Chapter 85

where his own interests or passions are concerned, to act according to the judgment he would form of another man's duty in his situation. He introduces a criticism on Adam Smith, and re-asserts the doctrine of an innate faculty, explained as the _power of forming_ moral ideas, and not as the innate possession of ideas. For the most part, his exposition is didactic and desultory, with occasional discussions of a critical and scientific nature; as, for example, some remarks on Hume's theory that Justice is an artificial virtue, an account of the basis of Jurisprudence, and a few observations on the Right of Property.

In Chapter III., on Veracity, he contends that considerations of utility do not account for the whole force of our approbation of this virtue. [So might any one say that considerations of what money can purchase do not account for the whole strength of avarice].

In Chapter IV. he deals with Duties to ourselves, and occupies the chapter with a dissertation on Happiness. He first gives an account of the theories of the Stoics and the Epicureans, which connect themselves most closely with the problem of Happiness; and next advances some observations of his own on the subject.

His first remark is on the influence of the Temper, by which he means the Resentful or Irascible passion, on Happiness. As against a censorious disposition, he sets up the pleasure of the benevolent sentiments; he enjoins candour with respect to the motives of others, and a devoted attachment to truth and virtue for their intrinsic excellence; and warns us, that the causes that alienate our affections from our fellow-creatures, suggest gloomy and Hamlet-like conceptions of the order of the universe.

He next adverts to the influence of the Imagination on Happiness. On this, he has in view the addition made to our enjoyments or our sufferings by the respective predominance of hope or of fear in the mind. Allowing for constitutional bias, he recognizes, as the two great sources of a desponding imagination, Superstition and Scepticism, whose evils he descants upon at length. He also dwells on the influence of casual associations on happiness, and commends this subject to the care of educators; giving, as an example, the tendency of associations with Greece and Rome to add to the courage of the classically educated soldier.

His third position is the Influence of our Opinions on Happiness. He here quotes, from Ferguson, examples of opinions unfavourable to Happiness; such as these: 'that happiness consists in having nothing to do,' 'that anything is preferable to happiness,' 'that anything can amuse us better than our duties.' He also puts forward as a happy opinion the Stoical view, 'I am in the station that God has assigned me.' [It must be confessed, however, that these prescriptions savour of the Platonic device of inculcating opinions, not because of their truth, but because of their supposed good consequences otherwise: a proceeding scarcely compatible with an Ethical system that proclaims veracity as superior to utility. On such a system, we are prohibited from looking to anything in an opinion but its truth; we are to suffer for truth, and not to cultivate opinions because of their happy results.]

Stewart remarks finally on the influence of the Habits, on which he notices the power of the mind to accommodate itself to circumstances, and copies Paley's observations on the _setting_ of the habits.

In continuation of the subject of Happiness, he presents a classification of our most important pleasures. We give the heads, there being little to detain us in the author's brief illustration of them. I.--The pleasures of Activity and Repose; II.--The pleasures of Sense; III.--The pleasures of the Imagination; IV.--The pleasures of the Understanding; and V.--The pleasures of the Heart, or of the various benevolent affections. He would have added Taste, or Fine Art, but this is confined to a select few.

In a concluding chapter (V.), he sums up the general result of the Ethical enquiry, under the title, 'the Nature and Essence of Virtue.' No observation of any novelty occurs in this chapter. Virtue is doing our duty; the intentions of the agent are to be looked to; the enlightened discharge of our duty often demands an exercise of the Reason to adjudge between conflicting claims; there is a close relationship, not defined, between Ethics and Politics.

The views of Stewart represent, in the chief points, although not in all, the Ethical theory that has found the greatest number of supporters.

I.--The Standard is internal, or intuitive--the judgments of a Faculty, called the Moral Faculty. He does not approve of the phrase 'Moral Sense,' thinking the analogy of the senses incorrect.

II.--As regards Ethical Psychology, the first question is determined by the remarks on the Standard.

On the second question, Free-will, Stewart maintains Liberty.

On the third question, he gives, like many others, an uncertain sound. In his account of Pity, he recognizes three things, (1) a painful feeling, (2) a selfish desire to remove the cause of the uneasiness, (3) a disposition grounded on benevolent concern about the sufferer. This is at best vague. Equally so is what he states respecting the pleasures of sympathy and benevolence (Book II., Chapter VII.). There is, he says, a pleasure attached to fellow-feeling, a disposition to accommodate our minds to others, wherever there is a benevolent affection; and, in all probability, the pleasure of sympathy is the pleasure of loving and of being beloved. No definite proposition can be gathered from such loose allegations.

III.--We have already abstracted his chapter on Happiness.

IV.--On the Moral Code, he has nothing peculiar.

V.--On the connexion with Religion, we have seen that he is strenuous in his antagonism to the doctrine of the dependence of morality on the will of God. But, like other moralists of the same class, he is careful to add:--'Although religion can with no propriety be considered as the sole foundation of morality, yet when we are convinced that God is infinitely good, and that he is the friend and protector of virtue, this belief affords the most powerful inducements to the practice of every branch of our duty.' He has (Book III.) elaborately discussed the principles of Natural Religion, but, like Adam Smith, makes no reference to the Bible, or to Christianity. He is disposed to assume the benevolence of the Deity, but considers that to affirm it positively is to go beyond our depth.

THOMAS BROWN. [1778-1820.]

Brown's Ethical discussion commences in the 73rd of his _Lectures_. He first criticises the multiplicity of expressions used in the statement of the fundamental question of morals--'What is it that constitutes the action _virtuous_?' 'What constitutes the _moral obligation_ to perform certain actions?' 'What constitutes the _merit_ of the agent?'--These have been considered questions essentially distinct, whereas they are the very same question. There is at bottom but one emotion in the case, the emotion of approbation, or of disapprobation, of an agent acting in a certain way.

In answer then to the question as thus simplified, 'What is the ground of moral approbation and disapprobation?' Brown answers--a simple emotion of the mind, of which no farther explanation can be given than that we are so constituted. Thus, without using the same term, he sides with the doctrine of the Innate Moral Sense. He illustrates it by another elementary fact of the mind, involved in the conception of cause and effect on his theory of that relation--the belief that the future will resemble the past. Excepting a teleogical reference to the Supreme Benevolence of the Deity, he admits no farther search into the nature of the moral sentiment.

He adduces, as another illustration, what he deems the kindred emotion of Beauty. Our feeling of beauty is not the mere perception of forms and colours, or the discovery of the uses of certain combinations of forms; it is an emotion arising from these, indeed, bat distinct from them. Our feeling of moral excellence, in like manner, is not the mere perception of different actions, or the discovery of the physical good that these may produce; it is an emotion _sui generis_, superadded to them.

He adverts, in a strain of eloquent indignation, to the objection grounded on differences of men's moral judgment. There are philosophers, he exclaims, 'that can turn away from the conspiring chorus of the millions of mankind, in favour of the great truths of morals, to seek in some savage island, a few indistinct murmurs that may seem to be discordant with the total harmony of mankind.' He goes on to remark, however, that in our zeal for the immutability of moral distinctions, we may weaken the case by contending for too much; and proposes to consider the species of accordance that may be safely argued for.

He begins by purging away the realistic notion of Virtue, considered as a self-existing entity. He defines it--a term expressing the relation of certain actions to certain emotions in the minds contemplating them; its universality is merely co-extensive with these minds. He then concedes that all mankind do not, at every moment, feel precisely the same emotions in contemplating the same actions, and sets forth the limitations as follows;--

First, In moments of violent passion, the mind is incapacitated for perceiving moral differences; we must, in such cases appeal, as it were, from Philip drunk to Philip sober.

Secondly, Still more important is the limitation arising from the complexity of many actions. Where good and evil results are so blended that we cannot easily assign the preponderance, different men may form different conclusions. Partiality of views may arise from this cause, not merely in individuals, but in whole nations. The legal permission of theft in Sparta is a case in point. Theft, as theft, and without relation to the political object of inuring a warlike people, would have been condemned in Sparta, as well as with us. [The retort of Locke is not out of place here; an innate moral sentiment that permits a fundamental virtue to be set aside on the ground of mere state convenience, is of very little value.] He then goes on to ask whether men, in approving these exceptions to morality, approve them because they are immoral? [The opponents of a moral sense do not contend for an _immoral_ sense.] Suicide is not commended because it deprives society of useful members, and gives sorrow to relations and friends; the exposure of infants is not justified on the plea of adding to human suffering.

Again, the differences of cookery among nations are much wider than the differences of moral sentiment; and yet no one denies a fundamental susceptibility to sweet and bitter. It is not contended that we come into the world with a knowledge of actions, but that we have certain susceptibilities of emotion, in consequence of which, it is impossible for us, in after life, unless from counteracting circumstances, to be pleased with the contemplation of certain actions, and disgusted with certain other actions. When the doctrine is thus stated, Paley's objection, that we should also receive from nature the notions of the actions themselves, falls to the ground. As well might we require an instinctive notion of all possible numbers, to bear out our instinctive sense of proportion.

A third limitation must be added, the influence of the principle of Association. One way that this operates is to transfer, to a whole class of actions, the feelings peculiar to certain marked individuals. Thus, in a civilized country, where property is largely possessed, and under complicated tenures, we become very sensitive to its violation, and acquire a proportionably intense sentiment of Justice. Again, association operates in modifying our approval and disapproval of actions according to their attendant circumstances; as when we extenuate misconduct in a beloved person.

The author contends that, notwithstanding these limitations, we still leave unimpaired the approbation of unmixed good as good, and the disapprobation of unmixed evil as evil. His further remarks, however, are mainly eloquent declamation on the universality of moral distinctions.

He proceeds to criticise the moral systems from Hobbes downwards. His remarks (Lecture 76) on the province of Reason in Morality, with reference to the systems of Clarke and Wollaston, contain the gist of the matter well expressed.

He next considers the theory of Utility. That Utility bears a certain relation to Virtue is unquestionable. Benevolence means good to others, and virtue is of course made up, in great part, of this. But then, if Utility is held to be the _measure_ of virtue, standing in exact proportion to it, the proposition is very far from true; it is only a small portion of virtuous actions wherein the measure holds.

He does not doubt that virtuous actions do all tend, in a greater or less degree, to the advantage of the world. But he considers the question to be, whether what we have _alone in view_, in approving certain actions, be the amount of utility that they bring; whether we have no other reason for commending a man than for praising a chest of drawers.

Consider this question first from the point of view of the agent. Does the mother, in watching her sick infant, think of the good of mankind at that moment? Is the pity called forth by misery a sentiment of the general good? Look at it again from the point of view of the spectator. Is his admiration of a steam-engine, and of an heroic human action, the same sentiment? Why do we not worship the earth, the source of all our utilities? The ancient worshippers of nature always gave it a soul in the first instance.

When the supporter of Utility arbitrarily confines his principles to the actions of living beings, he concedes the point in dispute; he admits an approvableness peculiar to _living and voluntary agents_, a capacity of exciting moral emotions not commensurate with any utility. Hume says, that the sentiments of utility connected with human beings are mixed with affection, esteem, and approbation, which do not attach to the utility of inanimate things. Brown replies, that these are the very sentiments to be accounted for, the moral part of the case.

But another contrast may be made; namely, between the utility of virtue and the utility of talent or genius, which we view with very different and unequal sentiments; the inventors of the printing press do not rouse the same emotions as the charities of the Man of Ross.

Still, he contends, like the other supporters of innate moral distinctions, for a pre-established harmony between the two attributes. Utility and virtue are so intimately related, that there is perhaps no action generally felt by us as virtuous, but what is generally beneficial. But this is only discovered by reflecting men; it never enters the mind of the unthinking multitude. Nay, more, it is only the Divine Being that can fully master this relationship, or so prescribe our duties that they shall ultimately coincide with the general happiness.

He allows that the immediate object of the _legislator_ is the general good; but then his relationship is to the community as a whole, and not to any particular individual.

He admits, farther, that the good of the world at large, if not the _only_ moral object, _is_ a moral object, in common with the good of parents, friends, and others related to us in private life. Farther, it may be requisite for the moralist to correct our moral sentiments by requiring greater attention to public, and less to private, good; but this does not alter the nature of our moral feelings; it merely presents new objects to our _moral discrimination_. It gives an exercise to our reason in disentangling the complicated results of our actions.

He makes it also an objection to Utility, that it does not explain _why_ we feel approbation of the useful, and disapprobation of the hurtful; forgetting that Benevolence is an admitted fact of our constitution, and may fairly be assigned by the moralist as the source of the moral sentiment.

His next remarks are on the Selfish Systems, his reply to which is the assertion of disinterested Affections. He distinguishes two modes of assigning self-interest as the sole motive of virtuous conduct. First, it may be said that in every so-called virtuous action, we see some good to self, near or remote. Secondly, it may be maintained that we become at last disinterested by the associations of our own interest.

He calls in question this alleged process of association. Because a man's own cane is interesting to him, it does not follow that every other man's cane is interesting. [He here commits a mistake of fact; other men's walking canes are interesting to the interested owner of a cane. It may not follow that this interest is enough to determine self-sacrifice.]

It will be inferred that Brown contends warmly for the existence of Disinterested Affection, not merely as a present, but as a primitive, fact of our constitution. He does not always keep this distinct from the Moral Sentiment; he, in fact, mixes the two sentiments together in his language, a thing almost inevitable, but yet inconsistent with the advocacy of a distinct moral sentiment.

He includes among the Selfish Systems the Ethical Theory of Paley, which he reprobates in both its leading points--everlasting happiness as the motive, and the will of God as the rule. On the one point, this theory is liable to all the objections against a purely selfish system; and, on the other point, he makes the usual replies to the founding of morality on the absolute will of the Deity.

Brown next criticises the system of Adam Smith. Admitting that we have the sympathetic feeling that Smith proceeds upon, he questions its adequacy to constitute the moral sentiment, on the ground that it is not a perpetual accompaniment of our actions. There must be a certain _vividness_ of feeling or of the display of feeling, or at least a sufficient cause of vivid feeling, to call the sympathy into action. In the numerous petty actions of life, there is an absence of any marked sympathy.

But the essential error of Smith's system is, that it assumes the very moral feelings that it is meant to explain. If there were no antecedent moral feelings, sympathy could not afford them; it is only a mirror to reflect what is already in existence. The feelings that we sympathize with, are themselves moral feelings already; if it were not so, the reflexion of them from a thousand breasts would not give them a moral nature.

Brown thinks that Adam Smith was to some extent misled by an ambiguity in the word sympathy; a word applied not merely to the participation of other men's feelings, but to the further and distinct fact of the _approbation_ of those feeling's.

Although siding in the main with Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, Brown objects to their designation Moral Sense, as expressing the innate power of moral approbation. If 'Sense' be interpreted merely as susceptibility, he has nothing to say, but if it mean a primary medium of perception, like the eye or the ear, he considers it a mistake. It is, in his view, an _emotion_, like hope, jealousy, or resentment, rising up on the presentation of a certain class of objects. He farther objects to the phrase 'moral ideas,' also used by Hutcheson. The moral emotions are more akin to love and hate, than to perception or judgment.

Brown gives an exposition of Practical Ethics under the usual heads: Duties to Others, to God, to Ourselves. Duties to others he classifies thus:--I.--_Negative_, or abstinence from injuring others in Person, Property, Affections, Character or Reputation, Knowledge (veracity), Virtue, and Tranquillity; II. _Positive_, or Benevolence; and III.--Duties growing out of our _peculiar ties_--Affinity, Friendship, Good offices received, Contract, and Citizenship.

To sum up

I.--As regards the Standard, Brown contends for an Innate Sentiment.

II.--The Faculty being thus determined, along with the Standard, we have only to resume his views as to Disinterested action. For a full account of these, we have to go beyond the strictly Ethical lectures, to his analysis of the Emotions. Speaking of love, he says that it includes a desire of doing good to the person loved; that it is necessarily pleasurable because there must be some quality in the object that gives pleasure; but it is not the mere pleasure of loving that makes us love. The qualities are delightful to love, and yet impossible not to love. He is more explicit when he comes to the consideration of Pity, recognizing the existence of sympathy, not only without liking for the object, but with positive dislike. In another place, he remarks that we desire the happiness of our fellows simply as human beings. He is opposed to the theory that would trace our disinterested affections to a selfish origin. He makes some attempt to refer to the laws of Association, the taking in of other men's emotions, but thinks that there is a reflex process besides.

Although recognizing in a vague way the existence of genuine disinterested impulses, he dilates eloquently, and often, on the deliciousness of benevolence, and of all virtuous feelings and conduct.

WILLIAM PALEY. [1743-1805].

The First Book of Paley's 'Moral and Political Philosophy' is entitled 'PRELIMINARY CONSIDERATIONS' it is in fact an unmethodical account of various fundamental points of the subject. He begins by defining Moral Philosophy as '_that science which teaches men their duty, and the reasons of it_. The ordinary rules are defective and may mislead, unless aided by a scientific investigation. These ordinary rules are the Law of Honour, the Law of the Land, and the Scriptures.

He commences with the Law of Honour, which he views in its narrow sense, as applied to people of rank and fashion. This is of course a very limited code.

The Law of the Land also must omit many duties, properly compulsory, as piety, benevolence, &c. It must also leave unpunished many vices, as luxury, prodigality, partiality. It must confine itself to offences strictly definable.

The Scriptures lay down general rules, which have to be applied by the exercise of reason and judgment. Moreover, they pre-suppose the principles of natural justice, and supply new sanctions and greater certainty. Accordingly, they do not dispense with a scientific view of morals.

[The correct arrangement of the common rules would have been (1) the Law of the Land, (2) the Laws of Society generally, and (3) the Scriptures. The Law of Honour is merely one application of the comprehensive agency of society in punishing men, by excommunication, for what it prohibits.]

Then follows his famous chapter on the MORAL SENSE.

It is by way of giving an effective statement of the point in dispute that he quotes the anecdote of Caius Toranius, as an extreme instance of filial ingratitude, and supposes it to be put to the wild boy caught in the woods of Hanover, with the view of ascertaining whether he would feel the sentiment of disapprobation as we do. Those that affirm an innate moral sense, must answer in the affirmative; those that deny it, in the negative.

He then recites the arguments on both sides.

For the moral sense, it is contended, that we approve examples of generosity, gratitude, fidelity, &c., on the instant, without deliberation and without being conscious of any assignable reason; and that this approbation is uniform and universal, the same sorts of conduct being approved or disapproved in all ages and countries; which circumstances point to the operation of an instinct, or a moral sense.

The answers to these allegations are--

First, The _Uniformity_ spoken of is not admitted as a fact. According to the authentic accounts of historians and travellers, there is scarcely a single vice that, in some age or country of the world, has not been countenanced by public opinion. The murder of aged parents, theft, suicide, promiscuous intercourse of the sexes, and unmentionable crimes have been tolerated and approved. Among ourselves, Duelling is viewed with the most opposite sentiments; forgiveness of injuries is accounted by some people magnanimity, and by others meanness. In these, and in many other instances, moral approbation follows the fashions and institutions of the country, which institutions have themselves grown out of local circumstances, the arbitrary authority of some chieftain, or the caprice of the multitude.

Secondly, That, although, after allowing for these exceptions, it is admitted that some sorts of actions are more approved than others, the approbation being general, although not universal, yet this may be accounted for, without supposing a moral sense, thus:--

Having experienced a particular line of conduct as beneficial to ourselves, for example, telling the truth, a sentiment of approbation grows up in consequence, and this sentiment thereupon arises whenever the action is mentioned, and without our thinking of the consequences in each instance. The process is illustrated by the love of money, which is strongest in the old, who least of all think of applying it to its uses. By such means, the approval of certain actions is commenced; and being once commenced, the continuance of the feeling is accounted for by authority, by imitation, and by all the usages of good society. As soon as an entire society is possessed of an ethical view, the initiation of the new members is sure and irresistible. The efficacy of Imitation is shown in cases where there is no authority or express training employed, as in the likings and dislikings, or tastes and antipathies, in mere matters of indifference.

So much in reply to the alleged uniformity. Next come the positive objections to a Moral Instinct.

In the first place, moral rules are not absolutely and universally true; they bend to circumstances. Veracity, which is a natural duty, if there be any such, is dispensed with in case of an enemy, a thief, or a madman. The obligation of promises is released under certain circumstances.

In the next place, the Instinct must bear with it the _idea_ of the actions to be approved or disapproved; but we are not born with any such ideas.

On the whole, either there exist no moral instincts, or they are undistinguishable from prejudices and habits, and are not to be trusted in moral reasonings. Aristotle held it as self-evident that barbarians are meant to be slaves; so do our modern slave-traders. This instance is one of many to show that the convenience of the parties has much to do with the rise of a moral sentiment. And every system built upon instincts is more likely to find excuses for existing opinions and practices than to reform either.

Again: supposing these Instincts to exist, what is their authority or power to punish? Is it the infliction of remorse? That may be borne with for the pleasures and profits of wickedness. If they are to be held as indications of the will of God, and therefore as presages of his intentions, that result may be arrived at by a surer road.

The next preliminary topic is HUMAN HAPPINESS.

Happiness is defined as the excess of pleasure over pain. Pleasures are to be held as differing only in _continuance_, and in _intensity_. A computation made in respect of these two properties, confirmed by the degrees of cheerfulness, tranquillity, and contentment observable among men, is to decide all questions as to human happiness.

I.--What Human Happiness does not consist in.

Not in the pleasures of Sense, in whatever profusion or variety enjoyed; in which are included sensual pleasures, active sports, and Fine Art.

1st, Because they last for a short time. [Surely they are good for the time they do last.] 2ndly, By repetition, they lose their relish. [Intermission and variety, however, are to be supposed.] 3rdly, The eagerness for high and intense delights takes away the relish from all others.

Paley professes to have observed in the votaries of pleasure a restless craving for variety, languor under enjoyment, and misery in the want of it. After all, however, these pleasures have their value, and may be too much despised as well as too much followed.

Next, happiness does not consist in the exemption from pain (?), from labour, care, business, and outward evils; such exemption leaving one a prey to morbid depression, anxiety, and hypochondria. Even a pain in moderation may be a refreshment, from giving a stimulus to pursuit.

Nor does it consist in greatness, rank, or station. The reason here is derived, as usual, from the doctrine of Relativity or Comparison, pushed beyond all just limits. The illustration of the dependence of the pleasure of superiority on comparison is in Paley's happiest style.

II.--What happiness does consist in. Allowing for the great difficulties of this vital determination, he proposes to be governed by a reference to the conditions of life where men appear most cheerful and contented.

It consists, 1st, In the exercise of the social affections. 2ndly, The exercise of our faculties, either of body or of mind, in the pursuit of some engaging end. [This includes the two items of occupation and plot-interest.] 3rdly, Upon the prudent constitution of the habits; the prudent constitution being chiefly in moderation and simplicity of life, or in demanding few stimulants; and 4thly, In Health, whose importance he values highly, but not too highly.

The consideration of these negative and positive conditions, he thinks, justifies the two conclusions: (1) That happiness is pretty equally distributed amongst the different orders of society; and (2) That in respect of this world's happiness, vice has no advantage over virtue.

The last subject of the First Book is VIRTUE. The definition of virtue is '_the doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness_.'

If this were strictly interpreted according to its form, it would mean that three things go to constitute virtue, any one of which being absent, we should not have virtue. Doing good to mankind alone is not virtue, unless coupled with a divine requirement; and this addition would not suffice, without the farther circumstance of everlasting happiness as the reward. But such is not his meaning, nor is it easy to fix the meaning. He unites the two conditions--Human Happiness and the Will of the Deity--and holds them to coincide and to explain one another. Either of the two would be a sufficient definition of virtue; and he would add, as an explanatory proposition and a guide to practice, that the one may be taken as a clue to the other. In a double criterion like this, everything depends upon the manner of working it. By running from one of the tests to another at discretion, we may evade whatever is disagreeable to us in both.