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.