 'the motion of particles' that
constitute 'the whole world.' All the more, therefore, must there exist
a superior power of Intellection and Knowledge of a different nature
from sense, a power not terminating in mere seeming and appearance
only, but in the reality of things, and reaching to the comprehension
of what really and absolutely is; whose objects are the immutable and
eternal essences and natures of things, and their unchangeable
relations to one another. These _Rationes_ or Verities of things are
_intelligible_. only; are all comprehended in the eternal mind or
intellect of the Deity, and from Him derived to our 'particular
intellects.' They are neither arbitrary nor phantastical--neither
alterable by Will nor changeable by Opinion.
Such eternal and immutable Verities, then, the moral distinctions of
Good and Evil are, in the pauses of the general argument, declared to
be. They, 'as they must have some certain natures which are the actions
or souls of men,' are unalterable by Will or Opinion. 'Modifications of
Mind and Intellect,' they are as much more real and substantial things
than Hard, Soft, Hot, and Cold, modifications of mere senseless
matter--and even so, on the principles of the atomical philosophy,
dependent on the soul for their existence--as Mind itself stands prior
in the order of nature to Matter. In the mind they are as
'anticipations of morality' springing up, not indeed 'from certain
rules or propositions arbitrarily printed on the soul as on a book,'
but from some more inward and vital Principle in intellectual beings,
as such whereby these have within themselves a natural determination to
do some things and to avoid others.
The only other ethical determinations made by Cudworth may thus be
summarized:--Things called _naturally_ Good and Due are such as _the
intellectual nature_ obliges to immediately, absolutely, and
perpetually, and upon no condition of any voluntary action done or
omitted intervening; things _positively_ Good and Due are such as are
in themselves indifferent, but the intellectual nature obliges to them
accidentally or hypothetically, upon condition, in the case of a
command, of some voluntary act of another person invested with lawful
authority, or of one's self, in the case of a specific promise. In a
positive command (as of the civil ruler), what _obliges_ is only the
intellectual nature of him that is commanded, in that he recognizes the
lawful authority of him that commands, and so far determines and
modifies his general duty of obedience as to do an action immaterial in
itself for the sake of the formality of yielding obedience to lawfully
constituted authority. So, in like manner, a specific promise, in
itself immaterial and not enjoined by natural justice, is to be kept
for the sake of the formality of keeping faith, which _is_ enjoined.
Cudworth's work, in which these are nearly all the ethical allusions,
gives no scope for a summary under the various topics.
I.--Specially excluding any such External _Standard_ of moral Good as
the arbitrary Will, either of God or the Sovereign, he views it as a
simple ultimate natural quality of actions or dispositions, as included
among the verities of things, by the side of which the phenomena of
Sense are unreal.
II.--The general Intellectual Faculty cognizes the moral verities,
which it contains within itself and brings rather than finds.
III.--He does not touch upon Happiness; probably he would lean to
asceticism. He sets up no moral code.
IV.--Obligation to the Positive Civil Laws in matters indifferent
follows from the intellectual recognition of the established relation
between ruler and subject.
V.--Morality is not dependent upon the Deity in any other sense than
the whole frame of things is.
SAMUEL CLARKE. [1675-1729.]
Clarke put together his two series of Boyle Lectures (preached 1704 and
1705) as 'A Discourse, concerning the Being and Attributes of God, the
Obligations of Natural Religion and the Truth and Certainty of the
Christian Revelation,' in answer to Hobbes, Spinoza, &c. The burden of
the ethical discussion falls under the head of the Obligations of
Natural Religion, in the second series.
He enounces this all-comprehensive proposition: 'The same necessary and
eternal different Relations that different Things bear one to another,
and the same consequent Fitness or Unfitness of the application of
different things or different relations one to another, with regard to
which the will of God always and necessarily does determine itself to
choose to act only what is agreeable to Justice, Equity, Goodness, and
Truth, in order to the welfare of the whole universe--ought likewise
constantly to determine the Wills of all subordinate rational beings,
to govern all their actions by the same rules, for the good of the
public, in their respective stations. That is, these eternal and
necessary differences of things make it fit and reasonable for
creatures so to act; they cause it to be their duty, or lay an
obligation on them so to do; even separate from the consideration of
these Rules being the positive Will or Command of God, and also
antecedent to any respect or regard, expectation or apprehension of any
particular private and personal Advantage or Disadvantage, Reward or
Punishment, either present or future, annexed either by natural
consequence, or by positive appointment, to the practising or
neglecting of these rules. In the explication of this, nearly his whole
system is contained.
His first concern is to impress the fact that there are necessary and
eternal differences of ail things, and implied or consequent relations
(proportions or disproportions) existing amongst them; and to bring
under this general head the special case of differences of Persons
(e.g., God and Man, Man and Fellow-man), for the sake of the
implication that to different persons there belong peculiar _Fitnesses_
and _Unfitnesses_ of circumstances; or, which is the same thing, that
there arises necessarily amongst them a suitableness or unsuitableness
of certain manners of Behaviour. The counter-proposition that he
contends against is, that the relations among persons depend upon
_positive constitution_ of some kind, instead of being founded
unchangeably in _the nature and reason of things_.
Next he shows how, in the rational or intellectual recognition of
naturally existent relations amongst things (he always means persons
chiefly), there is contained an obligation. When God, in his
Omniscience and absolute freedom from error, is found determining his
Will always according to this eternal reason of things, it is very
unreasonable and blameworthy in the intelligent creatures whom he has
made so far like himself, not to govern their actions by the same
eternal rule of Reason, but to suffer themselves to depart from it
through negligent _misunderstanding_ or wilful _passion_. Herein lies
obligation: a man _ought_ to act according to the Law of Reason,
because he can as little refrain from _assenting_ to the reasonableness
and fitness of guiding his actions by it, as refuse his assent to a
geometrical demonstration when he understands the terms. The original
obligation of all is the eternal Reason of Things; the sanction of
Rewards and Punishments (though 'truly the most effectual means of
keeping creatures in their duty') is only a secondary and additional
obligation. Proof of his position he finds in men's judgment of their
own actions, better still in their judgments of others' actions, best
of all in their judgment of injuries inflicted on themselves. Nor does
any objection hold from the ignorance of savages in matters of
morality: they are equally ignorant of the plainest mathematical
truths; the need of instruction does not take away the necessary
difference of moral Good and Evil, any more than it takes away the
necessary proportions of numbers. He, then, instead of deducing all our
several duties as he might, contents himself with mentioning the three
great branches of them, (_a_) Duties in respect of _God_, consisting of
sentiments and acts (Veneration, Love, Worship, &c.) called forth by
the consideration of his attributes, and having a character of Fitness
far beyond any that is visible in applying _equal_ geometrical figures
to one another, (_b_) Duties in respect of our _Fellow-creatures:_ (1)
Justice and Equity, the doing as we would be done by. Iniquity is the
very same in Action, as Falsity or Contradiction in Theory; what makes
the one _absurd_ makes the other _unreasonable_; 'it would be
impossible for men not to be as much (!) ashamed of _doing Iniquity_,
as they are of _believing Contradictions_;' (2) _Universal Love or
Benevolence_, the promoting the welfare or happiness of all, which is
obligatory on various grounds: the Good being the fit and reasonable,
the greatest Good is the _most_ fit and reasonable; by this God's
action is determined, and so ought ours; no Duty affords a more ample
pleasure; besides having a 'certain natural affection' for those most
closely connected with us, we desire to multiply affinities, which
means to found society, for the sake of the more comfortable life that
mutual good offices bring. [This is a very confused deduction of an
_obligation_.'] (c) Duties in respect to our _Selves_, viz.,
_self-preservation, temperance, contentment, &c._; for not being
authors of our being, we have no just power or authority to take it
away directly, or, by abuse of our faculties, indirectly.
After expatiating in a rhetorical strain on the eternal, universal, and
absolutely unchangeable character of the law of Nature or Right Reason,
he specifies the sense wherein the eternal moral obligations are
independent of the will of God himself; it comes to this, that,
although God makes all things and the relations between them, nothing
is holy and good because he commands it, but he commands it because it
is holy and good. Finally, he expounds the relation of Reward and
Punishment to the law of Nature; the obligation of it is before and
distinct from these; but, while full of admiration for the Stoical idea
of the self-sufficiency of virtue, he is constrained to add that 'men
never will generally, and indeed 'tis not very reasonably to be
expected they should, part with all the comforts of life, and even life
itself, without any expectation of a future recompense.' The 'manifold
absurdities' of Hobbes being first exposed, he accordingly returns, in
pursuance of the theological argument of his Lectures, to show that the
eternal moral obligations, founded on the natural differences of
things, are at the same time the express will and command of God to all
rational creatures, and must necessarily and certainly be attended with
Rewards and Punishments in a future state.
The summary of Clarke's views might stand thus:--
I.--The STANDARD is a certain Fitness of action between persons,
implicated in their nature as much as any fixed proportions between
numbers or other relation among things. Except in such an expression as
this, moral good admits of no kind of external reference.
II.--There is very little Psychology involved. The Faculty is the
Reason; its action a case of mere intellectual apprehension. The
element of Feeling is nearly excluded. Disinterested sentiment is so
minor a point as to call forth only the passing allusion to 'a certain
natural affection.'
III.--Happiness is not considered except in a vague reference to good
public and private as involved with Fit and Unfit action.
IV.--His account of Duties is remarkable only for the consistency of
his attempt to find parallels for each amongst intellectual relations.
The climax intended in the assimilation of Injustice to Contradictions
is a very anti-climax; if people were only '_as much_' ashamed of doing
injustice as of believing contradictions, the moral order of the world
would be poorly provided for.
V.--The relation of Ethics to Politics is hardly touched. Society is
born of the desire to multiply affinities through mutual interchange of
good offices.
VI.--His Ethical disquisition is only part of a Theological argument;
and this helps to explain his assertion of the Independence as well as
of the Insufficiency of Morality. The final outcome of the discussion
is that Morality needs the support of Revelation. But, to get from this
an argument for the truth of Revelation, it is necessary that morality
should have an independent foundation in the nature of things, apart
from any direct divine appointment.
WILLIAM WOLLASTON (1659-1724), author of the 'Religion of Nature
Delineated,' is usually put into the same class of moralists with
Clarke. With him, a _bad_ action (whether of commission or omission)
contains the denial of a true proposition. Truth can be denied by
actions as well as by words. Thus, the violation of a contract is the
denial by an action that the contract has been concluded. Robbing a
traveller is the denial that what you take from him is his. An action
that denies one or more true propositions cannot be good, and is
necessarily bad. A _good_ action is one whose omission would be bad or
whose contrary is bad, in the above sense. An _indifferent_ action is
one that can be omitted or done without contradicting any truth.
Reason, the judge of what is true and false, is the only faculty
concerned; but, at the same time, Wollaston makes large reference to
the subject of Happiness, finding it to consist in an excess of
pleasures as compared with pains. He holds that his doctrine is in
conformity with all the facts. It affirms a progressive morality, that
keeps pace with and depend upon the progress of Science. It can explain
_errors_ in morals as distinct from vice. An error is the affirmation
by an action of a false proposition, thought to be true; the action is
bad, but the agent is innocent.
JOHN LOCKE. [1632-1704.]
Locke did not apply himself to the consecutive evolution of an Ethical
theory; whence his views, although on the whole sufficiently
unmistakeable, are not always reconcileable with one another.
In Book I. of the 'Essay on the Understanding' he devotes himself to
the refutation of Innate Ideas, whether Speculative or Practical. Chap.
III. is on the alleged Innate Practical Principles, or rules of Right
and Wrong. The objections urged against these Principles have scarcely
been added to, and have never been answered. We shall endeavour to
indicate the heads of the reasoning.
1. The Innate Practical Principles are for the most part not
self-evident; they are, in this respect, not on an equal footing with
the Speculative Principles whose innate origin is also disputed. They
require reasoning and explanation in order to be understood. Many men
are ignorant of them, while others assent to them slowly, if they do
assent to them; all which is at variance with their being innate.
2. There is no Practical Principle universally received among mankind.
All that can be said of Justice is that _most men_ agree to recognize
it. It is vain to allege of confederacies of thieves, that they keep
faith with one another; for this keeping of faith is merely for their
own convenience. We cannot call that a sense of Justice which merely
binds a man to a certain number of his fellow-criminals, in order the
more effectually to plunder and kill honest men. Instead of Justice, it
is the essential condition of success in Injustice.
If it be said in reply, that these men tacitly assent in their minds to
what their practice contradicts, Locke answers, first, that men's
actions must be held as the best interpreters of their thoughts; and if
many men's practices, and some men's open professions, have been
opposed to these principles, we cannot conclude them to be Innate.
Secondly, It is difficult for us to assent to Innate Practical
Principles, ending only in contemplation. Such principles either
influence our conduct, or they are nothing. There is no mistake as to
the Innate principles of the desire of happiness, and aversion to
misery; these do not stop short in tacit assent, but urge every man's
conduct every hour of his life. If there were anything corresponding to
these in the sense of Right and Wrong, we should have no dispute about
them.
3. There is no Moral rule, that may not have a reason demanded for it;
which ought not to be the case with any innate principle. That we
should do as we would be done by, is the foundation of all morality,
and yet, if proposed to any one for the first time, might not such an
one, without absurdity, ask a reason why? But this would imply that
there is some deeper principle for it to repose upon, capable of being
assigned as its motive; that it is not ultimate, and therefore not
innate. That men should observe compacts is a great and undeniable
rule, yet, in this, a Christian would give as reason the command of
God; a Hobbist would say that the public requires it, and would punish
for disobeying it; and an old heathen philosopher would have urged that
it was opposed to human virtue and perfection.
Bound up with this consideration, is the circumstance that moral rules
differ among men, according to their views of happiness. The existence
of God, and our obedience to him, are manifest in many ways, and are
the true ground of morality, seeing that only God can call to account
every offender; yet, from the union of virtue and public happiness, all
men have recommended the practice of what is for their own obvious
advantage. There is quite enough in this self-interest to cause moral
rules to be enforced by men that care neither for the supreme Lawgiver,
nor for the Hell ordained by him to punish transgressors.
After all, these great principles of morality are more commended than
practised. As to Conscience checking us in these breaches, making them
fewer than they would otherwise be, men may arrive at such a
conscience, or self-restraining sentiment, in other ways than by an
innate endowment. Some men may come to assent to moral rules from a
knowledge of their value as means to ends. Others may take up the same
view as a part of their education. However the persuasion is come by,
it will serve as a conscience; which conscience is nothing else than
our own opinion of the rectitude or pravity of our actions.
How could men with serenity and confidence transgress rules stamped
upon their inmost soul? Look at the practices of nations civilized and
uncivilized; at the robberies, murders, rapes of an army sacking a
town; at the legalized usages of nations, the destruction of infants
and of aged parents for personal convenience; cannibalism; the most
monstrous forms of unchastity; the fashionable murder named Duelling.
Where are the innate principles of Justice, Piety, Gratitude, Equity,
Chastity?
If we read History, and cast our glance over the world, we shall
scarcely find any rule of Morality (excepting such as are necessary to
hold society together, and these too with great limitations) but what
is somewhere or other set aside, and an opposite established, by whole
societies of men. Men may break a law without disowning it; but it is
inconceivable that a whole nation should publicly reject and renounce
what every one of them, certainly and infallibly, knows to be a law.
Whatever practical principle is innate, must be known to every one to
be just and good. The generally allowed breach of any rule anywhere
must be held to prove that it is not innate. If there be any rule
having a fair claim to be imprinted by nature, it is the rule that
Parents should preserve and cherish their children. If such a principle
be innate, it must be found regulating practice everywhere; or, at the
lowest, it must be known and assented to. But it is very far from
having been uniformly practised, even among enlightened nations. And as
to its being an innate truth, known to all men, that also is untrue.
Indeed, the terms of it are not intelligible without other knowledge.
The statement, 'it is the duty of parents to preserve their children,'
cannot be understood without a Law; a Law requires a Lawmaker, and
Reward or Punishment. And as punishment does not always follow in this
life, nothing less than a recognition of Divine Law will suffice; in
other words, there must be intuitions of God, Law, Obligation,
Punishment, and a Future Life: every one of which may be, and is,
deemed to be innate.
It is incredible that men, if all these things were stamped on their
minds, could deliberately offend against them; still more, that rulers
should silently connive at such transgressions.
4. The supporters of innate principles are unable to point out
distinctly what they are.[18] Yet, if these were imprinted on the mind,
there could be no more doubt about them than about the number of our
fingers. We well know that, if men of different sects were to write out
their respective lists, they would set down exactly such as suited
their several schools or churches.
There is, Locke remarks, a ready, but not very material, answer to his
objections, namely, that the innate principles may, by Education and
Custom, be darkened and worn out of men's minds. But this takes away at
once the argument from universal consent, and leaves nothing but what
each party thinks should pass for universal consent, namely, their own
private persuasion: a method whereby a set of men presuming themselves
to be the only masters of right reason, put aside the votes and
opinions of the rest of mankind. Thus, notwithstanding the innate
light, we are as much in the dark as if it did not exist; a rule that
will warp any way is not to be distinguished amidst its contraries. If
these rules are so liable to vary, through adventitious notions, we
should find them clearest in children and in persons wholly illiterate.
He grants that there are many opinions, received by men of different
countries, educations, and tempers, and held as unquestionable first
principles; but then the absurdity of some, and the mutual
contradiction of others, make it impossible that they should be all
true. Yet it will often happen that these men will sooner part with
their lives, than suffer the truth of their opinions to be questioned.
We can see from our experience how the belief in principles grows up.
Doctrines, with no better original than the superstition of a nurse, or
the authority of an old woman, may in course of time, and by the
concurrence of neighbours, grow up to the dignity of first truths in
Religion and in Morality. Persons matured under those influences, and,
looking into their own minds, find nothing anterior to the opinions
taught them before they kept a record of themselves; they, therefore,
without scruple, conclude that those propositions whose origin they
cannot trace are the impress of God and nature upon their minds. Such a
result is unavoidable in the circumstances of the bulk of mankind, who
require some foundation of principles to rest upon, and have no means
of obtaining them but on trust from others. _Custom is it greater power
than Nature_, and, while we are yet young, seldom fails to make us
worship as divine what she has inured us to; nor is it to be wondered
at, that, when we come to mature life, and are engrossed with quite
different matters, we are indisposed to sit down and examine all our
received tenets, to find ourselves in the wrong, to run counter to the
opinions of our country or party, and to be branded with such epithets
as whimsical, sceptical, Atheist. It is inevitable that we should take
up at first borrowed principles; and unless we have all the faculties
and the means of searching into their foundations, we naturally go on
to the end as we have begun.
In the following chapter (IV.), he argues the general question of
Innate Ideas in the case of the Idea of God.
In Book II., Chap. XXI., Locke discusses the freedom of the will, with
some allusions to the nature of happiness and the causes of wrong
conduct. Happiness is the utmost pleasure we are capable of, misery the
utmost pain; pleasure and pain define Good and Evil. In practice, we
are chiefly occupied in getting rid of troubles; absent good does not
much move us. All uneasiness being removed, a moderate portion of good
contents us; and some few degrees of pleasure in a succession of
ordinary enjoyments are enough to make happiness. [Epicurus, and others
among the ancients, said as much.]
Men have wrong desires, and do wrong acts, but it is from wrong
judgments. They never mistake a present pleasure or pain; they always
act correctly upon that. They are the victims of deceitful appearances;
they make wrong judgments in comparing present with future pains, such
is the weakness of the mind's constitution in this department. Our
wrong judgments proceed partly from ignorance and partly from
inadvertence, and our preference of vice to virtue is accounted for by
these wrong judgments.
Chap. XXVIII. discusses Moral Relations. Good and Evil are nothing but
Pleasure and Pain, and what causes them. Moral Good or Evil is the
conformity or unconformity of our voluntary actions to some Law,
entailing upon us good or evil by the will and power of the Law-giver,
to which good and evil we apply the names Reward and Punishment.
There are three sorts of Moral Rules: 1st, The Divine Law, whether
promulgated by the Light of Nature or by Revelation, and enforced by
rewards and punishments in a future life. This law, when ascertained,
is the touchstone of moral rectitude. 2nd, The Civil Law, or the Law of
the State, supported by the penalties of the civil judge. 3rd, The Law
of Opinion or Reputation. Even after resigning, to public authority,
the disposal of the public force, men still retain the power of
privately approving or disapproving actions, according to their views
of virtue and vice. The being commended or dispraised by our fellows
may thus be called the sanction of Reputation, a power often surpassing
in efficacy both the other sanctions.
Morality is the reference of all actions to one or other of these three
Laws. Instead of applying innate notions of good and evil, the mind,
having been taught the several rules enjoined by these authorities,
compares any given action with these rules, and pronounces accordingly.
A rule is an aggregate of simple Ideas; so is an action; and the
conformity required is the ordering of the action so that the simple
ideas belonging to it may correspond to those required by the law.
Thus, all Moral Notions may be reduced to the simple ideas gained by
the two leading sources--Sensation and Reflection. Murder is an
aggregate of simple ideas, traceable in the detail to these sources.
The summary of Locke's views is as follows:--
I.--With reference to the Standard of Morality, we have these two great
positions--
First, That the production of pleasure and pain to sentient beings is
the ultimate foundation of moral good and evil.
Secondly, That morality is a system of Law, enacted by one or other of
three different authorities.
II.--In the Psychology of Ethics, Locke, by implication, holds--
First, That there is no innate moral sentiment; that our moral ideas
are the generalities of moral actions. That our faculties of moral
discernment are--(1) those that discern the pleasures and pains of
mankind; and (2), those that comprehend and interpret the laws of God,
the Nation, and Public Opinion. And (3) he counts that the largest
share in the formation of our Moral Sentiments is due to Education and
Custom.
[We have seen his views on Free-will, p. 413.]
As regards the nature of Disinterested Action, he pronounces no
definite opinion. He makes few attempts to analyze the emotional and
active part of our nature.
III.--His Summum Bonum is stated generally as the procuring of Pleasure
and the avoiding of Pain.
IV.--He has no peculiar views on the Moral Code, or on the enforcements
of Morality.
V.--The connexion of Ethics with Politics is, in him, the assimilating
of Morality to Law.
VI.--With reference to Theology, he considers that, by the exercise of
the Reason, we may discover the existence and attributes of God, and
our duties to him; his ascertained will is the highest moral rule, the
true touchstone of Moral Rectitude.
JOSEPH BUTLER. [1692-1752.]
Butler's Ethical System may be found--First, in a short Dissertation on
Virtue, appended to the Analogy; secondly, and chiefly, in his first
three Sermons, entitled 'Human Nature;' thirdly, in other Sermons, as
(V.) on Compassion, and (XL) on Benevolence. Various illustrations of
Ethical doctrine are interspersed through the Analogy, as in Part I.,
Chap. 2, entitled 'the government of God by rewards and punishments.'
The Dissertation on Virtue is intended to vindicate, in man, the
existence of a moral nature, apart from both Prudence and Benevolence.
A moral government supposes a moral nature in man, or a power of
distinguishing right from wrong. All men and all systems agree as to
the fact of moral perceptions.
As characteristics of these moral perceptions, it is to be
noted--First, they refer to voluntary actions. Secondly, they are
accompanied with the feelings of good or of ill desert, which good or
ill desert is irrespective of the good of society. Thirdly, the
perception of ill desert has regard to the capacities of the agent.
Fourthly, Prudence, or regard to ourselves, is a fair subject of moral
approbation, and imprudence of the contrary. Our own self-interest
seems to require strengthening by other men's manifested pleasure and
displeasure. Still, this position is by no means indisputable, and the
author is willing to give up the words 'virtue' and 'vice,' as
applicable to prudence and folly; and to contend merely that our moral
faculty is not indifferent to this class of actions. Fifthly, Virtue is
not wholly resolvable into Benevolence (that is, the general good, or
Utility[19]). This is shown by the fact that our approbation is not in
proportion to the amount of happiness flowing from an action [he means
_immediately_ flowing, which does not decide the question]. We
disapprove of falsehood, injustice, and unprovoked violence, even
although more happiness would result from them than from the contrary.
Moreover, we are not always judges of the whole consequences of acting.
Undoubtedly, however, benevolence is our duty, if there be no moral
principle to oppose it.
The title 'Human Nature,' given to Butler's chief Ethical exposition,
indicates that he does not take an _a priori_ view of the foundations
of Ethics, like Cudworth and Clarke, but makes them repose on the
constitution of the human mind.
In Sermon first, he lays out the different parts of our Emotional and
Active nature, including Benevolence, Self-love, Conscience. The
recognition of these three as distinct, and mutually irresolvable, is
the Psychological basis of his Ethics.[20]
The existence of pure or disinterested Benevolence is proved by such
facts, as Friendship, Compassion, Parental and Filial affections,
Benevolent impulses to mankind generally. But although the object of
benevolence is the public good, and of self-love private good, yet the
two ultimately coincide. [This questionable assertion must trammel any
proof that the author can give of our possessing purely disinterested
impulses.]
In a long note, he impugns the theory of Hobbes that Benevolent
affection and its pleasures are merely a form of the love of Power. He
maintains, and with reason, that the love of power manifests its
consequences quite as much in cruelty as in benevolence.
The second argument, to show that Benevolence is a fact of our
constitution, involves the greatest peculiarity of Butler's Psychology,
although he was not the first to announce it. The scheme of the human
feelings comprehends, in addition to Benevolence and Self-Love, a
number of passions and affections tending to the same ends as these
(some to the good of our fellows, others to our own good); while in
following them we are not conscious of seeking those ends, but some
different ends. Such are our various Appetites and Passions. Thus,
hunger promotes our private well-being, but in obeying its dictates we
are not thinking of that object, but of the procuring of _food_.
Curiosity promotes both public and private good, but its direct and
immediate object is _knowledge_.
This refined distinction appears first in Aquinas; there is in it a
palpable confusion of ideas. If we regard the final impulse of hunger,
it is not toward the food, but towards the appeasing of a pain and the
gaining of a pleasure, which are certainly identical with self, being
the definition of self in the last resort. We associate the food with
the gratification of these demands, and hence food becomes an end to
us--one of the _associated_ or _intermediate_ ends. So the desire of
knowledge is the desire of the pleasure, or of the relief from pain,
accruing from knowledge; while, as in the case of food, knowledge is to
a great degree only an instrument, and therefore an intermediate and
associated end. So the desire of esteem is the desire of a pleasure, or
else of the instrument of pleasure.
In short, Butler tries, without effect, to evade the general principles
of the will--our being moved exclusively by pleasure and pain. Abundant
reference has been already made to the circumstances that modify in
appearance, or in reality, the operation of this principle. The
distinction between self-love and the particular appetites, passions,
and affections, is mainly the distinction between a great aggregate of
the reason (the total interests of our being) and the separate items
that make it up.
The distinction is intended to prepare the way for the setting forth of
Conscience,[21] which is called a 'principle of reflection in men,
whereby they distinguish between, approve and disapprove, their own
actions.' This principle has for its result the good of society; still,
in following it, we are not conscious of aiming at the good of society.
A father has an affection for his children; this is one thing. He has
also a principle of reflection, that urges him with added force and
with more steady persistency than any affection, which principle must
therefore be different from mere affection.
Butler's analysis of the human feelings is thus: I.--Benevolence and
Self-love. II.--The particular Appetites, Passions, and Affections,
operating in the same direction as Benevolence and Self-love, but
without intending it. III.--Conscience, of which the same is to be
said.
His reply to the objection,--against our being made for
Benevolence,--founded on our mischievous propensities, is, that in the
same way there are tendencies mischievous to ourselves, and yet no one
denies us the possession of self-love. He remarks farther that these
evil tendencies are the abuse of such as are right; ungovernable
passion, reckless pursuit of our own good, and not pure malevolence,
are the causes of injustice and the other vices.
In short, we are made for pursuing both our own good and the good of
others; but present gratifications and passing inclinations interfere
alike with both objects.
Sermons II., III., are meant to establish, from our moral nature, the
Supremacy of Conscience.
Our moral duties may be deduced from the scheme of our nature, which
shows the design of the Deity. There may be some difficulties attending
the deduction, owing to the want of uniformity in the human
constitution. Still, the broad feelings of the mind, and the purpose of
them, can no more be mistaken than the existence and the purpose of the
eyes. It can be made quite apparent that the single principle called
conscience is intended to rule all the rest.
But, as Conscience is only one part of our nature, there being two
other parts, namely, (1) Benevolence and Self-love, and (2) the
particular Appetites and Passions, why are they not all equally
natural, and all equally to be followed?
This leads to an inquiry into the meanings of the word Nature.
First, Nature may mean any prompting whatever; anger and affection are
equally natural, as being equally part of us.
Secondly, it may mean our strongest passion, what most frequently
prevails with us and shows our individual characters. In this sense,
vice may be natural.
But, thirdly, we may reclaim against those two meanings, and that on
the authority both of the Apostle Paul and of the ancient sages, and
declare that the proper meaning of following nature is following
Conscience, or that superior principle in every man which bears
testimony to its own supremacy. It is by this faculty, natural to a
man, that he is a moral agent, a law to himself.
Men may act according to their strongest principle, and yet violate
their nature, as when a man, urged by present gratification, incurs
certain ruin. The violation of nature, in this instance, may be
expressed as _disproportion_.
There is thus a difference in _kind_ between passions; self-love is
superior to temporary appetite.
Passion or Appetite means a tendency towards certain objects with no
regard to any other objects. Reflection or Conscience steps in to
protect the interests that these would lead us to sacrifice. Surely,
therefore, this would be enough to constitute superiority. Any other
passion taking the lead is a case of usurpation.
We can hardly form a notion of Conscience without this idea of
superiority. Had it might, as it has right, it would govern the world.
Were there no such supremacy, all actions would be on an equal footing.
Impiety, profaneness, and blasphemy would be as suitable as reverence;
parricide would justify itself by the right of the strongest.
Hence human nature is made up of a number of propensities in union with
this ruling principle; and as, in civil government, the constitution is
infringed by strength prevailing over authority, so the nature of man
is violated when the lower faculties triumph over conscience. Man has a
rule of right within, if he will honestly attend to it. Out of this
arrangement, also, springs Obligation; the law of conscience is the law
of our nature. It carries its authority with it; it is the guide
assigned by the Author of our nature.
He then replies to the question, 'Why should we be concerned about
anything out of or beyond ourselves?' Supposing we do possess in our
nature a regard to the well-being of others, why may we not set that
aside as being in our way to our own good.
The answer is, We cannot obtain our own good without having regard to
others, and undergoing the restraints prescribed by morality. There is
seldom any inconsistency between our duty and our interest. Self-love,
in the present world, coincides with virtue. If there are any
exceptions, all will be set right in the final distribution of things.
Conscience and self-love, if we understand our true happiness, always
lead us the same way.
Such is a brief outline of the celebrated 'Three Sermons on Human
Nature.' The radical defect of the whole scheme lies in its
Psychological basis. Because we have, as mature human beings, in
civilized society, a principle of action called Conscience, which we
recognize as distinct from Self-love and Benevolence, as well as from
the Appetites and Passions, Butler would make us believe that this is,
from the first, a distinct principle of our nature. The proper reply is
to analyze Conscience; showing at the same time, from its very great
discrepancies in different minds, that it is a growth, or product,
corresponding to the education and the circumstances of each, although
of course involving the common elements of the mind.
In his Sermons on Compassion (V., VI.), he treats this as one of the
Affections in his second group of the Feelings (Appetites, Passions,
and Affections); vindicates its existence against Hobbes, who treated
it as an indirect mode of self-regard; and shows its importance in
human life, as an adjunct to Rational Benevolence and Conscience.
In discussing Benevolence (Sermon XII.) Butler's object is to show that
it is not ultimately at variance with Self-love. In the introductory
observations, he adverts to the historical fact, that vice and folly
take different turns in different ages, and that the peculiarity of his
own age is 'to profess a contracted spirit, and greater regards to
self-interest' than formerly. He accommodates his preaching of virtue
to this characteristic of his time, and promises that _there shall be
all possible concessions made to the favourite passion_.
His mode of arguing is still the same as in the sermons on Human
Nature. Self-love does not comprehend our whole being; it is only one
principle among many. It is characterized by a _subjective_ end, the
_feeling_ of happiness; but we have other ends of the objective kind,
the ends of our appetites, passions, and affections--food, injury to
another, good to another, &c. The total happiness of our being includes
all our ends. Self-love attends only to one interest, and if we are too
engrossed with that, we may sacrifice other interests, and narrow the
sphere of our happiness. A certain disengagement of mind is necessary
to enjoyment, and the intensity of pursuit interferes with this. [This
is a true remark, but misapplied; external pursuit may be so intense as
nearly to do away with subjective consciousness, and therefore with
pleasure; but this applies more to _objective_ ends,--wealth, the
interest of others--than to self-love, which is in its nature
subjective.]
Now, what applies to the Appetites and Affections applies to
Benevolence; it is a distinct motive or urgency, and should have its
scope like every other propensity, in order to happiness.
Such is his reasoning, grounded on his peculiar Psychology. He then
adduces the ordinary arguments to show, that seeking the good of others
is a positive gratification in itself, and fraught with pleasure in its
consequences.
In summary, Butler's views stand thus:--
I.--His Standard of Right and Wrong is the subjective Faculty, called
by him Reflection, or Conscience. He assumes such an amount of
uniformity in human beings, in regard to this Faculty, as to settle all
questions that arise.
II.--His Psychological scheme is the threefold division of the mind
already brought out; Conscience being one division, and a distinct and
primitive element of our constitution.
He has no Psychology of the Will; nor does he anywhere inquire into the
problem of Liberty and Necessity.
He maintains the existence of Disinterested Benevolence, by saying that
Disinterested action, as opposed to direct self-regard, is a much wider
fact of our mental system, than the regard to the welfare of others. We
have seen that this is a mere stroke of ingenuity, and owes its
plausible appearance to his making our associated ends the primary ends
of our being.
III.--With regard to the Summum Bonum, or the theory of Happiness, he
holds that men cannot be happy by the pursuit of mere self; but must
give way to their benevolent impulses as well, all under the guidance
of conscience. In short, virtue is happiness, even in this world; and,
if there be any exception to the rule, it will be rectified in another
world. This is in fact the Platonic view. Men are not to pursue
happiness; that would be to fall into the narrow rut of self-love, and
would be a failure; they are to pursue virtue, including the good of
others, and the greatest happiness will ensue to each.
It is a remarkable indication of the spirit of Butler's age, or of his
estimate of it, that he would never venture to require of any one a
single act of uncompensated self-sacrifice.
IV.--The substance of the Moral Code of Butler is in no respect
peculiar to him. He gives no classification of our duties. His means
and inducements to virtue have just been remarked upon.
V.--The relationship of Ethics to Politics and to Theology needs no
remark.
FRANCIS HUTCHESON. [1694-1747.]
Hutcheson's views are to be found in his 'Inquiry into the Ideas of
Beauty and Virtue,' his 'Treatise on the Passions,' and his posthumous
work, 'A System of Moral Philosophy.' The last-mentioned, as the
completest exposition of his Ethics, Speculative and Practical, is
followed here.
There are three books; the first treating of Human Nature and
Happiness; the second, of Laws of Nature and Duties, previous to Civil
Government and other adventitious states; the third, of Civil Polity.
In Book I., Chap. I., Hutcheson states that the aim of Moral Philosophy
is to point out the course of action that will best promote the highest
happiness and perfection of men, by the light of human nature and to
the exclusion of revelation; thus to indicate the rules of conduct that
make up the Law of Nature. Happiness, the end of this art, being the
state of the mind arising from its several grateful perceptions or
modifications, the natural course of the inquiry is to consider the
various human powers, perceptions, and actions, and then to compare
them so as to find what really constitutes happiness, and how it may be
attained. The principles that first display themselves in childhood are
the external senses, with some small powers of spontaneous motion,
introducing to the mind perceptions of pleasure and pain, which
becoming forthwith the object of desire and aversion, are our first
notions of natural good and evil. Next to Ideas of Sensation, we
acquire Concomitant ideas of Sensation from two or more senses
together--number, extension, &c. Ideas of consciousness or reflection,
which is another natural power of perception, complete the list of the
materials of knowledge; to which, when the powers of judging and
reasoning are added, all the main acts of the understanding are given.
There are still, however, some finer perceptions, that may be left over
until the will is disposed of.
Under the head of Will, he notes first the facts of Desire and
Aversion, being new motions of the soul, distinct from, though arising
out of, sensations, perceptions, and judgments. To these it is common
to add Joy and Sorrow, arising in connexion with desire, though they
partake more of sensations than of volitions. Acts of the will are
_selfish_ or _benevolent_, according as one's own good, or (as often
really in fact happens) the good of others is pursued. Two _calm_
natural determinations of the will are to be conceded; the one an
invariable constant impulse towards one's own highest perfection and
happiness; the other towards the universal happiness of others, when
the whole system of beings is regarded without prejudice, and in the
absence of the notion that their happiness interferes with our own.
There are also _turbulent_ passions and appetites, whose end is their
simple gratification; whereupon the violence and uneasiness cease. Some
are selfish--hunger, lust, power, fame; some benevolent--pity,
gratitude, parental affection, &c.; others may be of either
kind--anger, envy, &c. In none of them is there any reference in the
mind to the greatest happiness of self or others; and that they stand
so often in real opposition to the calm motions, is sufficient proof of
their distinct character, _e.g._, the opposition of lust and calm
regard for one's highest interest.
In Chapter II., he takes up some finer powers of perception, and some
other natural determinations of the will. Bound up with seeing and
hearing are certain other powers of perception or senses--Beauty,
Imitation, Harmony, Design, summed up by Addison under the name of
Imagination, and all natural sources of pleasure. The two grateful
perceptions of Novelty and Grandeur may be added to the list of natural
determinations or senses of pleasure. To attempt to reduce the natural
sense of Beauty to the discernment of real or apparent usefulness is
hopeless. The next sense of the soul noted is the Sympathetic, in its
two Phases of Pity or Compassion and Congratulation. This is
fellow-feeling on apprehending the state of others, and proneness to
relieve, without any thought of our own advantage, as seen in children.
Pity is stronger than congratulation, because, whether for ourselves or
others, the desire to repel evil is stronger than to pursue good.
Sympathy extends to all the affections and passions; it greatly
subserves the grand determination of the soul towards universal
happiness.
Other finer senses have actions of men for their objects, there being a
general determination of the soul to exercise all its active powers,--a
universal impulse to action, bodily and intellectual. In all such
action there is real pleasure, but the grand source of human happiness
is the power of perceiving the _moral_ notions of actions and
characters. This, the _Moral Sense_, falls to be fully discussed later.
Distinct from our moral sense is the _Sense of Honour or Shame_, when
we are praised or condemned by others. The _Sense of Decency or
Dignity_, when the mind perceives excellence of bodily and mental
powers in ourselves or others, is also natural, and distinct from the
moral sense. Some would allow a natural Sense of the Ridiculous in
objects or events. There follow some remarks on the tendency to
associate perceptions. In addition also to the natural propensity
towards action, there is a tendency in repeated action to become Habit,
whereby our powers are greatly increased. Habit and Customs can raise,
however, no new ideas beyond the sentiments naturally excited by the
original actions.
_Sexual_ desire, wisely postponed by nature beyond the earliest years,
does not, in man, end in mere sensual pleasure, but involves a natural
liking of beauty as an indication of temper and manners, whereupon grow
up esteem and love. Mankind have a universal desire of _offspring_, and
love for their young; also an affection, though weaker, for all
blood-relations. They have, further, a natural impulse to _society_
with their fellows, as an immediate principle, and are not driven to
associate only by indigence. All the other principles already
mentioned, having little or no exercise in solitude, would bring them
together, even without family ties. Patriotism and love of country are
acquired in the midst of social order.
_Natural Religion_ inevitably springs up in the best minds at sight of
the benevolent order of the world, and is soon diffused among all. The
principles now enumerated will be found, though in varying proportions,
among all men not plainly monstrous by accident, &c.
Chapter III. treats of the Ultimate Determinations of the Will and
Benevolent Affections. The question now is to find some order and
subordination among the powers that have been cited, and to discover
the ultimate ends of action, about which there is no reasoning. He
notices various systems that make calm self-love the one leading
principle of action, and specially the system that, allowing the
existence of particular disinterested affections, puts the
self-satisfaction felt in yielding to the generous sentiments above all
other kinds of enjoyments. But, he asks, is there not also a _calm
determination_ towards the good of others, without reference to private
interest of any kind? In the case of particular desires, which all
necessarily involve an uneasy sensation until they are gratified, it is
no proof of their being selfish that their gratification gives the joy
of success and stops uneasiness. On the other hand, to desire the
welfare of others in the interest of ourselves is not benevolence nor
virtue. What we have to seek are benevolent affections terminating
ultimately in the good of others, and constituted by nature (either
alone, or mayhap corroborated by some views of interest) 'the immediate
cause of moral approbation.' Now, anything to be had from men could not
raise within us such affections, or make us careful about anything
beyond external deportment. Nor could rewards from God, or the wish for
self-approbation, create such affections, although, on the supposition
of their existence, these may well help to foster them. It is
benevolent _dispositions_ that we morally approve; but dispositions are
not to be raised by will. Moreover, they are often found where there
has been least thought of cultivating them; and, sometimes, in the form
of parental affection, gratitude, &c., they are followed so little for
the sake of honour and reward, that though their absence is condemned,
they are themselves hardly accounted virtuous at all. He then rebuts
the idea that generous affections are selfish, because by _sympathy_ we
make the pleasures and pains of others our own. Sympathy is a real
fact, but has regard only to the distress or suffering beheld or
imagined in others, whereas generous affection is varied toward
different characters. Sympathy can never explain the immediate ardour
of our good-will towards the morally excellent character, or the
eagerness of a dying man for the prosperity of his children and
friends. Having thus accepted the existence of purely disinterested
affections, and divided them as before into calm and turbulent, he puts
the question, Whether is the selfish or benevolent principle to yield
in case of opposition? And although it appears that, as a fact, the
universal happiness is preferred to the individual in the order of the
world by the Deity, this is nothing, unless by some determination of
the soul we are made to comply with the Divine intentions. If by the
desire of reward, it is selfishness still; if by the desire, following
upon the sight, of moral excellence, then there must necessarily exist
as its object some determination of the will involving supreme moral
excellence, otherwise there will be no way of deciding between
particular affections. This leads on to the consideration of the Moral
Faculty.
But, in the beginning of Chapter IV., he first rejects one by one these
various accounts of the reason of our approbation of moral
conduct:--pleasure by sympathy; pleasure through the moral sense;
notion of advantage to the agent, or to the approver, and this direct
or imagined; tendency to procure honour; conformity to law, to truth,
fitness, congruity, &c.; also education, association, &c. He then
asserts a natural and immediate determination in man to approve certain
affections and actions consequent on them; or a natural sense of
immediate excellence in them, not referred to any other quality
perceivable by our other senses, or by reasoning. It is a sense not
dependent on bodily organs, but a settled determination of the soul. It
is a sense, in like manner as, with every one of our powers--voice,
designing, motion, reasoning, there is bound up a taste, sense, or
relish, discerning and recommending their proper exercise; but superior
to all these, because the power of moral action is superior. It can be
trained like any other sense--hearing, harmony, &c.--so as to be
brought to approve finer objects, for instance the general happiness
rather than mere motions of pity. That it is meant to control and
regulate all the other powers is matter of immediate consciousness; we
must ever prefer moral good to the good apprehended by the other
perceptive powers. For while every other good is lessened by the
sacrifices made to gain it, moral good is thereby increased and
relished the more. The _objects_ of moral approbation are primarily
affections of the will, but, all experience shows, only such as tend to
the happiness of others, and the moral perfection of the mind
possessing them. There are, however, many degrees of approbation; and,
when we put aside qualities that approve themselves merely to the sense
of decency or dignity, and also the calm desire of private good, which
is indifferent, being neither virtuous nor vicious, the gradation of
qualities morally approved may be given thus: (1) Dignified abilities
(pursuit of sciences, &c.), showing a taste above sensuality and
selfishness. (2) Qualities immediately connected with virtuous
affections--candour, veracity, fortitude, sense of honour. (3) The kind
affections themselves, and the more as they are fixed rather than
passionate, and extensive rather than narrow; highest of all in the
form of universal good-will to all. (4) The disposition to desire and
love moral excellence, whether observed in ourselves or others--in
short, true piety towards God. He goes on to give a similar scale of
moral turpitude. Again, putting aside the indifferent qualities, and
also those that merely make people despicable and prove them
insensible, he cites--(1) the gratification of a narrow kind of
affection when the public good might have been served. (2) Acts
detrimental to the public, done under fear of personal ill, or great
temptation. (3) Sudden angry passions (especially when grown into
habits) causing injury. (4) Injury caused by selfish and sensual
passions. (5) Deliberate injury springing from calm selfishness. (6)
Impiety towards the Deity, as known to be good. The worst conceivable
disposition, a fixed, unprovoked original malice is hardly found among
men. In the end of the chapter, he re-asserts the supremacy of the
moral faculty, and of the principle of pure benevolence that it
involves. The inconsistency of the principles of self-love and
benevolence when it arises, is reduced in favour of the second by the
intervention of the moral sense, which does not hold out future rewards
and pleasures of self-approbation, but decides for the generous part by
'an immediate undefinable perception.' So at least, if human nature
were properly cultivated, although it is true that in common life men
are wont to follow their particular affections, generous and selfish,
without thought of extensive benevolence or calm self-love; and it is
found necessary to counterbalance the advantage that the selfish
principles gain in early life, by propping up the moral faculty with
considerations of the surest mode of attaining the highest private
happiness, and with views of the moral administration of the world by
the Deity.
But before passing to these subjects, he devotes Chapter V. to the
confirmation of the doctrine of the Moral Sense, and first from the
Sense of Honour. This, the grateful sensation when we are morally
approved and praised, with the reverse when we are censured, he argues
in his usual manner, involves no thought of private interest. However
the facts may stand, it is always under the impression of actions being
moral or immoral, that the sense of honour works. In defence of the
doctrine of a moral sense, against the argument from the varying
morality of different nations, he says it would only prove the sense
not uniform, as the palate is not uniform in all men. But the moral
sense is really more uniform. For, in every nation, it is the
benevolent actions and affections that are approved, and wherever there
is an error of fact, it is the reason, not the moral sense, that is at
fault. There are no cases of nations where moral approval is restricted
to the pursuit of private interest. The chief causes of variety of
moral approbation are three: (1) Different notions of happiness and the
means of promoting it, whereby much that is peculiar in national
customs, &c., is explained, without reflecting upon the moral sense.
(2) The larger or more confined field on which men consider the
tendencies of their actions--sect, party, country, &c. (3) Different
opinions about the divine commands, which are allowed to over-ride the
moral sense. The moral sense does not imply innate complex ideas of the
several actions and their tendencies, which must be discovered by
observation and reasoning; it is concerned only about inward affections
and dispositions, of which the effects may be very various. In closing
this part of his subject, he considers that all that is needed for the
formation of morals, has been given, because from the moral faculty and
benevolent affection all the special laws of nature can be deduced. But
because the moral faculty and benevolence have difficulty in making way
against the selfish principles so early rooted in man, it is needful to
strengthen these foundations of morality by the consideration of the
nature of the highest happiness.
With Chapter VI. accordingly he enters on the discussion of Happiness,
forming the second half of his first book. The supreme happiness of any
being is the full enjoyment of all the gratifications its nature
desires or is capable of; but, in case of their being inconsistent, the
constant gratification of the higher, intenser, and more durable
pleasures is to be preferred.
In Chapter VII., he therefore directly compares the various kinds of
enjoyment and misery, in order to know what of the first must be
surrendered, and what of the second endured, in aiming at highest
attainable happiness. Pleasures the same in kind are preferable,
according as they are more intense and enduring; of a different kind,
as they are more enduring and dignified, a fact decided at once by our
immediate sense of dignity or worth. In the great diversity of tastes
regarding pleasures, he supposes the ultimate decision as to the value
of pleasures to rest with the possessors of finer perceptive powers,
but adds, that good men are the best judges, because possessed of
fuller experience than the vicious, whose tastes, senses, and appetites
have lost their natural vigour through one-sided indulgence. He then
goes through the various pleasures, depreciating the pleasures of the
palate on the positive side, and sexual pleasure as transitory and
enslaving when pursued for itself; the sensual enjoyments are,
notwithstanding, quite proper within due limits, and then, perhaps, are
at their highest. The pleasures of the _imagination_, knowledge, &c.,
differ from the last in not being preceded by an uneasy sensation to be
removed, and are clearly more dignified and endurable, being the proper
exercise of the soul when it is not moved by the affections of social
virtue, or the offices of rational piety. The _sympathetic_ pleasures
are very extensive, very intense, and may be of very long duration;
they are superior to all the foregoing, if there is a hearty affection,
and are at their height along with the feeling of universal good will.
_Moral_ Enjoyments, from the consciousness of good affections and
actions, when by close reflexion we have attained just notions of
virtue and merit, rank highest of all, as well in dignity as in
duration. The pleasures of _honour_, when our conduct is approved, are
also among the highest, and when, as commonly happens, they are
conjoined with the last two classes, it is the height of human bliss.
The pleasures of _mirth_, such as they are, fall in best with virtue,
and so, too, the pleasures of _wealth_ and _power_, in themselves
unsatisfying. Anger, malice, revenge, &c., are not without their uses,
and give momentary pleasure as removing an uneasiness from the subject
of them; but they are not to be compared with the sympathetic feelings,
because their effects cannot long be regarded with satisfaction. His
general conclusion is, that as the highest personal satisfaction is had
in the most benevolent dispositions, the same course of conduct is
recommended alike by the two great determinations of our nature,
towards our own good and the good of others. He then compares the
several sorts of pain, which, he says, are not necessarily in the
proportion of the corresponding pleasures. Allowing the great misery of
bodily pain, he yet argues that, at the worst, it is not to be compared
for a moment to the pain of the worst wrong-doing. The imagination,
great as are its pleasures, cannot cause much pain. The sympathetic and
moral pains of remorse and infamy are the worst of all.
In Chapter VIII. the various Tempers and Characters are compared in
point of happiness or misery. Even the private affections, in due
moderation, promote the general good; but that system is the best
possible where, along with this, the generous affections also promote
private good. No natural affection is absolutely evil; the evil of
excess in narrow generous affection lies in the want of proportion; in
calm extensive good-will there can be no excess. The social and moral
enjoyments, and those of honour, being the highest, the affections and
actions that procure them are the chief means of happiness; amid human
mischances, however, they need support from a trust in Providence. The
unkind affections and passions (anger, &c.) are uneasy even when
innocent, and never were intended to become permanent dispositions. The
narrow kind of affections are all that can be expected from the
majority of men, and are very good, if only they are not the occasion
of unjust partiality to some, or, worse, ill-grounded aversion to
others. The rest of the chapter is taken up in painting the misery of
the selfish passions when in excess--love of life, sensual pleasure,
desire of power, glory, and ease. He has still one 'object of affection
to every rational mind' that he must deal with before he is done with
considering the question of highest happiness. This is the Deity, or
the Mind that presides in the Universe.
Chapter IX., at great length, discusses the first part of the
subject--the framing of primary ideas regarding the Divine Nature. He
proves the existence of an original mind from design, &c., in the
world; he then finds this mind to be benevolent, on occasion of which
he has to deal with the great question of Evil, giving reasons for its
existence, discovering its uses, narrowing its range as compared with
good, and finally reducing it by the consideration and proof of
immortality; he ends by setting forth the other attributes of
God--providence, holiness, justice, &c.
In Chapter X., he considers the Affections, Duty, and Worship to be
exercised towards God. The moral sense quite specially enjoins worship
of the Deity, internal and external; internal by love and trust and
gratitude, &c., external by prayer, praise, &c. [He seems to ascribe to
prayer nothing beyond a subjective efficacy.] In the acknowledgment of
God is highest happiness, and the highest exercise of the moral
faculty.
In Chapter XI., he closes the whole book with remarks on the Supreme
Happiness of our Nature, which he makes to consist in the perfect
exercise of the nobler virtues, especially love and resignation to God,
and of all the inferior virtues consistent with the superior; also in
external prosperity, so far as virtue allows. The moral sense, and the
truest regard for our own interest, thus recommend the same course as
the calm, generous determination; and this makes up the supreme
cardinal virtue of Justice, which includes even our duties to God.
Temperance in regard to sensual enjoyments, Fortitude as against evils,
and Prudence, or Consideration, in regard to everything that solicits
our desires, are the other virtues; all subservient to Justice. In no
station of life are men shut out from the enjoyment of the supreme
good.
Book II. is a deduction of the more special laws of nature and duties
of life, so far as they follow from the course of life shown above to
be recommended by God and nature as most lovely and most advantageous;
all adventitious states or relations among men aside. The three first
chapters are of a general nature.
In Chapter I., he reviews the circumstances that increase the moral
good or evil of actions. Virtue being primarily an affair of the will
or affections, there can be no imputation of virtue or vice in action,
unless a man is free and able to act; the necessity and impossibility,
as grounds of non-imputation, must, however, have been in no way
brought about by the agent himself. In like manner, he considers what
effects and consequents of his actions are imputable to the agent;
remarking, by the way, that the want of a proper degree of good
affections and of solicitude for the public good is morally evil. He
then discusses the bearing of ignorance and error, vincible and
invincible, and specially the case wherein an erroneous conscience
extenuates. The difficulty of such cases, he says, are due to
ambiguity, wherefore he distinguishes three meanings of Conscience that
are found, (1) the moral faculty, (2) the judgment of the understanding
about the springs and effects of actions, upon which the moral sense
approves or condemns them, (3) our judgments concerning actions
compared with the _law_ (moral maxims, divine laws, &c.).
In Chapter II., he lays down general rules of judging about the
morality of actions from the affections exciting to them or opposing
them; and first as to the degree of virtue or vice when the ability
varies; in other words, morality as dependent on the _strength_ of the
affections. Next, and at greater length, morality as dependent on the
_kind_ of the affections.
Here he attempts to fix, in the first place, the degree of benevolence,
as opposed to private interest, that is necessary to render men
virtuous, or even innocent, in accordance with his principle that there
is implanted in us a very high standard of necessary goodness,
requiring us to do a public benefit, when clear, however burdensome or
hurtful the act may be to ourselves; in the second place, the
proportion that should be kept between the narrower and the more
extensive generous affections, where he does not forget to allow that,
in general, a great part of human virtue must necessarily lie within
the narrow range. Then he gives a number of special rules for
appreciating conduct, advising, _for the very sake of the good to
others that will result therefrom_, that men should foster their
benevolence by the thought of the advantage accruing to themselves here
and hereafter from their virtuous actions; and closes with the
consideration of the cases wherein actions can be imputed to other than
the agents.
In Chapter III., he enters into the general notion of Rights and Laws,
and their divisions. From _right_ use of such affection or actions as
are approved by the moral faculty from their relation to the general
good, or the good of particular persons consistently with the general
good, he distinguishes the _right_ of a man to do, possess, demand,
&c., which exists when his doing, possessing, &c. tend to the good of
society, or to his own, consistent with the rights of others and the
general good, and when obstructing him would have the contrary
tendency. He proceeds to argue, on utilitarian principles, that the
rights that seem to attend every natural desire are perfectly valid
when not against the public interest, but never valid when they are
against it.
Chapter IV. contains a discussion upon the state of Nature, maintaining
that it is not a state of anarchy or war, but full of rights and
obligations. He points out that independent states in their relation to
one another are subject to no common authority, and so are in a state
of nature. Rights belong (1) to individuals, (2) to societies, (3) to
mankind at large. They are also natural, or adventitious, and again
perfect or imperfect.
Chapter V. Natural rights are antecedent to society, such as the right
to life, to liberty, to private judgment, to marriage, &c. They are of
two kinds--perfect and imperfect.
Chapter VI. Adventitious rights are divided into Real and Personal (a
distinction chiefly of legal value.) He also examines into the nature
and foundation of private property.
Chapter VII. treats of the Acquisition of property, Hutcheson, as is
usual with moralists, taking the _occupatio_ of the Roman Law as a
basis of ownership. Property involves the right of (1) use, (2)
exclusive use, (3) alienation.
Chapter VIII. Rights drawn from property are such as mortgages,
servitudes, &c., being rights of what may be called partial or
imperfect ownership.
Chapter IX. discusses the subject of contracts, with the general
conditions required for a valid contract.
Chapter X. Of Veracity. Like most writers on morals, Hutcheson breaks
in upon the strict rule of veracity by various necessary, but
ill-defined, exceptions. Expressions of courtesy and etiquette are
exempted, so also artifices in war, answers extorted by unjust
violence, and some cases of peculiar necessity, as when a man tells a
lie to save thousands of lives.
Chapter XI. Oaths and Vows.
Chapter XII. belongs rather to Political Economy. Its subject is the
values of goods in commerce, and the nature of coin.
Chapter XIII. enumerates the various classes of contracts, following
the Roman Law, taking up _Mandatum, Depositum_, Letting to Hire, Sale,
&c.
Chapter XIV. adds the Roman _quasi-contracts_.
Chapter XV. Rights arising from injuries or wrongs _(torts)_. He
condemns duelling, but admits that, where it is established, a man may,
in some cases, be justified in sending or accepting a challenge.
Chapter XVI. Rights belonging to society as against the individual. The
perfect rights of society are such as the following:--(1) To prevent
suicide; (2) To require the producing and rearing of offspring, at
least so far as to tax and discourage bachelors; (3) To compel men,
though not without compensation, to divulge useful inventions; (4) To
compel to some industry, &c.
Chapter XVII. takes up some cases where the ordinary rights of property
or person are set aside by some overbearing necessity.
Chapter XVIII. The way of deciding controversies in a state of nature
by arbitration.
Book III.--Civil Polity, embracing Domestic and Civil Rights.
Chapter I. _Marriage_. Hutcheson considers that Marriage should be a
perpetual union upon equal terms, 'and not such a one wherein the one
party stipulates to himself a right of governing in all domestic
affairs, and the other promises subjection.' He would allow divorce for
adultery, desertion, or implacable enmity on either side. Upon defect
of children, some sort of concubinage would be preferable to divorce,
but leaving to the woman the option of divorce with compensation. He
notices the misrepresentations regarding Plato's scheme of a community
of wives; 'Never was there in any plan less provision made for sensual
gratification.'
Chapter II. The Rights and Duties of Parents and Children.
Chapter III. The Rights and Duties of Masters and Servants.
Chapter IV. discusses the Motives to constitute Civil Government. If
men were perfectly wise and upright, there would be no need for
government. Man is naturally sociable and political [Greek: xon
politikon].
Chapter V. shows that the natural method of constituting civil
government is by consent or social compact.
Chapter VI. The Forms of Government, with their respective advantages
and disadvantages.
Chapter VII. How far the Rights of Governors extend. Their lives are
more sacred than the lives of private persons; but they may
nevertheless be lawfully resisted, and, in certain cases, put to death.
Chapter VIII. The ways of acquiring supreme Power. That government has
most divine right that is best adapted to the public good: a divine
right of succession to civil offices is ridiculous.
Chapter IX. takes up the sphere of civil law. (1) To enforce the laws
of nature; (2) To appoint the form &c., of contracts and dispositions,
with a view to prevent fraud; (3) To require men to follow the most
prudent methods of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce; (4) To
prescribe rules in matters morally indifferent, where uniformity is
advantageous. Opinions should be tolerated; all except Atheism, and the
denial of moral obligation.
Chapter X. The Laws of Peace and War, belonging now to the subject of
International Law.
Chapter XI. (concluding the work) discusses some cases connected with
the duration of the 'Politick Union.'
This bare indication of topics will suffice to give an idea of the
working out of Hutcheson's system. For summary:--I.--The Standard,
according to Hutcheson, is identical with the Moral Faculty. It is the
Sense of unique excellence in certain affections and in the actions
consequent upon them. The object of approval is, in the main,
benevolence.
II.--His division of the feelings is into calm and turbulent, each of
these being again divided into self-regarding and benevolent. He
affirms the existence of pure Disinterestedness, a _calm_ regard for
the most extended well-being. There are also _turbulent_ passions of a
benevolent kind, whose end is their simple gratification. Hutcheson has
thus a higher and lower grade of Benevolence; the higher would
correspond to the disinterestedness that arises from the operation of
_fixed ideas_, the lower to those affections that are generated in us
by pleasing objects.
He has no discussion on the freedom of the will, contenting himself
with mere voluntariness as an element in moral approbation or censure.
III.--The Summum Bonum is fully discussed. He places the pleasures of
sympathy and moral goodness (also of piety) in the highest rank, the
passive sensations in the lowest. Instead of making morality, like
health, a neutral state (though an indispensable condition of
happiness), he ascribes to it the highest positive gratification.
IV.--In proceeding upon Rights, instead of Duties, as a basis of
classification, Hutcheson is following in the wake of the
jurisconsults, rather than of the moralists. When he enters into the
details of moral duties, he throws aside his 'moral sense,' and draws
his rules, most of them from Roman Law, the rest chiefly from manifest
convenience.
V. and VI.--Hutcheson's relation to Politics and Theology requires no
comment.
BERNARD DE MANDEVILLE. [1670-1733.]
MANDEVILLE was author of 'The Fable of the Bees; or, Private Vices,
Public Benefits' (1714). This work is a satire upon artificial society,
having for its chief aim to expose the hollowness of the so-called
dignity of human nature. Dugald Stewart considered it a recommendation
to any theory of the mind that it exalted our conceptions of human
nature. Shaftesbury's views were entitled to this advantage; but,
observes Mandeville, 'the ideas he had formed of the goodness and
excellency of our nature, were as romantic and chimerical, as they are
beautiful and amiable.' Mandeville examined not what human nature
_ought to be_, but what it really _is_. In contrast, therefore, to the
moralists that distinguish between a higher and a lower in our nature,
attributing to the higher everything good and noble, while the lower
ought to be persecuted and despised, Mandeville declares the fancied
higher parts to be the region of vanity and imposture, while the
renowned deeds of men, and the greatness of kingdoms, really arise from
the passions usually reckoned base and sensual. As his views are
scattered through numerous dissertations, it will be best to summarize
them under a few heads.
1. _Virtue and Vice_. Morality is not natural to man; it is the
invention of wise men, who have endeavoured to infuse the belief, that
it is best for everybody to prefer the public interest to their own.
As, however, they could bestow no _real_ recompense for the thwarting
of self-interest, they contrived an _imaginary_ one--honour. Upon this
they proceeded to divide men into two classes, the one abject and base,
incapable of self-denial; the other noble, because they suppressed
their passions, and acted for the public welfare. Man was thus won to
virtue, not by force, but by flattery.
In regard to praiseworthiness, Shaftesbury, according to Mandeville,
was the first to affirm that virtue could exist without self-denial.
This was opposed to the prevailing opinion, and to the view taken up
and criticised by Mandeville. His own belief was different. 'It is not
in feeling the passions, or in being affected with the frailties of
nature, that vice consists; but in indulging and obeying the call of
them, contrary to the dictates of reason.'
2. _Self-love_. 'It is an admirable saying of a worthy divine, that
though many discoveries have been made in the world of self-love, there
is yet abundance of _terra incognita_ left behind.' There is nothing so
sincere upon earth as the love that creatures bear to themselves. 'Man
centres everything in himself, and neither loves nor hates, but for his
own sake.' Nay, more, we are naturally regardless of the effect of our
conduct upon others; we have no innate love for our fellows. The
highest virtue is not without reward; it has a satisfaction of its own,
the pleasure of contemplating one's own worth. But is there no genuine
self-denial? Mandeville answers by a distinction: mortifying one
passion to gratify another is very common, but this not self-denial;
self-inflicted pain without any recompense--where is that to be found?
'Charity is that virtue by which part of that sincere love we have for
ourselves is transferred pure and unmixed to others (not friends or
relatives), whom we have no obligation to, nor hope or expect
anything-from.' The counterfeit of true charity is _pity_ or
_compassion_, which is a fellow-feeling for the sufferings of others.
Pity is as much a frailty of our nature as anger, pride, or fear. The
weakest minds (_e.g._, women and children) have generally the greatest
share of it. It is excited through the eye or the ear; when the
suffering does not strike our senses, the feeling is weak, and hardly
more than an imitation of pity. Pity, since it seeks rather our own
relief from a painful sight, than the good of others, must be curbed
and controlled in order to produce any benefit to society.
Mandeville draws a nice distinction between self-love, and, what he
calls, _self-liking_. 'To increase the care in creatures to preserve
themselves, Mature has given them an instinct, by which _every
individual values itself above its real worth_.' The more mettlesome
and spirited animals (_e.g._, horses) are endowed with this instinct.
In us, it is accompanied with an apprehension that we do overvalue
ourselves; hence our susceptibility to the confirmatory good opinion of
others. But if each were to display openly his own feeling of
superiority, quarrels would inevitably arise. The grand discovery
whereby the ill consequences of this passion are avoided is
_politeness_. 'Good manners consists in flattering the pride of others,
and concealing our own.' The first step is to conceal our good opinion
of ourselves; the next is more impudent, namely, to pretend that we
value others more highly than ourselves. But it takes a long time to
come to that pitch; the Romans were almost masters of the world before
they learned politeness.
3. _Pride, Vanity, Honour_. Pride is of great consequence in
Mandeville's system. 'The moral virtues are the political offspring
which flattery begot upon pride.' Man is naturally innocent, timid, and
stupid; destitute of strong passions or appetites, he would remain in
his primitive barbarism were it not for pride. Yet all moralists
condemn pride, as a vain notion of our own superiority. It is a subtle
passion, not easy to trace. It is often seen in the humility of the
humble, and the shamelessness of the shameless. It simulates charity;
'pride and vanity have built more hospitals than all the virtues
together.' It is the chief ingredient in the chastity of women, and in
the courage of men. Less cynical moralists than Mandeville have looked
with suspicion on posthumous fame; 'so silly a creature is man, as
that, intoxicated with the fumes of vanity, he can feast on the thought
of the praises that shall be paid his memory in future ages, with so
much ecstasy as to neglect his present life, nay court and covet death,
if he but imagines that it will add to the glory he had acquired
before.' But the most notable institution of pride is the love of
honour. Honour is a 'chimera,' having no reality in nature, but a mere
invention of moralists and politicians, to keep men close to their
engagements, whatever they be. In some families it is hereditary, like
the gout; but, luckily, the vulgar are destitute of it. In the time of
chivalry, honour was a very troublesome affair; but in the beginning of
the 17th century, it was melted over again, and brought to a new
standard; 'they put in the same weight of courage, half the quantity of
honesty, and a very little justice, but not a scrap of any other
virtue.' The worst thing about it is duelling; but there are more
suicides than duels, so that at any rate men do not hate others more
than themselves. After a half-satirical apology for duelling, he
concludes with one insurmountable objection; duelling is wholly
repugnant to religion, adding with the muffled scepticism
characteristic of the 18th century, 'how to reconcile them must be left
to wiser heads than mine.'
4. _Private vices, public benefits_. Mandeville ventures to compare
society to a bowl of punch. Avarice is the souring, and prodigality the
sweetening of it. The water is the ignorance and folly of the insipid
multitude, while honour and the noble qualities of man represent the
brandy. To each of these ingredients we may object in turn, but
experience teaches that, when judiciously mixed, they make an excellent
liquor. It is not the good, but the evil qualities of men, that lead to
worldly greatness. Without luxury we should have no trade. This
doctrine is illustrated at great length, and has been better remembered
than anything else in the book; but it may be dismissed with two
remarks. (1) It embodies an error in political economy, namely, that it
is spending and not saving that gives employment to the poor. If
Mandeville's aim had been less critical, and had he been less delighted
with his famous paradox, we may infer from the acuteness of his
reasoning on the subject, that he would have anticipated the true
doctrine of political economy, as he saw through the fallacy of the
mercantile theory. (2) He employs the term, luxury, with great
latitude, as including whatever is not a bare necessary of existence.
According to the fashionable doctrine of his day, all luxury was called
an evil and a vice; and in this sense, doubtless, vice is essential to
the existence of a great nation.
5. _The origin of society_. Mandeville's remarks on this subject are
the best he has written, and come nearest to the accredited views of
the present day. He denies that we have any natural affection for one
another, or any natural aversion or hatred. Each seeks his own
happiness, and conflict arises from the opposition of men's desires. To
make a society out of the raw material of uncivilized men, is a work of
great difficulty, requiring the concurrence of many favourable
accidents, and a long period of time. For the qualities developed among
civilized men no more belong to them in a savage state, than the
properties of wine exist in the grape. Society begins with _families_.
In the beginning, the old savage has a great wish to rule his children,
but has no capacity for government. He is inconstant and violent in his
desires, and incapable of any steady conduct. What at first keeps men
together is not so much reverence for the father, as the common danger
from wild beasts. The traditions of antiquity are full of the prowess
of heroes in killing dragons and monsters. The second step to society
is the danger men are in from one another. To protect themselves,
several families would be compelled to accept the leadership of the
strongest. The leaders, seeing the mischiefs of dissension, would
employ all their art to extirpate that evil. Thus they would forbid
killing one another, stealing one another's wives, &c. The third and
last step is the invention of letters; this is essential to the growth
of society, and to the corresponding, expansion of law.[22]
I.--Mandeville's object being chiefly _negative_ and _dialectical_, he
has left little of positive ethical theory. Virtue he regards as _de
facto_ an arbitrary institution of society; what it ought to be, he
hardly says, but the tendency of his writings is to make the good of
the whole to be preferred to private interest.
II.--He denies the existence of a moral sense and of disinterestedness.
The motive to observe moral rules is pride and vanity fomented by
politicians. He does not regard virtue as an independent end, even by
association, but considers that pride in its naked form is the ever
present incentive to good conduct.
V.--The connexion of virtue with society is already fully indicated.
In France, the name of HELVETIUS (author of _De l'esprit, De l'homme_,
&c., 1715-71) is identified with a serious (in contrast to Mandeville),
and perfectly consistent, attempt to reduce all morality to direct
Self-interest. Though he adopted this ultimate interpretation of the
facts, Helvetius was by no means the 'low and loose moralist' that he
has been described to be; and, in particular, his own practice
displayed a rare benevolence.
DAVID HUME. [1711-1776.]
The Ethical views of Hume are contained in '_An Enquiry concerning the
Principles of Morals_.'
In an Introductory Section (I.) he treats of the GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF
MORALS.
After describing those that profess to deny the reality of the
distinction of Right and Wrong, as disingenuous disputants, useless to
reason with,--he states the great problem of Morals to be, whether the
foundation is REASON or SENTIMENT; whether our knowledge of moral
distinctions is attained by a chain of argument and induction, or by an
immediate feeling or finer internal sense.
Specious arguments may be urged on both sides. On the side of Reason,
it may be contended, that the justice and injustice of actions are
often a subject of argument and controversy like the sciences; whereas
if they appealed at once to a sense, they would be as unsusceptible of
truth or falsehood as the harmony of verse, the tenderness of passion,
or the brilliancy of wit.
In reply, the supporters of Sentiment may urge that the character of
virtue is to be _amiable_, and of vice to be _odious_, which are not
intellectual distinctions. The end of moral distinctions is to
influence the feelings and determine the will, which no mere assent of
the understanding can do. Extinguish our _feelings_ towards virtue and
vice, and morality would cease to have any influence on our lives.
The arguments on both sides have so much force in them, that we may
reasonably suspect that Reason and Sentiment both concur in our moral
determinations. The final sentence upon actions, whereby we pronounce
them praiseworthy or blameable, may depend on the feelings; while a
process of the understanding may be requisite to make nice
distinctions, examine complicated relations, and ascertain matters of
fact.
It is not the author's intention, however, to pursue the subject in the
form of adjudicating between these two principles, but to follow what
he deems a simpler method--to analyze that complication of mental
qualities, called PERSONAL MERIT: to ascertain the attributes or
qualities that render a man an object of esteem and affection, or of
hatred and contempt. This is a question of fact, and not of abstract
science; and should be determined, as similar questions are, in the
modern physics, by following the experimental method, and drawing
general maxims from a comparison of particular instances.
Section II. is OF BENEVOLENCE.
His first remark on Benevolence is, that it is identified in all
countries with the highest merits that human nature is capable of
attaining to.
This prepares the way for the farther observation, that in setting
forth the praises of a humane, beneficent man, the one circumstance
that never fails to be insisted on is the happiness to society arising
through his good offices. Like the sun, an inferior minister of
providence, he cheers, invigorates, and sustains the surrounding world.
May we not therefore conclude that the UTILITY resulting from social
virtues, forms, at least, a _part_ of their merit, and is one source of
the approbation paid to them. He illustrates this by a number of
interesting examples, and defers the enquiry--_how large_ a part of the
social virtues depend on utility, and for what reason we are so much
affected by it.
Section III. is on JUSTICE. That Justice is useful to society, and
thence derives _part_ of its merit, would be superfluous to prove. That
public utility is the _sole_ origin of Justice, and that the beneficial
consequences are the _sole_ foundation of its merit, may seem more
questionable, but can in the author's opinion be maintained.
He puts the supposition, that the human race were provided with such
abundance of all external things, that without industry, care, or
anxiety, every person found every want fully satisfied; and remarks,
that while every other social virtue (the affections, &c.) might
flourish, yet, as property would be absent, mine and thine unknown,
Justice would be useless, an idle ceremonial, and could never come into
the catalogue of the virtues. In point of fact, where any agent, as
air, water, or land, is so abundant as to supply everybody, questions
of justice do not arise on that particular subject.
Suppose again that in our present necessitous condition, the mind of
every man were so enlarged and so replete with generosity that each
should feel as much for his fellows as for himself--the _beau ideal_ of
communism--in this case Justice would be in abeyance, and its ends
answered by Benevolence. This state is actually realized in
well-cultivated families; and communism has been attempted and
maintained for a time in the ardour of new enthusiasms.
Reverse the above suppositions, and imagine a society in such want
that the utmost care is unable to prevent the greater number from
perishing, and all from the extremes of misery, as in a shipwreck
of a siege; in such circumstances, justice is suspended in favour of
self-preservation; the possibility of good order is at an end, and
Justice, the means, is discarded as useless. Or, again, suppose a
virtuous man to fall into a society of ruffians on the road to swift
destruction; his sense of justice would be of no avail, and
consequently he would arm himself with the first weapon he could seize,
consulting self-preservation alone. The ordinary punishment of
criminals is, as regards them, a suspension of justice for the benefit
of society. A state of war is the remission of justice between the
parties as of no use or application. A civilized nation at war with
barbarians must discard even the small relics of justice retained in
war with other civilized nations. Thus the rules of equity and justice
depend on the condition that men are placed in, and are limited by
their UTILITY in each separate state of things. The common state of
society is a medium between the extreme suppositions now made: we have
our self-partialities, but have learnt the value of equity; we have few
enjoyments by nature, but a considerable number by industry. Hence we
have the ideas of Property; to these Justice is essential, and it thus
derives its moral obligation.
The poetic fictions of the Golden Age, and the philosophic fictions of
a State of Nature, equally adopt the same fundamental assumption; in
the one, justice was unnecessary, in the other, it was inadmissible.
So, if there were a race of creatures so completely servile as never to
contest any privilege with us, nor resent any infliction, which is very
much our position with the lower animals, justice would have no place
in our dealings with them. Or, suppose once more, that each person
possessed within himself every faculty for existence, and were isolated
from every other; so solitary a being would be as incapable of justice
as of speech. The sphere of this duty begins with society; and extends
as society extends, and as it contributes to the well-being of the
individual members of society.
The author next examines the _particular laws_ embodying justice and
determining property. He supposes a creature, having reason, but
unskilled in human nature, to deliberate with himself how to distribute
property. His most obvious thought would be to give the largest
possessions to the most virtuous, so as to give the power of doing good
where there was the most inclination. But so unpracticable is this
design, that although sometimes conceived, it is never executed; the
civil magistrate knows that it would be utterly destructive of human
society; sublime as may be the ideal justice that it supposes, he sets
it aside on the calculation of its bad consequences.
Seeing also that, with nature's liberality, were all her gifts equally
distributed, every one would have so good a share that no one would
have a title to complain; and seeing, farther, that this is the only
type of perfect equality or ideal justice--there is no good ground for
falling short of it but the knowledge that the attempt would be
pernicious to society. The writers on the Law of Nature, whatever
principles they begin with, must assign as the ultimate reason of law
the necessities and convenience of mankind. Uninstructed nature could
never make the distinction between _mine_ and _yours_; it is a purely
artificial product of society. Even when this distinction is
established, and justice requires it to be adhered to, yet we do not
scruple in extraordinary cases to violate justice in an individual case
for the safety of the people at large.
When the interests of society require a rule of justice, but do not
indicate any rule in particular, the resort is to some _analogy_ with a
rule already established on grounds of the general interest.
For determining what is a man's property, there may be many statutes,
customs, precedents, analogies, some constant and inflexible, some
variable and arbitrary, but all professedly terminating in the
interests of human society. But for this, the laws of property would be
undistinguishable from the wildest superstitions.
Such a reference, instead of weakening the obligations of justice,
strengthens them. What stronger foundations can there be for any duty
than that, without it, human nature could not subsist; and that,
according as it is observed, the degrees of human happiness go on
increasing?
Either Justice is evidently founded on Utility, or our regard for it is
a simple instinct like hunger, resentment, or self-preservation. But on
this last supposition, property, the subject-matter, must be also
discerned by an instinct; no such instinct, however, can be affirmed.
Indeed, no single instinct would suffice for the number of
considerations entering into a fact so complex. To define Inheritance
and Contract, a hundred volumes of laws are not enough; how then can
nature embrace such complications in the simplicity of an instinct. For
it is not laws alone that we must have, but authorized interpreters.
Have we original ideas of praetors, and chancellors, and juries?
Instincts are uniform in their operation; birds of a species build
their nests alike. The laws of states are uniform to about the same
extent as houses, which must have a roof and walls, windows and
chimneys, because the end in view demands certain essentials; but
beyond these, there is every conceivable diversity.
It is true that, by education and custom, we blame injustice without
thinking of its ultimate consequences. So universal are the rules of
justice, from the universality of its end, that we approve of it
mechanically. Still, we have often to recur to the final end, and to
ask, What must become of the world if such practices prevail? How could
society subsist under such disorders?
Thus, then, Hume considers that, by an inductive determination, on the
strict Newtonian basis, he has proved that the SOLE foundation of our
regard to justice is the support and welfare of society: and since no
moral excellence is more esteemed, we must have some strong disposition
in favour of general usefulness. Such a disposition must be a part of
the humane virtues, as it is the SOLE source of the moral approbation
of fidelity, justice, veracity, and integrity.
Section IV. relates to POLITICAL SOCIETY, and is intended to show that
Government, Allegiance, and the Laws of each State, are justified
solely by Utility.
If men had _sagacity_ to perceive, and _strength of mind_ to follow
out, distant and general interests, there had been no such thing as
government. In other words, if government were totally useless, it
would not be. The duty of Allegiance would be no duty, but for the
advantage of it, in preserving peace and order among mankind.
[Hume is here supposing that men enter into society on equal terms; he
makes no allowance for the exercise of the right of the stronger in
making compulsory social unions. This, however, does not affect his
reasoning as to the source of our approbation of social duty, which is
not usually extended to tyranny.]
When political societies hold intercourse with one another, certain
regulations are made, termed Laws of Nations, which have no other end
than the advantage of those concerned.
The virtue of Chastity is subservient to the utility of rearing the
young, which requires the combination of both parents; and that
combination reposes on marital fidelity. Without such a utility, the
virtue would never have been thought of. The reason why chastity is
extended to cases where child-bearing does not enter, is that _general
rules_ are often carried beyond their original occasion, especially in
matters of taste and sentiment.
The prohibition of marriage between near relations, and the turpitude
of incest, have in view the preserving of purity of manners among
persons much together.
The laws of good manners are a kind of lesser morality, for the better
securing of our pleasures in society.
Even robbers and pirates must have their laws. Immoral gallantries,
where authorized, are governed by a set of rules. Societies for play
have laws for the conduct of the game. War has its laws as well as
peace. The fights of boxers, wrestlers, and such like, are subject to
rules. For all such cases, the common interest and utility begets a
standard of right and wrong in those concerned.
Section V. proceeds to argue WHY UTILITY PLEASES. However powerful
education may be in forming men's sentiments, there must, in such a
matter as morality, be some deep natural distinction to work upon. Now,
there are only two natural sentiments that Utility can appeal to: (1)
Self-Interest, and (2) Generosity, or the interests of others.
The deduction of morals from Self-Love is obvious, and no doubt
explains much. An appeal to experience, however, shows its defects. We
praise virtuous actions in remote ages and countries, where our own
interests are out of the question. Even when we have a private interest
in some virtuous action, our praise avoids that part of it, and prefers
to fasten on what we are not interested in. When we hear of the details
of a generous action, we are moved by it, before we know when or where
it took place. Nor will the force of imagination account for the
feeling in those cases; if we have an eye solely to our own _real_
interest, it is not conceivable how we can be moved by a mere imaginary
interest.
But another view may be taken. Some have maintained that the public
interest is our own interest, and is therefore promoted by our
self-love. The reply is that the two are often opposed to each other,
and still we approve of the preference of the public interest. We are,
therefore, driven to adopt a more public affection, and to admit that
the interests of society, _on their own, account_, are not indifferent
to us.
Have we any difficulty to comprehend the force of humanity or
benevolence? Or to conceive that the very aspect of happiness, joy,
prosperity, gives pleasure; while pain, suffering, sorrow, communicate
uneasiness? Here we have an unmistakeable, powerful, universal
sentiment of human nature to build upon.
The author gives an expanded illustration of the workings of
Benevolence or Sympathy, which well deserves to be read for its merits
of execution. We must here content ourselves with stating that it is on
this principle of disinterested action, belonging to our nature, that
he founds the chief part of our sentiment of Moral Approbation.
Section VI. takes into the account QUALITIES USEFUL TO OURSELVES. We
praise in individuals the qualities useful to themselves, and are
pleased with the happiness flowing to individuals by their own conduct.
This can be no selfish motive on our part. For example, DISCRETION, so
necessary to the accomplishing of any useful enterprise, is commended;
that measured union of enterprise and caution found in great
commanders, is a subject of highest admiration; and why? For the
usefulness, or the success that it brings. What need is there to
display the praises of INDUSTRY, or of FRUGALITY, virtues useful to the
possessor in the first instance? Then the qualities of HONESTY,
FIDELITY, and TRUTH, are praised, in the first place, for their
tendency to the good of society; and, being established on that
foundation, they are also approved as advantageous to the individual's
own self. A part of our blame of UNCHASTITY in a woman is attached to
its imprudence with reference to the opinion regarding it. STRENGTH OF
MIND being to resist present care, and to maintain the search of
distant profit and enjoyment, is another quality of great value to the
possessor. The distinction between the _Fool_ and the _Wise_ man
illustrates the same position. In our approbation of all such
qualities, it is evident that the happiness and misery of others are
not indifferent spectacles to us: the one, like sunshine, or the
prospect of well-cultivated plains, imparts joy and satisfaction; the
other, like a lowering cloud or a barren landscape, throws a damp over
the spirits.
He next considers the influence of bodily endowments and the goods of
fortune as bearing upon the general question.
Even in animals, one great source of _beauty_ is the suitability of
their structure to their manner of life. In times when bodily strength
in men was more essential to a warrior than now, it was held in so much
more esteem. Impotence in both sexes, and barrenness in women, are
generally contemned, for the loss of human pleasure attending them.
As regards fortune, how can we account for the regard paid to the rich
and powerful, but from the reflexion to the mind of prosperity,
happiness, ease, plenty, authority, and the gratification of every
appetite. Rank and family, although they may be detached from wealth
and power, had originally a reference to these.
In Section VII., Hume treats of QUALITIES IMMEDIATELY AGREEABLE TO
OURSELVES. Under this head, he dilates on the influence of
CHEERFULNESS, as a social quality: on GREATNESS OF MIND, or Dignity of
Character; on COURAGE; on TRANQUILLITY, or equanimity of mind, in the
midst of pain, sorrow, and adverse fortune; on BENEVOLENCE in the
aspect of an agreeable spectacle; and lastly, on DELICACY of Taste, as
a merit. As manifested to a beholder, all these qualities are engaging
and admirable, on account of the immediate pleasure that they
communicate to the person possessed of them. They are farther
testimonies to the existence of social sympathy, and to the connexion
of that with our sentiment of approbation towards actions or persons.
Section VIII. brings forward the QUALITIES IMMEDIATELY AGREEABLE TO
OTHERS. These are GOOD MANNERS or POLITENESS; the WIT or INGENUITY that
enlivens social intercourse; MODESTY, as opposed to impudence,
arrogance, and vanity; CLEANLINESS, and GRACEFUL MANNER; all which are
obviously valued for the pleasures they communicate to people
generally. Section IX. is the CONCLUSION. Whatever may have been
maintained in systems of philosophy, he contends that in common life
the habitual motives of panegyric or censure are of the kind described
by him. He will not enter into the question as to the relative shares
of benevolence and self-love in the human constitution. Let the
generous sentiments be ever so weak, they still direct a preference of
what is serviceable to what is pernicious; and on these preferences a
moral distinction is founded. In the notion of morals, two things are
implied; a sentiment common to all mankind, and a sentiment whose
objects comprehend all mankind; and these two requisites belong to the
sentiment of humanity or benevolence.
Another spring of our constitution, that brings a great addition of
force to moral sentiment, is Love of Fame. The pursuit of a character,
name, and reputation in the world, leads to a habit of surveying our
own actions, begets a reverence for self as well as others, and is thus
the guardian of every virtue. Humanity and Love of Reputation combine
to form the highest type of morality yet conceived.
The nature of moral _approbation_ being thus solved, there remains the
nature of _obligation_; by which the author means to enquire, if a man
having a view to his own welfare, will not find his best account in the
practice of every moral virtue. He dwells upon the many advantages of
social virtue, of benevolence and friendship, humanity and kindness, of
truth and honesty; but confesses that the rule that 'honesty is the
best policy' is liable to many exceptions. He makes us acquainted with
his own theory of Happiness. How little is requisite to supply the
_necessities_ of nature? and what comparison is there between, on the
one hand, the cheap pleasures of conversation, society, study, even
health, and, on the other, the common beauties of nature, with
self-approbation; and the feverish, empty amusements of luxury and
expense?
Thus ends the main treatise; but the author adds, in an Appendix, four
additional dissertations.
The first takes up the question started at the outset, but postponed,
how far our moral approbation is a matter of _reason_, and how far of
_sentiment_. His handling of this topic is luminous and decisive.
If the utility of actions be a foundation of our approval of them,
_reason_ must have a share, for no other faculty can trace the results
of actions in their bearings upon human happiness. In Justice
especially, there are often numerous and complicated considerations;
such as to occupy the deliberations of politicians and the debates of
lawyers.
On the other hand, reason is insufficient of itself to constitute the
feeling of moral approbation or disapprobation. Reason shows the means
to an end; but if we are otherwise indifferent to the end, the
reasonings fall inoperative on the mind. Here then a _sentiment_ must
display itself, a delight in the happiness of men, and a repugnance to
what causes them misery. Reason teaches the consequences of actions;
Humanity or Benevolence is roused to make a distinction in favour of
such as are beneficial.
He adduces a number of illustrations to show that reason alone is
insufficient to make a moral sentiment. He bids us examine Ingratitude,
for instance; good offices bestowed on one side, ill-will on the other.
Reason might say, whether a certain action, say the gift of money, or
an act of patronage, was for the good of the party receiving it, and
whether the circumstances of the gift indicated a good intention on the
part of the giver; it might also say, whether the actions of the person
obliged were intentionally or consciously hurtful or wanting in esteem
to the person obliging. But when all this is made out by reason, there
remains the sentiment of abhorrence, whose foundations must be in the
emotional part of our nature, in our delight in manifested goodness,
and our abhorrence of the opposite.
He refers to Beauty or Taste as a parallel case, where there may be an
operation of the intellect to compute proportions, but where the
elegance or beauty must arise in the region of feeling. Thus, while
_reason_ conveys the knowledge of truth and falsehood, _sentiment_ or
emotion must give beauty and deformity, vice and virtue.
Appendix No. II. is a discussion of SELF-LOVE. The author adverts first
to the position that benevolence is a mere pretence, a cheat, a gloss
of self-love, and dismisses it with a burst of indignation. He next
considers the less offensive view, that all benevolence and generosity
are resolvable in the last resort into self-love. He does not attribute
to the holders of this opinion any laxity in their own practice of
virtue, as compared with other men. Epicurus and his followers were no
strangers to probity; Atticus and Horace were men of generous
dispositions; Hobbes and Locke were irreproachable in their lives.
These men all allowed that friendship exists without hypocrisy; but
considered that, by a sort of mental chemistry, it might be made out
self-love, twisted and moulded by a particular turn of the imagination.
But, says Hume, as some men have not the turn of imagination, and
others have, this alone is quite enough to make the widest difference
of human characters, and to stamp one man as virtuous and humane, and
another vicious and meanly interested. The analysis in no way sets
aside the reality of moral distinctions. The question is, therefore,
purely speculative.
As a speculation, it is open to these objections. (1) Being contrary to
the unprejudiced notions of mankind, it demands some very powerful aid
from philosophy. On the face of things, the selfish passions and the
benevolent passions are widely distinguished, and no hypothesis has
ever yet so far overcome the disparity as to show that the one could
grow out of the other; we may discern in the attempts that love of
_simplicity_, which has done so much harm to philosophy.
The Animals are susceptible of kindness; shall we then attribute to
them, too, a refinement of self-interest? Again, what interest can a
fond mother have in view who loses her health in attendance on a sick
child, and languishes and dies of grief when relieved from the slavery
of that attendance?
(2) But farther, the real simplicity lies on the side of independent
and disinterested benevolence. There are bodily appetites that carry us
to their objects before sensual enjoyment; hunger and thirst have
eating and drinking for their end; the gratification follows, and
becomes a secondary desire. [A very questionable analysis.] So there
are mental passions, as fame, power, vengeance, that urge us to act, in
the first instance; and when the end is attained, the pleasure follows.
Now, as vengeance may be so pursued as to make us neglect ease,
interest, and safety, why may we not allow to humanity and friendship
the same privileges? [This is Butler, improved in the statement.]
Appendix III. gives some farther considerations with regard to JUSTICE.
The point of the discussion is to show that Justice differs from
Generosity or Beneficence in a regard to distant consequences, and to
General Rules. The theme is handled in the author's usual happy style,
but contains nothing special to him. He omits to state what is also a
prime attribute of Justice, its being indispensable to the very
existence of society, which cannot be said of generosity apart from its
contributing to justice.
Appendix IV. is on some VERBAL DISPUTES. He remarks that, neither in
English nor in any other modern tongue, is the boundary fixed between
virtues and talents, vices and defects; that praise is given to natural
endowments, as well as to voluntary exertions. The epithets
_intellectual_ and _moral_ do not precisely divide the virtues; neither
does the contrast of _head_ and _heart_; many virtuous qualities
partake of both ingredients. So the sentiment of _conscious worth_, or
of its opposite, is affected by what is not in our power, as well as by
what is; by the goodness or badness of our memory, as well as by
continence or dissoluteness of conduct. Without endowments of the
understanding, the best intentions will not procure esteem.
The ancient moralists included in the virtues what are obviously
natural endowments. Prudence, according to Cicero, involved sagacity or
powers of judgment. In Aristotle, we find, among the virtues, Courage,
Temperance, Magnanimity, Modesty, Prudence, and manly Openness, as well
as Justice and Friendship. Epictetus puts people on their guard against
humanity and compassion. In general, the difference of voluntary and
involuntary was little regarded in ancient ethics. This is changed in
modern times, by the alliance of Ethics with Theology. The divine has
put all morality on the footing of the civil law, and guarded it by the
same sanctions of reward and punishment; and consequently must make the
distinction of voluntary and involuntary fundamental.
Hume also composed a dialogue, to illustrate, in his light and easy
style, the great variety, amounting almost to opposition, of men's
moral sentiments in different ages. This may seem adverse to his
principle of Utility, as it is to the doctrine of an Intuitive Sense of
Right and Wrong. He allows, however, for the different ways that people
may view Utility, seeing that the consequences of acting are often
difficult to estimate, and people may agree in an end without agreeing
in the means. Still, he pays too little attention to the sentimental
likings and dislikings that frequently overbear the sense of Utility;
scarcely recognizing it, except in one passage, where he dwells on the
superstitions that mingle with a regard to the consequences of actions
in determining right.
We shall now repeat the leading points of Hume's system, in the usual
order.
I.--The Standard of Right and Wrong is Utility, or a reference to the
Happiness of mankind. This is the ground, as wall as the motive, of
moral approbation.
II.--As to the nature of the Moral Faculty, he contends that it is a
compound of Reason, and Humane or Generous Sentiment.
He does not introduce the subject of Free-will into Morals.
He contends strongly for the existence of Disinterested Sentiment, or
Benevolence; but scarcely recognizes it as leading to absolute and
uncompensated self-sacrifice. He does not seem to see that as far as
the approbation of benevolent actions is concerned, we are anything but
disinterested parties. The good done by one man is done to some others;
and the recipients are moved by their self-love to encourage
beneficence. The regard to our own benefactor makes all benefactors
interesting.
III.--He says little directly bearing on the constituents of Human
Happiness; but that little is all in favour of simplicity of life and
cheap pleasures. He does not reflect that the pleasures singled out by
him are far from cheap; 'agreeable conversation, society, study,
health, and the beauties of nature,' although not demanding
extraordinary wealth, cannot be secured without a larger share of
worldly means than has ever fallen to the mass of men in any community.
IV.--As to the substance of the Moral Code, he makes no innovations. He
talks somewhat more lightly of the evils of Unchastity than is
customary; but regards the prevailing restraints as borne out by
Utility.
The inducements to virtue are, in his view, our humane sentiments, on
the one hand, and our self-love, or prudence, on the other; the two
classes of motives conspiring to promote both our own good and the good
of mankind.
V.--The connexion of Ethics with Politics is not specially brought out.
The political virtues are moral virtues. He does not dwell upon the
sanctions of morality, so as to distinguish the legal sanction from the
popular sanction. He draws no line between Duty and Merit.
VI.--He recognizes no relationship between Ethics and Theology. The
principle of Benevolence in the human mind is, he thinks, an adequate
source of moral approbation and disapprobation; and he takes no note of
what even sceptics (Gibbon, for example) often dwell upon, the aid of
the Theological sanction in enforcing duties imperfectly felt by the
natural and unprompted sentiments of the mind.
RICHARD PRICE. (1723-1791.)
Price's work is entitled, 'A Review of the principal questions in
Morals; particularly those respecting the Origin of our Ideas of
Virtue, its Nature, Relation to the Deity, Obligation, Subject-matter,
and Sanctions.' In the third edition, he added an Appendix on 'the
Being and Attributes of the Deity.'
The book is divided into ten c |
