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 MORAL SCIENCE: 
 
 A COMPEll^TDIUM OF ETHICS, 
 
 1012,0 
 
 BY 
 
 ALBXAXDEE BAW, M. A., 
 
 AUTHOR or " JTENTAL SCXITNCE : A COMPKNTiltTM OF PSTCHOLOOT ; " 
 SENSES AND THE rVTELLECT ; " "'THE CMOTIOXS AlfD THE "WTLL ; " 
 MANUAL OF RHETORIC ; " PROFESSOR OF LOGIC IN THE UNITERSITT 
 OF ABERDEEN, ETC., ETC., ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI •: CHICAGO 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, "by 
 
 D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 
 
 Id the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
 
 District of New York. 
 
 Printed b? 
 
 S). Hppleton &. Company 
 
 *Kcw li>orft, •». S. a.
 
 1UU\ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The present Dissertation falls under two divisions. 
 
 The first division, entitled The Theory of Ethics, gives 
 an account of the questions or points brought into discus- 
 sion, and handles at length the two of greatest prominence, 
 the Ethical Standard, and the Moral Faculty. 
 
 The second division — on The Ethical Systems— is a full 
 detail of all the systems, ancient and modern, by conjoined 
 Abstract and Summary. With few exceptions, an abstract 
 is made of each author's exposition of his own theory, the 
 fubiess being measured by relative importance ; while, for 
 better comparing and remembering the several theories, 
 they are summarized at the end, on a uniform plan. 
 
 The connection of Ethics with Psychology is necessarily 
 intimate ; the leading ethical controversies involve a refer- 
 ence to mind, and can be settled only by a more thorough 
 understanding of mental processes. 
 
 Although the present volume is properly a continuation 
 of the Manual of Psychology and the History of Philosophy, 
 recently published, and contains occasional references to 
 that treatise, it may still be perused as an independent work 
 on the Ethical Doctrines and Systems. 
 
 A. B.
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAET L 
 
 THE THEORY OF ETHICS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 PRELIMINARY VIEW OF ETHICAL QUESTIOXS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 I. — The Ethical Standard. Summary of views , 15 
 
 [. — Psychological questions. 1. The Moral Faculty. 2. The 
 
 Freedom of the "Will ; the sources of Disinterested conduct 17 
 
 IIL — The BoxuM, Summum Bonum, or Happiness 18 
 
 lY. — The Classification of Duties, and the Moral Code 19 
 
 V. — Relationship of Ethics to Politics ib. 
 
 VL — Relation to Theology ib. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE ETHICAL STANDARD. 
 
 1. Ethics, as a department of Practice, is defined by its End 20 
 
 2. The Ethical End is the welfare of society, realized through rules 
 
 of conduct duly enforced ib. 
 
 2. The Rules of Ethics are of two kinds. The first are imposed 
 
 under a penalty. These are Laws proper, or Obligatory 
 
 Morality ib. 
 
 4. The second are supported by Rewards ; constituting Optional 
 
 Morality, Merit, Virtue, or Nobleness 21 
 
 6. The Ethical End, or Morality, as it has been, is founded partly in 
 
 Utility, and partly in Sentiment 23 
 
 6. The Ethical End is limited, according to the view taken of Moral 
 
 Government, or Authority : — Distinction between Security and 
 Improvement 24 
 
 7. Morality, in its essential parts, is * Eternal and Immutable ; ' in 
 
 other parts, it varies with custom 26
 
 6 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 8. Enquiry as to the kind of proof that an Ethical Standard is 
 
 susceptible of. The ultimate end of action must be referred to 
 individual judgment 26 
 
 9. The judgment of Mankind is, with some qualifications, in favour 
 
 of Happiness as the supreme end of conduct 27 
 
 10. The Ethical end that society is tending to, is Happiness, or 
 
 Utility 28 
 
 11. Objections against Utility, I. — Happiness is not the sole aim of 
 
 human pursuit 3C 
 
 12. II, — The consequences of actions are beyond calculation 31 
 
 13. Ill, — The principle of Utility contains no motives to seek the 
 
 happiness of others 32 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE MORAL FACULTY. 
 
 1. Question whether the Moral Faculty be simple or complex 34 
 
 2. Arguments in favour of its being simple and intuitive : — First, Our 
 
 moral judgments are immediate and instantaneous ib. 
 
 3. Secondly, It is a faculty common to all mankind ib. 
 
 4. Thirdly, It is different from any other mental phenomenon 35 
 
 5. Replies to these Arguments, and Counter-arguments: — First; 
 
 Immediateness of operatinn is no proof of an innate origin. . . . ib. 
 
 6. Secondly, The alleged similarity of men's moral judgments holds 
 
 only in a limited degree. Answers given by the advocates of 
 an Innate sentiment, to the discrepancies ib. 
 
 7. Thirdly, Moral right and wrong is not an indivisible property, but 
 
 an extensive Code of regulations 37 
 
 8. Fourthly, Intuition is not sufficient to settle debated questions. . 38 
 
 9. Fifthly, It is possible to analyze the Moral Faculty : — Estimate 
 
 of the operation of (1) Prudence, (2) Sympathy, and (3) the 
 Emotions generally 39 
 
 10. The peculiar attribute of Rightness arises from the institution of 
 
 Government or Authority 41 
 
 11. The speciality of Conscience, or the Moral Sentiment, is identi- 
 
 fied with our education under Government, or Authority 42
 
 CONTENTS. 7 
 
 PAET II. 
 
 THE ETHICAL SYSTEMS. 
 
 PAGS 
 
 i SoKRATES. His subjects were Men and Society. His Ethical Stand- 
 ard indistinctly expressed. Resolved Virtue into Knowledge. 
 Ideal of pursuit — Well-doing. Inculcated self-denying Precepts. 
 Political Theory. Connexion of Ethics v, ith Theology slender .... 46 
 
 Plato. Review of the Dialogues containing portions of Ethical 
 Theory: — Alkihiades I. discusses Just and Unjust. Alkihiades IL 
 the Knowledge of Good or Reason. Hippias Minor identifies Vir- 
 tue with Knowledge. Minos (on Law) refers everything to tne 
 decision of an Ideal Wise man. Ladies resolves Courage, and 
 Charmides Tempei-ance, into Intelligence or the supreme science of 
 good and evil. Lysis (on Friendship) gives the Idea of the good 
 as the supreme object of affection. Menon enquires, Is virtue teuch- 
 ahle? and iterates the science of good and evil. Protagoras makes 
 Pleasure the only good, and Pain the only evil, and define.) the 
 science of good and evil as the comparison of pleasures and pains. 
 Gorgias contradicts Protagoras, and sets up Order or Discipline as 
 a final end. Politikus (on Government) repeats the Sokratit ideal 
 of the One Wise man. Philebus makes Good a compound of Pleas- 
 ure with Intelligence, the last predominating. The Republic as- 
 similates Society to an Individual man, and defines Justice as the 
 balance of the constituent parts of each. Timceus repeats the doc- 
 trine that wickedness is disease, and not voluntary. The Laws 
 place all conduct under the prescription of the civil magistrate. 
 Summary of Plato's views 49 
 
 The Cynics and the Cyrenaics. Cynic succession. The proper 
 description of the tenets of both schools comes under the Summum 
 Bonum. The Cynic Ideal was the minimum of wants, and their 
 self-denial was compensated by exemption from fear, and by pride 
 of superiority. The Cyrenaic Aristippus : — Was the first to main- 
 tain that the summum bonum is Pleasure and the absence of Pain. 
 Future Pleasures and Pains taken into the account. His Psy- 
 chology of Pleasure and Pain B6 
 
 Aristotle. Abstract of the Xicomachean Ethics 63 
 
 Book First. The Chief Good, or Highest End of human endeavours. 
 Great differences of opinion as to the nature of Happiness. The 
 Platonic Idea of the Good criticised. The Highest End an end-
 
 8 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOl 
 
 in-itself. Virtue referable to the special work of man ; growing 
 out of his mental capacity. External conditions necessary to vir- 
 tue and happiness. The Soul subdivided into parts, each having 
 its characteristic virtue or excellence 63 
 
 Book Second. Definition and classification of the Moral virtues. 
 Virtue the result of Habit. Doctrine of the Mean. The test of 
 virtue to feel no pain. Virtue defined {genus) an acquirement or a 
 State, {differentia) a Mean between extremes. Rules for hitting the 
 Mean 67 
 
 Book Third. The Voluntary and Involuntary. Deliberate Prefe- 
 rence. Virtue and vice are voluntary. The virtues in detail : — 
 Courage [Self-sacrifice implied in Courage]. Temperance 71 
 
 Book Fourth. Liberality. Magnificence. Magnanimity. Mildness. 
 Good-breeding. Modesty 76 
 
 Book Fifth. Justice : — Universal Justice includes all virtue. Par- 
 ticular Justice is of two kinds, Distributive and Corrective , . 79 
 
 Book Sixth. Intellectual Excellences, or Virtues of the Intellect. 
 The Rational part of the Soul embraces the Scientific and the De- 
 liberative functions. Science deals with the necessary. Prudence 
 or the Practical Reason ; its aims and requisites. In virtue, good 
 dispositions must be accompanied with Prudence 81 
 
 Book Seventh. Gradations of moral strength and moral weakness. 
 Continence and Incontinence 86 
 
 Books Eighth and Ninth. Friendship : — Grounds of Friendship. 
 Varieties of Friendship, corresponding to different objects of lik- 
 ing. Friendship between the virtuous is alone perfect. A settled 
 habit, not a mere passion. Equality in friendship. Political friend- 
 ships. Explanation of the family affections. Rule of reciprocity 
 of services. Conflicting obligations. Cessation of friendships. 
 Goodwill. Love felt by benefactors. Self-love. Does the happy 
 man need friends ? 88 
 
 Book Tenth. Pleasure : — Theories of Pleasure — Eudoxus, Speu- 
 sippus, Plato. Pleasure is not The Good. Pleasure defined. The 
 pleasures of Intellect. Nature of the Good or Happiness resumed. 
 Perfect happiness found only in the philosophical life ; second to 
 which is the active social life of the good citizen. Happiness of 
 the gods. Transition from Ethics to Politics 92 
 
 The Stoics. The succession of Stoical philosophers. Theological 
 Doctrines of the Stoics : — The Divine Government ; human beings 
 must rise to the comprehension of Universal Law; the soul at 
 death absorbed into the divine essence ; argument from Design. 
 Psychology : — Theory of Pleasure and Pain ; theory of the Will. 
 Doctrine of Happiness or the Good : — Pain no evil ; discipline of
 
 CONTENTS. » 
 
 PAOB 
 
 endurance — Apathy. Theory of Virtue : — Subordination of self 
 to the larger interests ; their view of active Beneficence ; the 
 Stoical paradoxes ; the idea of Duty ; consciousness of Self-im- 
 provement 99 
 
 Epicprus. Life and writings. His successors. Virtue and vice 
 referred by him to Pleasures and Pains calculated by Reason. 
 Freedom from Pain the primary object. Regulation of desires. 
 Pleasure good if not leading to pain. Bodily feeling the founda- 
 tion of sensibility. Mental feelings contain memory and hope. 
 The greatest miseries are from the delusions of hope, and from the 
 torments of fear. Fear of Death and Fear of the Gods. Relations 
 with others ; Justice and Friendship — both based on reciprocity. 
 Virtue and Happiness inseparable. Epicureanism the type of all 
 systems grounded on enlightened self-interest Ill 
 
 The Neo-Platonists. The Moral End to be attained through an 
 intellectual regimen. The soul being debased by its connection 
 with matter, the aim of human action is to regain the spiritual life. 
 The first step is the practice of the cardinal virtues : the next the 
 purifying virtues. Happiness is the undisturbed life of contem 
 plation. Correspondence of the Ethical, with the Metaphysical 
 scheme 121 
 
 Scholastic Ethics. Abaelard : — Lays great stress on the subjec- 
 tive element in morality ; highest human good, love to God ; actions 
 judged by intention, and intention by conscience. St. Bernard : — 
 Two degrees of virtue. Humanity and Lovo. John of Salisbury: 
 — Combines philosophy and theology ; doctrine of Happiness ; the 
 lower and higher desires. Alexander of Hales. Bonaventura. 
 Albertus Magnus. Aquinas: — Aristotelian mode of enquiry as 
 to the end ; God the highest good ; true happiness lies in the self- 
 sufficing theoretic intelligence ; virtue ; division of the virtues .... 123 
 
 HoBBES. (Abstract of the Ethical part of Leviathan). Constituents 
 of man's nature. The Good. Pleasure. The simple passions. 
 Theory of the Will. Good and evil. Conscience. Virtue. Posi- 
 tion of Ethics in the Sciences. Power, Worth, Dignity. Happi- 
 ness a perpetual progress ; consequences of the restlessness of 
 desire. Natural state of mankind ; a state of enmity and war. 
 Necessity of articles of peace, called Laws of Nature. Law 
 defined. Rights ; Renunciation of rights ; Contract ; Merit. Jus- 
 tice. Laws of Gratitude, Complaisance, Pardon upon repentance. 
 Laws against Cruelty, Contumely, Pride, Arrogance. Laws of 
 Nature, how fa." binding. Summary 129 
 
 Cumberland. Standard of Moral Good summed up in Benevolence. 
 The moral faculty is the Reason, apprehending the Nature of
 
 10 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 Things. Innate Ideas an insufficient foundation. Will. Dis- 
 interested action. Happiness. Moral Code, the common good of 
 all rational beings. Obligations in respect of giving and of receiving. 
 Politics. Religion 142 
 
 CuDWORTH. Moi-al Good and Evil cannot be arbitrary. The mind 
 has a power of Intellection, above Sense, for aiming at the eternal 
 and immutable verities 146 
 
 Clarke. The eternal Fitness and Unfitness of Things determine 
 Justice, Equity, Goodness and Truth, and lay corresponding obli- 
 gations upon reasonable creatures. The sanction of Rewards and 
 Punishments secondary and additional. Our Duties 148 
 
 WoLL ASTON. Resolves good and evil into Truth and Falsehood .... 152 
 
 Locke. Arguments against Innate Practical Principles. Freedom 
 of the Will. Moral Rules grounded in law ib. 
 
 Butler. Characteristics of our Moral Perceptions. Disinterested 
 Benevolence a fact of our constitutions. Our passions and affec- 
 tions do not aim at self as their immediate end. The Supremacy 
 of Conscience established from our moral nature. Meanings of 
 Nature. Benevolence not ultimately at variance with Self- 
 Love 159 
 
 Hutcheson. — Primary feelings of the mind. Finer perceptions — 
 Beauty, Sympathy, the Moral Sense, Social feelings ; the benevo- 
 lent order of the world suggesting Natural Religion. Order or 
 subordination of the feelincrs as Motives ; position of Benevolence. 
 The Moral Faculty distinct and independent. Confirmation of the 
 doctrine from the Sense of Honour. Happiness. The tempers and 
 characters bearing on happiness. Duties to God. Circumstances 
 aflfecting the moral good or evil of actions. Rights and Laws. ... 166 
 
 Mandeville. Virtue supported solely by self-interest. Compassion 
 resolvable into self. Pride an important source of moral virtue. 
 Private vices, public benefits. Origin of Society 179 
 
 Hume. Question whether Reason or Sentiment be the foundation 
 of morals. The esteem for Benevolence shows that Utility enters 
 into virtue. Proofs that Justice is founded solely on Utility. 
 Political Society has utility for its end. The Laws. Why Utility 
 pleases. Qualities useful to ourselves. Qualities agreeable (1) to 
 ourselves, and (2) to others. Obligation. The respective share of 
 Reason and of Sentiment in moral approbation. Benevolence not 
 
 resolvable into Self-Love 184 
 
 Price. The distinctions of Right and Wrong are perceived by the 
 Understanding. The Beauty and Deformity of Actions. The 
 feelings have some part in our moral discrimination. Self-Love 
 and Benevolence. Good and ill Desert. Obligation. Divisions of
 
 CONTENTS. 11 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Virtue. Intention as an element in virtuous action. Estimate of 
 degrees of Virtue and Vice 186 
 
 Adam Smith. Illustration of the workings of Sympathy. Mutual 
 sympathy. The Amiable and the Respectable Virtues. How far 
 the several passions are consistent with Propriety. Influences of 
 prosperity and adversity on moral judgments. The Sense of Merit 
 and Demerit. Self-approbation. Love of Praise and of Praise- 
 worthiness. Influence and authority of Conscience. Self-par- 
 tiality ; corrected by the use of General Rules. Connexion of 
 Utility with Moral Approbation. Influence of Custom on the 
 Moral Sentiments. Character of Virtue. Self-command. Opinion 
 regarding the theory of the Moral Sense 205 
 
 Hakilet. Account of Disinterestedness. The Moral Sense a pro- 
 duct of Association 219 
 
 Ferguson. (Xote) 219 
 
 Reid. Duty not to be resolved into Interest. Conscience an ori- 
 ginal power of the mind. Axiomatic first principles of Morals. 
 Objections to the theory of Utility ib, 
 
 Stewart. The Moral Faculty an original power. Criticism of 
 opposing views. Moral Obligation : connexion with Religion. 
 Duties. Happiness: classification of pleasures 225 
 
 Brown. Moral approbation a simple emotion of the mind. Univer- 
 sality of moral distinctions. Objections to the theory of Utility. 
 Disinterested sentiment 232 
 
 Paley. The Moral Sense not int'.rtive. Happiness. Virtue : its 
 definition. Moral Obligation resolved into the command of God. 
 Utility a criterion of the Divine Will. Utility requires us to con- 
 sider ^rcnera? consequences. Rights. Duties 237 
 
 Bextham. Utility the sole foundation of Morals. Principles adverse 
 to Utility. The Four Sanctions of Right. Comparative estimate 
 of Pleasures and Pains. Classification of Pleasures and Pains. 
 Merit and Demerit. Pleasures and pains viewed as Motives : some 
 motives are Social or tutelary, others Dissocial or Self-regarding. 
 Dispositions. The consequences of a mischievous act. Punish- 
 ment. Private Ethics (Prudence) and Legislation distinguished; 
 their respective spheres 24$ 
 
 Mackintosh. Universality of Moral Distinctions. Antithesis or 
 Reason and Passion. It is not virtuous acts but virtuous disposi- 
 tions that outweigh the pains of self-sacrifice. The moral senti- 
 ments have for their objects Dispositions. Utility. Development 
 of Conscience through Association ; the constituents are Gratitude, 
 Sympathy, Resentment and Shame, together with Education. Re- 
 ligion must presuppose Morality. Objections to Utility criticised.
 
 12 CONTENTS. 
 
 FAGB 
 
 Duties to ourselves, an improper expression. Reference of moral 
 sentiments to the Will 256 
 
 James Mill. Primary constituents of the Moral Faculty — pleasu- 
 rable and painful sensations. The Causes of these sensations. The 
 Ideas of them, and of their causes. Hope, Fear; Love, Joy; 
 Hatred, Aversion. Remote causes of pleasures and pains- 
 Wealth, Power, Dignity, and their opposites. Affections towards 
 our fellow-creatures — Friendship, Kindness, &c. Motives. Dis- 
 positions. Applications to the virtue of Prudence. Justice — by 
 what motives supported. Beneficence. Importance in moral 
 training, of Praise and Blame, and their associations ; the Moral 
 Sanction. Derivation of Disinterested Feelings 265 
 
 Austin. Laws defined and classified. The Divine Laws ; how are 
 we to know the Divine Will ? Utility the sole criterion. Objec- 
 tions to Utility. Criticism of the theory of a Moral Sense. Pre- 
 vailing misconceptions as to Utility. Nature of Law resumed and 
 illustrated. Impropriety of the term * law ' as applied to the ope- 
 rations of Nature 2*71 
 
 Whewell. Opposing schemes of Morality. Proposal to reconcile 
 them. There are some actions Universally approved. A Supreme 
 Rule of Right to be arrived at by combining partial rules : these 
 are obtained from the nature of our faculties. The rule of Speech 
 is Truth ; Property supposes Justice ; the Affections indicate Hu- 
 manity. It is a self-evident maxim that the Lower parts of our 
 nature are governed by the Higher. Classification of Springs of 
 Action. Disinterestedness. Classific<ition of Moral Rules. Divi- 
 sion of Rights 278 
 
 Ferrier. Question of the Moral Sense : errors on both sides. Sym- 
 pathy passes beyond feeling, and takes in Thought or self-con- 
 sciousness. Happiness has two ends — the maintenance of man's 
 Rational nature, and Pleasure 284 
 
 Mansel. The conceptions of Right and Wrong are sui generis. The 
 moral law can have no authority unless emanating from a lawgiver. 
 The Standard is the moral nature, and not the arbitrary will, of 
 God 28i 
 
 John Stuart Mill, Explanation of what Utilitarianism consists in. 
 Reply to objections against setting up Happiness as the Ethical 
 end. Ultimate Sanction of the principle of Utility : the External 
 and Internal sanctions ; Conscience how made up. The sort of 
 Proof that Utility is susceptible of: — the evidence that happiness 
 is desirable, is that men desire it ; it is consistent with Utility that 
 virtue should be desired for itself. Connexion between Justice and 
 Utility : — ^meanings of Justice ; essentially grounded in Law ; the
 
 CONTENTS. 13 
 
 PAOB 
 
 sentiments that support Justice, are Self-defence, and Sympathy ; 
 Justice owes its paramount character to the essential of Security ; 
 there are no immutable maxims of Justice 288 
 
 Bailey. Facts of the human constitution that give origin to moral 
 phenomena : — susceptibility to pleasure and pain, and to the causes 
 of them ; reciprocation of these ; our expecting reciprocation from 
 others ; sympathy. Consideration of our feelings in regard to 
 actions done to us by others. Our feelings as spectators of actions 
 done to others by others. Actions done to ourselves by others. 
 The different cases combine to modify each other. Explanation 
 of the discrepancies of the moral sentiment in different communi- 
 ties. The consequences of actions the only criterion for rectifying 
 the diversities. Objections to the happiness-test. The term Utility 
 unsuitable. Disputes as to the origin of moral sentiment in Rea- 
 son or in a Moral Sense 30C 
 
 Spencer. Happiness the ultimate, but not the proximate, end. 
 Moral Science a deduction from the laws of life and the conditions 
 of existence. There have been, and still are, developing in the 
 race, certain fundamental Moral Intuitions. The Expediency- 
 Morality is transitional. Reference to the general theory of Evo- 
 lution 307 
 
 Kant. Distinguishes between the empirical and the rational mode 
 of treating Ethics. Nothing properly good, except Will. Sub- 
 jection of Will to Reason. An action done from natural inclina- 
 tion is worthless morally. Duty is respect for Law ; conformity 
 to Law is the one principle of volition. Moral Law not ascertain- 
 able empirically, it must originate a priori in pure (practical) Rea- 
 son. The Hypothetical and Categorical Imperatives. Imperative 
 of Prudence. Imperative of Morality. The formula of Morality. 
 The ends of Morality. The Rational nature of man is an end-in- 
 itself. The Will the source of its own laws — the Autonomy of the 
 Will. The Reason of Ends. Morality alone has intrinsic Worth 
 or Dignity. Principles founded on the Heteronomy of the Will — 
 Happiness, Perfection. Duty legitimized by the conception of the 
 Freedom of the Will, properly understood. Postulates of the pure 
 Practical Reason — Freedom, Immortality, God. Summary 311 
 
 Cousin. Analysis of the sentiments aroused in us by human actions. 
 The Moral Sentiment made up of a variety of moral judgments — 
 Good and Evil, Obligation, Liberty, Merit and Demerit. Virtue 
 brings Happiness. Moral Satisfaction and Remorse. The Law ot 
 Duty is conformity to Reason. The characteristic of Reason is 
 Universality. Classification of Duties : — Duties to Self ; to Others 
 — Truth, Justice, Charity. Application to Politics 326
 
 14 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 JouFFROY. Each creature has a special nature, and a special end. 
 Man has certain primary passions to be satisfied. Secondary pas- 
 sions — the Useful, the Good, •Happiness. All the faculties con- 
 trolled by the Reason. The End of Interest. End of Universal 
 Order. Morality the expression of divine thought ; identified with 
 the beautiful and the true. The moral law and self-interest coin- 
 cide. Boundaries of the three states — Passion, Egoism, Moral 
 determination 832
 
 ETHICS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE THEOEY OF ETHICS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PRELIMINARY VIEW OF ETHICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 As a preface to the account of the Ethical Systems, and a 
 principle of arrangement, for the better comparing of them, 
 we shall review in order the questions that arise in the dis- 
 cussion. 
 
 I. First of all is the question as to the Ethical Standard. 
 "What, in the last resort, is the test, criterion, umpire, appeal, 
 or Standard, in determining Right and \Vrong ? In the con- 
 crete language of Palej, Why am I obliged to keep my word ? 
 The answer to this is the Theory of Right and Wrong, the 
 essential part of every Ethical System. 
 
 We may quote the leading answers, as both explaining 
 and summarizing the chief question of Ethics, and more espe- 
 cially of Modern Ethics. 
 
 1. It is alleged that the arbitrary Will of the Deity, as 
 expressed in the Bible, is the ultimate standard. On this 
 view anything thus commanded is right, whatever be its conse- 
 quences, or however it may clash with our sentiments and 
 reasonings. 
 
 2. It was maintained by Hobbes, that the Sovereign, 
 acting under his responsibility to God, is the sole arbiter of 
 Right and Wrong. As regards Obligatory Morality, this
 
 16 PEELIMINARY VIEW OF ETHICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 seems at first sight an identical proposition ; morality is an- 
 other name for law and sovereignty. In the view of Hobbes, 
 however, the sovereign should be a single person, of absolute 
 authority, humanly irresponsible, and irremoveable ; a type of 
 sovereignty repudiated by civilized nations. 
 
 3. It has been held, in various phraseology, that a certain 
 fitness, suitability, or propriety in actions, as determined by our 
 Understanding or Reason, is the ultimate test. When a man 
 keeps his word, there is a certain congruity or consistency 
 between the action and the occasion, between the making of 
 a promise and its fulfilment ; and wherever such congruity 
 is discernible, the action is right. This is the view of Cud- 
 worth, Clarke, and Price. It may be called the Intellectual 
 or Rational theory. 
 
 A special and more abstract form of the same theory is 
 presented in the dictum of Kant — ' act in such a way that 
 your conduct might be a law to all beings.' 
 
 4. It is contended, that the human mind possesses an in- 
 tuition or instinct, whereby we feel or discern at once the 
 right from the wrong ; a view termed the doctrine of the 
 Moral Sense, or Moral Sentiment. Besides being sup- 
 ported by numerous theorizers in Ethics, this is the prevailing 
 and popular doctrine ; it underlies most of the language of 
 moral suasion. The difficulties attending the stricter inter- 
 pretation of it have led to various modes of qualifying and 
 explaining it, as will afterwards appear. Shaftesbury and 
 Hutcheson are more especially identified with the enunciation 
 of this doctrine in its modern aspect. 
 
 5. It was put forth by Mandeville that Self-interest is the 
 only test of moral rightness. Self-preservation is the first 
 law of being ; and even when we are labouring for the good of 
 others, we are still having regard to our own interest. 
 
 6. The theory called Utility, and Utilitarianism, supposes 
 that the well-being or happiness of mankind is the sole end, 
 and ultimate standard of morality. The agent takes account 
 both of his own happiness and of the happiness of others, 
 subordinating, on proper occasions, the first to the second. 
 This theory is definite in its opposition to all the others, but 
 admits of considerable latitude of view within itself. Stoicism 
 and Epicureanism are both included in its compass. 
 
 The two last-named theories — Self-interest, and Utility or 
 the Common Well-Being, have exclusive regard to the con- 
 sequences of actions ; the others assig^n to consequences a 
 Babordinate position. The terms External and Dependent
 
 PSYCHOLOGICAL QUESTIONS. 17 
 
 are also used to express the reference to Happiness as the 
 end : Internal and Independent are the contrasting epithets. 
 
 11. Ethical Theory embraces certain questions of pure 
 Psychology. 
 
 1. The Psychological nature of Conscience, the Moral 
 Sense, or by whatever name we designate the faculty of dis- 
 tinguishing right and wrong, together with the motive power 
 to follow the one and eschew the other. That such a faculty 
 exists is admitted. The question is, what is its place and 
 origin in the mind ? 
 
 On the one side, Conscience is held to be a unique and 
 ultimate power of the mind, like the feeling of Resistance, the 
 sense of Taste, or the consciousness of Agreement. On the 
 other side, Conscience is viewed as a growth or derivation 
 from other recognized properties of the mind. The Theory of 
 the Standard (4) called the doctrine of the Moral Sense, pro- 
 ceeds upon the first view ; on that theory, the Standard and 
 the Faculty make properly but one question. All other 
 theories are more or less compatible with the composite or 
 derivative nature of Conscience ; the supporters of Utility, in 
 particular, adopt this alternative. 
 
 2. A second Psychological question, regarded by many 
 (notably by Kant) as vilally implicated in Moral Obligation, 
 is the Freedom of the Will. The history of opinion on this 
 subject has been in great part already given. 
 
 3. Thirdly, It has been debated, on Psychological grounds, 
 whether our Benevolent ac<^ions (which all admit) are ulti- 
 mately modes of self-regard, or whether there be, in the 
 human mind, a source of pui*ely Disinterested conduct. The 
 first view, or the relerence of benevolence to Self, admits 
 of degrees and varieties of statement. 
 
 (1) It may be held that in peri'oi*ming good actions, we 
 expect and obtain an immediate reward fully equivalent 
 to the sacrifice made. Occasionally we are rewarded in 
 kind ; but the reward most usually forthcoming (according to 
 Mandeville), is praise or flattery, to which the human mind 
 is acutely sensitive. 
 
 (2) Our constitution may be such that we are pained by 
 the sight of an object in distress, and give assistance, to 
 relieve ourselves of the pain. This was the view of Hobbes ; 
 and it is also admitted by Mandeville as a secondary motive. 
 
 (3) We may be so formed as to derive enjoyment from 
 the performance of acts of kindness, in the same immediate 
 way that we are gratified by warmth, flowers, or music ; we
 
 18 PRELIMINARY VIEW OF ETHICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 should thus be moved to benevolence by an intrinsic pleasure, 
 and not by extraneous consequences. 
 
 Bentham speaks of the pleasui^es aud the pains of Benevo- 
 lence, meaning that we derive pleasure from causing pleasure 
 to others, and pain from the sight of pain in others. 
 
 (4) It may be affirmed that, although we have not by 
 nature any purely disinterested impulses, these are generated 
 in us by associations and habits, in a manner similar to the 
 conversion of means into final ends, as in the case of money. 
 This is the view propounded by James Mill, and by Mackintosh. 
 
 Allowance being made for a certain amount of fact in 
 these various modes of connecting Benevolence with self, it is 
 still maintained in the present work, as by Butler, Hume, 
 Adam Smith, and others, that human beings are (although 
 very unequally) endowed with a prompting to relieve the 
 pains and add to the pleasures of others, irrespective of all 
 self-regarding considerations ; and that such prompting is 
 not a product of associations with self. 
 
 In the ancient world, purely disinterested conduct was 
 abundantly manifested in practice, although not made promi- 
 nent in Ethical Theory. The enumeration of the Cardinal 
 Virtues does not expressly contain Benevolence ; but under 
 Courage, Self-sacrifice was implied. Patriotic Self-devotion, 
 Love, and Friendship were virtues highly cultivated. In 
 Cicero, Seneca, and Marcus Aurelius, there is a recognition of 
 general Benevolence. 
 
 The two heads now sketched — The Standard and the 
 Psychology of our Moral nature — almost entirely exhaust 
 modern Ethics. Smith, Stewart, and Mackintosh agree in 
 laying down as the points in dispute these two ; — First, What 
 does virtue consist in ? Secondly, What is the power or 
 faculty of the mind that discovers and enforces it ? 
 
 These two positions, however, are inadequate as regards 
 Ajicient Ethics. For remedying the deficiency, and for bring- 
 ing to light matters necessary to the completeness of an 
 Ethical survey, we add the following heads : — 
 
 HI. The Theory of what constitutes the Supreme End of 
 Life, the Bonum or the Summum Bonum. The question as to 
 the highest End has divided the Ethical Schools, both ancient 
 and modern. It was the point at issue between the Stoics 
 and the Epicureans. That Happiness is not the highest end 
 has been averred, in modern times, by Butler and others : the 
 opposite position is held by the supporters of Utility. What 
 may be called the severe and ascetic systems (theoretically)
 
 CLASSIFIC4TT0N OF DUTIES. 19 
 
 refuse to sanction any pursnit of happiness or pleasure, except 
 through virtue, or duty to others. The view practically pro- 
 ceeded upon, now and in most ages, is that virtue discharges 
 a man's obligations to his fellows, which being accomplished, 
 he is then at liberty to seek what pleases himself. (For the 
 application of the laws of mind to the theory of Happiness, 
 see Appendix C.) 
 
 IV.-TJie Classification of Dqties is characteristic of differ- 
 ent systems and different authors. The oldest scheme is the 
 Four Cardinal Virtues — Prudence, Courage, Temperance, 
 Justice. The modern Christian moralists usually adopt the 
 division — Duties to God, to Others, to Self. 
 
 Moreover, there are differences in the substance of Morality 
 itself, or the things actually imposed. The code under Chris- 
 tianity has varied both from Judaism and from Paganism. 
 
 y.-The relationship of Ethics to Politics is close, while 
 the points of difference of the two are also of great import- 
 ance. In Plato the two subjects were inseparable ; and in 
 Aristotle, they were blended to excess. Hobbes also joined 
 Ethics and Politics in one system. (See Chap, ii., § 3.) 
 
 VI.- The relation of Ethics to Theology is variously repre- 
 sented in modern systems. The Fathers and the Schoolmen 
 accepted the authority of the Bible chiefly on tradition, and 
 did not venture to sit in judgment on the substance of the 
 revelation. They, therefore, rested their Ethics exclusively 
 on the Bible ; or, at most, ventured upon giving some mere 
 supplement of its precepts. 
 
 Others, in more modern times, have considered that the 
 moral character of a revelation enters into the evidence in its 
 favour ; whence, morality must be considered as independent, 
 and exclusively human, in its origin. It would be reasoning 
 in a circle to derive the mural law from the bible, and then to 
 prove the bible from the moral law. 
 
 Religion superadds its own sanction to the moral duties, 
 so far as adopted by it ; laying especial stress upon select pre- 
 cepts. It likewise calls into being a distinct code of duties, 
 the religious duties strictly so called; wbich have no force 
 except with believers. The ' duties to God,' in the modem 
 classification, are religious, as distinguished from moral 
 duties.
 
 20 THE ETHICAL STANDARD. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 THE ETHICAL STANDARD. 
 
 1. Ethics, or Morality, is a department of Practice ; 
 and, as with other practical departments, is defined by 
 its End. 
 
 Ethics is not mere knowledge or speculation, like the 
 sciences of Astronomy, Physiology, or Psychology ; it is 
 knowledge applied to practice, or useful ends, like Navigation, 
 Medicine, or Politics. Every practical subject has some end 
 to be served, the statement of which is its definition in the 
 first instance. Navigation is the applying of difierent kinds 
 of knowledge, and of a variety of devices, to the end of sailing 
 the seas. 
 
 2. The Ethical End is a certain portion of the welfare 
 of human beings living together in society, realized through 
 rules of conduct duly enforced. 
 
 The obvious intention of morality is the good of mankind. 
 The precepts — do not steal, do not kill, fulfil agreements, 
 speak truth — whatever other reasons may be assigned for them, 
 have a direct tendency to prevent great evils that might other- 
 wise arise in the intercourse of human beings. 
 
 Farther, the good aimed at by Ethics is attained by rules 
 of acting, on the part 'of one human being to another; and, 
 inasmuch as these rules often run counter to the tendencies 
 of the individual mind, it is requisite to provide adequate iri' 
 duceraents to comply with them. 
 
 The Ethical End is what is otherwise called the Standard, 
 test, or criterion, of Right and Wrong. The leading contro- 
 versy of Morals is centered in this point. 
 
 3. The Rules of Ethics, termed also Law, Laws, the 
 Moral Law, are of two kinds : — 
 
 The first are rules imposed under a Penalty for ne- 
 glect, or violation. The penalty is termed Punishment ; 
 the imposing party is named Government, or Authority ; 
 and the rules so imposed and enforced, are called Laws 
 proper, Morality proper. Obligatory Morality, Duty.
 
 MORAL RULES ENFORCED BY PENALTIES. 21 
 
 4. The second are rules whose only external support is 
 Reivards ; constituting Optional Morality, Merit, Virtue, 
 or Nobleness. 
 
 Moral duties are a set of rules, precepts, or prescriptions, 
 for the direction of human conduct in a certain sphere or pro- 
 vince. These rules are enforced by two kinds of motives, 
 requiring to be kept distinct. 
 
 I.-One class of rules are made compulsory by the infliction 
 of pain, in the case of violation or neglect. The pain so in- 
 flicted is termed a Penalty, or Punishment ; it is one of the 
 most familiar experiences of all human beings living in 
 society. 
 
 The Institution that issues Rules of this class, and inflicts 
 punishment when they are not complied with, is termed Go- 
 vernment, or Authority ; all its rules are authoritative, or 
 obligatory ; they are Laws strictly so called, Laws proper. 
 Punishment, Government, Authority, Superiority, Obligation, 
 Law, Duty, — define each other ; they are all difierent modes 
 of regarding the same fact. 
 
 Morality is thus in every respect analagous to Civil Go- 
 vernment, or the Law of the Land. Nay, farther, it squares, 
 to a very great extent, with Political Authority. The points 
 where the two coincide, and those where they do not coincide, 
 may be briefly stated : — 
 
 (1) All the most essential parts of Morality are adopted 
 and carried out by the Law of the Land. The rules for pro- 
 tecting person and property, for fulfilling contracts, for per- 
 forming reciprocal duties, are rules or laws of the State ; and 
 are enforced by the State, through its own machinery. The 
 penalties inflicted by public authority constitute what is called 
 the Political Sanction ; they are the most severe, and the most 
 strictly and dispassionately administered, of all penalties. 
 
 (2) There are certain Moral duties enforced, not by 
 public and official authority, but by the members of the com- 
 munity in their private capacity. These are sometimes called 
 the Laws of Honour, because they are punished by withdraw- 
 ing from the violator the honour or esteem of his fellow- 
 citizens. Courage, Prudence as regards self, Chastity, Ortho- 
 doxy of opinion, a certain conformity in Tastes and Usages, — 
 are all prescribed by the mass of each community, to a greater 
 or less extent, and are insisted on under penalty of social dis- 
 grace and excommunication. This is the Social or the Popu- 
 lar Sanction. The department so marked out, being distinct
 
 22 THE ETHICAL STANDARD. 
 
 from the Political sphere, is called, by Austin, Positive 
 Morality, or Morality proper. 
 
 Public opinion also chimes in with the Law, and adds its 
 own sanction to the legal penalties for offences : unless the 
 law happens to be in conflict with the popular sentiment. 
 Criminals, condemned by the law, are additionally punished 
 by social disgrace. 
 
 (3) The Law of the Land contains many enactments, be- 
 sides the Moral Code and the machinery for executing it. 
 The Province of government passes beyond the properly pro- 
 tective function, and includes many institutions of public con- 
 venience, which are not identified with right and wrong. 
 The defence from external enemies ; the erection of works of 
 public utility ; the promotion of social improvements, — are 
 all within the domain of the public authority.* 
 
 IL-The second class of Rules are supported, not by penal- 
 ties, but by Rewards. Society, instead of punishing men for 
 not being charitable or benevolent, praises and otherwise 
 rewards them, when they are so. Hence, although Morality 
 inculcates benevolence, this is not a Law proper, it is not 
 obligatory, authoritative, or binding ; it is purely voluntary, 
 and is termed merit, virtuous and noble conduct. 
 
 In this department, the members of the community, in 
 their unofficial capacity, are the chief agents and administra- 
 tors. The Law of the Land occupies itself with the enforce- 
 ment of its own obligatory rules, having at its command a 
 perfect machinery of punishment. Private individuals ad- 
 
 * Duties strictly so called, the department of obligatory morality, en- 
 forced by punishment, may be exemplified in the following classified 
 summary : — 
 
 Under the Legal Sanction, are included ; (A) Forbearance from 
 (specified) injuries; as («) Intentional injury— crimes, (b) Injury not inten- 
 tional — wrongs, repaired by Damages or Compensation. (B) The ren- 
 dering of services ; («) Fulfilling contracts or agreements ; {h) Recipro- 
 cating anterior services rendered, though not requested, as in filial duty ; 
 (c) Cases of extreme or superior need, as parental duty, relief of destitution. 
 
 Under the Popular Sanction are created duties on such points as the 
 following: — (I) The Etiquette of small societies or coteries. (2) Reli- 
 gious orthodoxy ; Sabbath observance. (3) Unchastity ; violations of the 
 etiquette of the sexes, Immodesty, and whatever endangers chastity, 
 especially in women. (4) Duties of parents to children, and of children 
 to parents, beyond the requirements of the law, (o) Suicide: when only 
 attempted, the individual is punished, when carried out, the relatives. 
 (6) Drunkenness, and neglect of the means of self-support. (7) Gross 
 Inhumanity. In all these cases the sanction, or punishment, is social ; 
 and is either mere disapprobation or dislike, not issuing in overt acts, ot 
 exclusion from fellowship and the good offices consequent thereoa.
 
 MORAL RULES SUPPORTED BY REWARDS. 23 
 
 minister praise, honour, esteem, approbation, and reward. In 
 a few instances, the Government dispenses rewards, as in 
 the bestowal of office, rank, titles, and pensions, but this 
 function is exceptional and limited. 
 
 The conduct rewarded by Society is chiefly resolvable into 
 Beneficence. Whoever is moved to incur sacrifices, or to go 
 through labours, for the good of others, is the object, not 
 merely of gratitude from the persons benefited, but of appro- 
 bation from society at large. 
 
 Any remarkable strictness or fidelity in the discharge of 
 duties properly so called, receives general esteem. Even in 
 matters merely ceremonial, if importance be attached to 
 them, sedulous and exact compliance, being the distinction of 
 the few, will earn the approbation of the many.* 
 
 5. The Ethical End, or Morality, as it Juts been, is 
 founded partly on Well-being, or Utility : and partly on 
 Sentiment. 
 
 The portions of Morality, having in view the prevention of 
 human misery and the promotion of human happiness, are 
 known and obvious. They are not the whole of Morality as 
 it has been. 
 
 ♦ Optional Morality, the Morality of Reward, is exempHfied as fol- 
 
 (A) A liberal performance of duties properly so called, (a) The 
 support of aged parents ; this, though to a certain extent a legal duty, 
 is still more a \nrtue, being stimulated by the approbation of one's fel- 
 lows. The performance of the family duties generally is the subject of 
 commendation, (b) The payment of debts that cannot be legally re- 
 covered, as in the case of bankrupts after receiving their discharge. 
 
 These examples typify cases (1) where no definite law is laid down, 
 or where the law is content with a minimum; and (2) where the law is 
 restrained by its rules of evidence or procedure. Society, in such cases, 
 steps in and'supplies a motive in the shape of reward. 
 
 (B) Pure Virtue, or Beneficence ; all actions for the benefit of others 
 without stipulation, and without reward ; relief of distress, promotion cf 
 the good of individuals or of society at large. The highest honours of 
 Bociety are called into exercise by the highest services. 
 
 Bentham's principle of the claims of superior need cannot be fully 
 carried out, (although he conceives it might, in some cases), by either the 
 legal or the popular sanction. Thus, the act of the good Samaritan, the 
 rescue of a ship's crew from drowning, could not be exacted ; the law oan- 
 n 't require heroism. It is of importance to remark, that although Duty 
 and Nobleness, Punishment and Reward, are in their extremes unmis- 
 takably contrasted, yet there may be a margin of doubt or ambiguity 
 (like the passing of day into night). Thus, expressed approbation, 
 generally speaking, belongs to Reward; yet, if it has become a thing of 
 course, the withholding of it operates as a Punishment or a Penalty.
 
 ^^ THE ETHICAL STANDAED. 
 
 Sentiment, caprice, arbitrary liking or disliking, », 
 names for states of feeling that do not necessarily arise froi 
 their objects, but may be joined or disjoined by educatioi 
 cnstom, or the power of the will. The revulsion of minu 
 on the part of the Jews, against eating the pig, and on ou^ 
 own part, as regards horse flesh, is not a primitive or natura 
 sensibihty, like the pain of hunger, or of cold, or of a musica 
 discord; it is purely artificial; custom has made it, anc 
 could unmake it. The feeling of fatigue from overwork is 
 natural ; the repugnance of caste to manual labour is facti- 
 tious. The dignity attached to the military profession, anc 
 the indignity of the office of public executioner, are capricious 
 arbitrary, and sentimental. Our prospective regard to tU 
 comforts of our declining years points to a real interest ; oui 
 feelings as to the disposal of the body after death are purely 
 factitious and sentimental. Such feelings are of the things 
 in our own power ; and the grand mistake of the Stoics was 
 their viewing all good and evil whatever in the same light. 
 
 It is an essential part of human liberty, to permit each 
 person to form and to indulge these sentiments or caprices : 
 although a good education should control them with a view 
 to our happiness on the whole. But, when any individual 
 hkmg or fancy of this description is imposed as a law upon 
 the entire community, it is a perversion and abuse of power, 
 a confounding of the Ethical end by foreign admixtures. 
 Thus, to enjoin authoritatively one mode of sepulture, punish* 
 mg all deviations from that, could have nothing to do with 
 the preservation of the order of society. In such a matter, 
 the interference of the state in modern times, has regard to 
 the detection of crime in the matter of life and death, and to 
 the evils arising from the putrescence of the dead. 
 
 6. The Ethical End, although properly confined to 
 Utility, is subject to still farther limitations, according to 
 the view taken of the Province of Moral Government^ or 
 Authorit}^ 
 
 Although nothing should be made morally obligatory but 
 what is generally useful, the converse does not hold ; many 
 kinds of conduct are generally useful, but not morally obliga- 
 tory. A certain amount of bodily exercise in the open air 
 every day would be generally useful ; but neither the law of 
 the land nor public opinion compels it. Good roads are works 
 of great utility ; it is not every one's duty to make them. 
 
 The machinery of coercion is not brought to bear upon
 
 DIFFERENCE OF BEING AND WELL-BEING. 25 
 
 every conceivable utility. It is principally reserved, when 
 not abused, for a select class of utilities. 
 
 Some utilities are indispensable to the very existence of 
 men in society. The primary moral duties must be observed 
 to some degree, if men are to live together as men, and not to 
 roam at large as beasts. The interests of Security are the 
 first and most pressing concern of human society. Whatever 
 relates to this has a surpassing importance. Security is 
 contrasted with Improvement ; what relates to Security is 
 declared to be Right ; what relates to Improvement is said to 
 be Expedient ; both are forms of Utility, but the one is press- 
 ing and indispensable, the other is optional. The same differ- 
 ence is expressed by the contrasts — Being and Well-being ; 
 Existence and Prosperous Existence ; Fundamentals or Essen- 
 tials and Circumstantials. That the highway robber should 
 be punished is a part of Being ; that the highways should be in 
 good repair, is a part of Well-being. That Justice should be 
 done is Existence ; that farmers and traders should give in to 
 government the statistics of their occupation, is a means to 
 Prosperous Existence.* 
 
 It is proper to advert to one sj)ecific influence in moral enact- 
 ments, serving to disguise the Ethical end, and to widen the dis- 
 tinction between moraHty as it has been, and morality as it ought 
 to be. The enforcing of legal and moral enactments demands a 
 'power of coercion, to be lodged in the hands of certain persons ; 
 the possession of which is a temptation to exceed the strict 
 exigencies of public safety, or the common welfare. Probably 
 many of the whims, fancies, ceremonies, Kkings and antipathies, 
 that have found their way into the moral codes of nations, have 
 arisen from the arbitrary disposition of certain individuals happen- 
 ing to be in authority at particular junctures. Even the general 
 community, acting in a spontaneous manner, imposes needless 
 restraints upon itself, delighting more in the exercise of power, 
 than in the freedom of individual action. 
 
 * The conditions that regulate the authoritative enforcement of 
 actions, are exhaustively p^iven in works on Jurisprudence, but they do 
 not all concern Ethical Theory. The expedience of imposing a rule 
 depends on the importance of the ohji ct compared with the cost of the 
 machinery. A certain line of conduct may be highly beneficial, hut may 
 not he a fit case for coercion. For example, the law can enforce only a 
 niimmum of service : now, if the case be such that a minimum is useless, 
 as in helping a ship in distress, or in supporting aged parents, it is much 
 better to leave the case to voluntary impulses, seconded by approbation 
 or reward. Again, an oflfpnce punished by law must be, in its nature, 
 definable ; which makes a difiiculty in such cases as insult, and defamation, 
 and many species of fraud. Farth. r, the ofience must be easy of detection, 
 so that the vast majority of ofienders may not escape. This limits the 
 action of the law in unchastity. 
 2
 
 26 THE ETHICAL STANDARD. 
 
 7. Morality, in its essential parts, is ' Eternal and Im* 
 mutable ;' in other parts, it varies with Cnstom. 
 
 (1) The rules for protecting one man from another, for 
 enforcing justice, and the observance of contracts, are essen- 
 tial and fundamental, and may be styled ' Eternal and Im- 
 mutable.' The ends to be served require these rules ; no 
 caprice of custom could change them without sacrificing those 
 ends. They are to society what food is to individual life, or 
 sexual intercourse and mother's care to the continuance of the 
 race. The primary moralities could not be exchanged for rules 
 enacting murder, pillage, injustice, unveracity, repudiation of 
 engagements; because under these rules, human society would 
 fall to pieces. 
 
 (2) The manner of carrying into effect these primary 
 regulations of society, varies according to Custom. In some 
 communities the machinery is rude and imperfect ; while 
 others have greatly improved it. The Greeks took the lead 
 in advancing judicial machinery, the Romans followed. 
 
 In the regulations not essential to Being, but important to 
 Well-being, there has prevailed the widest discrepancy of 
 usage. The single department relating to the Sexes is a suffi- 
 cient testimony on this head. No one form of the family is 
 indispensable to the existence of society ; yet some forms are 
 more favourable to general happiness than others. But 
 which form is on the whole the best, has greatly divided 
 opinion; and legislation has varied accordingly. The more 
 advanced nations have adopted compulsory monogamy, thereby 
 giving the prestige of their authority in favour of that system. 
 But it cannot be affirmed that the joining of one man to one 
 woman is a portion of ' Eternal and Immutable Morality.' 
 
 Morality is an Institution of society, but not an arbitrary 
 institution. 
 
 8. Before adducing the proofs in support of the posi- 
 tion above assumed, namely, that Utility or Human 
 Happiness, with certain limitations, is the froper criterion 
 of Morality, it is proper to enquire, what sort of evidence 
 the Ethical Standard is susceptible of. 
 
 Hitherto, the doctrine of Utility has been assumed, in 
 order to be fully stated. We must next review the evidence 
 in its favour, and the objections urged against it. It is desir- 
 able, however, to ask what kind of proof should be expected 
 on such a question.
 
 WHAT IS THE PROOF OF THE STANDARD ? 27 
 
 In the Speculative or Theoretical sciences, we prove a doc- 
 trine by referring it to some other doctrine or doctrines, until 
 we come at last to some assumption that must be rested in as 
 ultimate or final. We can prove tlie propositions of Euclid, 
 the law of gravitation, the law of atomic proportions, the law 
 of association ; we cannot prove our present sensations, nor 
 can we demonstrate that what has been, will be. The ultimate 
 data must be accepted as self-evident ; they have no hi^rher 
 authority than that mankind -'enerally are disposed to accept 
 them. 
 
 In the practical Sciences, the question is not as to a prin- 
 ciple of the order of nature, but as to an end of human action. 
 There may be derived Ends, which are susceptible of demon- 
 strative proof; but there must also be ultimate Ends, for 
 which no proof can be offered; they must be received as 
 self-evident, and their sole authority is the person receiving 
 them. In most of the practical sciences, the ends are derived; 
 the end of Medicine is Health, which is an end subsidiary to 
 the final end of human happiness. So it is with Navigation, 
 with Politics, with Education, and others. In all of them, we 
 recognize the bearing upon human welfare, or happiness, as a 
 common, comprehensive, and crowning end. On the theory 
 of Utility, Morals is also governed by this highest end. 
 
 Now, there can be no proof offered for the position that 
 Happiness is the proper end of all human pursuit, the cri- 
 terion of all right conduct. It is an ultimate or final assump- 
 tion, to be tested by reference to the individual judgment of 
 mankind. If the assumption, that misery, and not happiness, 
 is the proper end of life, found supporters, no one could reply, 
 for want of a basis of argument— an assumption still more 
 fundamental agreed upon ^by both sides. It would probably 
 be the case, that the supporters of misery, as an end, would be 
 at some point inconsistent with themselves; which would lay 
 them open to refutation. But to any one consistently main- 
 taining the position, there is no possible reply, because there 
 is no medium of proof. 
 
 If then, it appears, on making the appeal to mankind, that 
 happiness is admitted to be the highest end of all action, the 
 theory of Ut.lity is proved. 
 
 9. The judgment of Mankind is very generally in 
 favour of Happiness, as the supreme end of human con- 
 duct, Morality included. 
 
 This decision, however, is not given without qualifica-
 
 28 THE ETHICAL STANDARD. 
 
 tions and reservations ; nor is there perfect unanimity 
 regarding it. 
 
 The theory of Motives to the Will is the answer to the 
 question as to the ends of human action. According to the 
 primary law of the Will, each one of us, for ourselves, seeks 
 pleasure and avoids pain, present or prospective. The prin- 
 ciple is interfered with by the operation of Fixed Ideas, under 
 the influence of the feelings ; whence we have the class of 
 Impassioned, Exaggerated, Irjational Motives or Ends. Of 
 these influences, one deserves to be signalized as a source of 
 virtuous conduct, and as approved of by mankind generally; 
 that is. Sympathy with others. 
 
 Under the Fixed Idea, may be ranked the acquired sense 
 of Dignity, which induces us often to forfeit pleasure and 
 incur pain. We should not choose the life of Plato's beatifled 
 oyster, or (to use Aristotle's example) be content with perpetual 
 childhood, with however great a share of childish happiness. 
 
 10. The Ethical end that men are tending to, and may 
 ultimately adopt without reservation, is human Welfare, 
 Happiness, or Being and Well-being combined, that is, 
 Utility. 
 
 The evidence consists of such facts as these : — 
 
 (1) By far the greater part of the morality of every age 
 and country has reference to the welfare of society. Even 
 in the most superstitious, sentimental, and capricious despot- 
 isms, a very large share of the enactments, political and moral, 
 consist in protecting one man from another, and in securing 
 justice between man and man. These objects may be badly 
 carried out, they may be accompanied with much oppression 
 of the governed by the governing body, but they are always 
 aimed at, and occasionally secured. Of the Ten Command- 
 ments, four pertain to Religious Worship ; six are Utilitarian, 
 that is, have no end except to ward off evils, and to further 
 the good of mankind. 
 
 (2) The general welfare is at all times considered a 
 strong and adequate justification of moral rules, and is con- 
 stantly adduced as a motive for obedience. The common- 
 places in support of law and morality represent, that if mur- 
 der and theft were to go unpunished, neither life nor property 
 would be safe; men would be in eternal warfare ; industry 
 would perish ; society must soon come to an end. 
 
 There is a strong disposition to support the more purely
 
 HAPPINESS THE ADMITTEI) ETHICAL END. 29 
 
 Bentimental requirements, and even the excesses of mere 
 tyranny, by utilitarian reasons. 
 
 The cumbersome ablutions of oriental nations are defended 
 on the ground of cleanliness. The divine sanctity of kings is 
 held to be an aid to social obedience. Slavery is alleged 
 to have been at one tim.e necessary to break in mankind to 
 industry. Indissoluble marriage arose from a sentiment 
 rather than from utility ; but the arguments, commonly urged 
 in its favour, are utilitarian. 
 
 (3) In new cases, and in cases where no sentiment or 
 passion is called into play, Utility alone is appealed to. In 
 any fresh enactment, at the present day, the good of the com- 
 manity is the only justification that would be listened to. If 
 it were proposed to forbid absolutely the eating of pork in 
 Christian countries, some great public evils would have to be 
 assigned as the motive. Were the fatalities attending the 
 eating of pork, on account of trichinicB^ to become numerous, 
 a.nd unpreventible, there would then be a reason, such as a 
 modern civilized community would consider sufficient, for 
 making the rearing of swine a crime and an immorality. Bat 
 no mere Sentimental or capricious dislike to the pig, on the 
 part of any numl^er of persons, could now procure an enact- 
 ment for disusing that animal. 
 
 (4) There is a gradual tendency to withdraw from the 
 moral code, observances oiiginating purely in sentiment, and 
 having little or no connexion with human welfare. 
 
 We have abandoned the divine sacredness of kings. We 
 no longer consider ourselves morally bound to denounce and 
 extirpate heretics and witches, still less to observe fasts and 
 sacred days. Even in regard to the Christian Sabbath, the 
 opinion is growing in favour of withdrawing both the legal 
 and popular sanction formerly so stringent; while the argu- 
 ments for Sabbath observance are more and more charged 
 with considerations of secular utility. 
 
 Should these considerations be held as adequate to support 
 the proposition advanced, they are decisive in favour of Utility 
 as the Moral Standard that ought to he. Any other standard 
 that may be set up in competition with Utility, must ultimately 
 ground itself on the very same appeal to the opinions and the 
 practice of mankind. 
 
 11. The chief objections urged against Utility as the 
 moral Standard have been in great part anticipated. Still, 
 It is proper to advert to them in detail
 
 30 THE ETHICAL STANDAKD. 
 
 I. — It is maintained that Happiness is not, either in 
 fact or in right, the sole aim of human pursuit ; that meu 
 actually, deliberately, and by conscientious preference, seek 
 other ends. For example, it is affirmed that Virtue is an 
 end in itself, without regard to happiness. 
 
 On this argument it may be observed : — 
 
 (1) It has been abundantly shown in this work, that one 
 part of the foregoing affirmation is strictly true. Men are not 
 urged to action exclusively by their pleasures and their pains. 
 They are urged by other motives, of the impassioned kind ; 
 among which, is to be signalized sympathy with the pains and 
 pleasures of others. If this had been the only instance of action 
 at variance with the regular course of the will, we should be 
 able to maintain that the motive to act is still happiness, but 
 not always the agent's own happiness. We have seen, however, 
 that individuals, not unfrequently, act in opposition both to 
 their own, and to other people's happiness ; as when mastered 
 by a panic, and when worked up into a frenzy of anger or 
 antipathy. 
 
 The sound and tenable position seems to be this : — Human 
 beings, in their best and soberest moods, looking before and 
 after, weighing all the consequences of actions, are generally 
 disposed to regard Happiness, to some bemgs or others, as 
 the proper end of all endeavours. The mother is not exclu- 
 sively bent on her own happiness ; she is upon her child's. 
 Howard abandoned the common pleasures of life for himself, 
 to diminish the misery of fellow creatures. 
 
 (2) It is true that human beings are apt to regai'd Virtue 
 as an end-in-itself, and not merely as a means to happiness as 
 the final end. Bat the fact is fully accounted for on the 
 general law of Association by Contiguity ; there being many 
 other examples of the same kind, as the love of money. 
 Justice, Veracity, and other virtues, are requisite, to some 
 extent, for the existence of society, and, to a still greater 
 extent, for prosperous existence. Under such circumstances, 
 it would certainly happen that the means would participate in 
 the importance of the end, and would even be regarded as an 
 end in itself. 
 
 (3) The great leading duties may be shown to derive their 
 estimation from their bearing upon human welfare. Take 
 lirst, Veracity or Truth. Of all the moral duties, this has 
 most the appearance of being an absolute and independent- 
 requirement. Yet mankind have always approved of do-
 
 VIRTUE NOT AN END IN ITSELF. 81 
 
 ception practised upon an enemy in war, a madman, or a 
 highway robber. Also, secrecy or concealment, even although 
 misinterpreted, is allowed, when it does not cause pernicious 
 results ; and is even enjoined and required in the intercourse 
 of society, in order to prevent serious evils. But an absolute 
 standard of truth is incompatible, even with secrecy or dis- 
 guise ; in departing from the course of perfect openness, or 
 absolute publicity of thought and action, in every possible 
 circumstance, we renounce ideal truth in favour of a com- 
 promised or qualified veracity — a pursuit of truth in subordi- 
 nation to the general w^ell-being of society. 
 
 Still less is there any form of Justice that does not have 
 respect to Utility. If Justice is defined as giving to every one 
 their own, the motive clearly is to prevent misery to individuals. 
 If there were a species of injustice that made no one unhap- 
 pier, we may be quite sure that tribunals would not be set up 
 for enforcing and punishing it. The idea of equality in Jus- 
 tice is seemingly an absolute conception, bu1>, in point of fact, 
 equality is a matter of institution. The children of the same 
 parent are, in certain circumstances, regarded as unequal by 
 the law ; and justice consists in respecting this inequality. 
 
 The virtue of Self-denial, is one that receives the commen- 
 dation of society, and stands high in the morality of reward, 
 bitill, it is a means to an end. The operation of the associat- 
 ing principle tends to raise it above this point to the rank of a 
 final end. And there is an ascetic scheme of life that proceeds 
 upon this supposition ; but the generality of mankind, in 
 practice, if not always in theory, disavow it. 
 
 (4) It is often affirmed by those that regard virtue, and 
 not happiness, as the end, that the two coincide in the long run. 
 Now, not to dwell upon the very serious doubts as to the matter 
 of fact, a universal coincidence without causal connexion is 
 so rare as to be in the last degree improbable. A fiction of 
 this sort was contrived by Leibnitz, under the title of * pre- 
 established harmony ; ' but, among the facts of the universe, 
 there are only one or two cases known to investigation. 
 
 12. II. — It is objected to Utility as the Standard, that 
 the bearings of conduct on general happiness are too 
 numerous to be calculated ; and that even where the cal- 
 culation is possible, people have seldom time to make it. 
 
 (1) It is answered, that the primary moral duties refer to 
 conduct where the consequences are evident and sure. The 
 disregard of Justice and Truth would to an absolute certainty
 
 32 THE ETHICAL STANDARD. 
 
 ^ 
 
 bring about a state of confusion and ruin ; their observance, 
 in any high degree, contributes to raise the standard of 
 well-being. 
 
 In other cases, the calculation is not easy, from the num- 
 ber of opposing considerations. For example, there are two 
 sides to the question, Is dissent morally wrong ? in other 
 words. Ought all opinions to be tolerated ? But if we venture 
 to decide such a question, without the balancing or calculating 
 process, we must follow blindfold the dictates of one or other 
 of the two opposing sentiments, — Love of Power and Love 
 of Liberty. 
 
 It is not necessary that we should go through the process 
 of calculation every time we have occasion to perform a moral 
 act. The calculations have already been performed for all the 
 leading duties, and we have only to apply the maxims to the 
 cases as they arise. 
 
 13. IIL — The principle of Utility, it is said, contains 
 no motives to seek the Happiness of others ; it is essen- 
 tially a form of Self-Love. 
 
 The averment is that Utility is a sufficient motive to pur- 
 sue our own happiness, and the happiness of others as a means 
 to our own ; but it does not afford any purely disinterested 
 impulses ; it is a Selfish theory after all. 
 
 Now, as Utility is, by profession, a benevolent and not a 
 selfish theory, either such profession is insincere, or there must 
 be an obstruction in carrying it out. That the supporters of 
 the theory are insincere, no one has a right to affirm. The 
 only question then is, what are the difficulties opposed by this 
 theory, and not present in other theories (the Moral Sense, for 
 example) to benevolent impulses on the part of individuals ? 
 
 Let us view the objection first as regards the Morality of 
 Obligation, or the duties that bind society together. Of these 
 duties, only a small number aim at positive beneficence ; they 
 are either Protective of one man against another, or they 
 enforce Reciprocity, which is another name for Justice. The 
 chief exception is the requiring of a minimum of charity 
 towards the needy. 
 
 This department of duty is maintained by the force of a 
 certain mixture of prudential and of beneficent considerations, 
 on the part of the majority, and by prudence (as fear of punish- 
 ment) on the part of the minority. But there does not appear 
 to be anything in our professedly Benevolent Theory of Morals 
 to interfere with the small portion of disinterested impulse that
 
 OBJECTIONS TO THE PRINCIPLE OF UTILITY. 33 
 
 IS bound up with prudential regards, in the total of motives con- 
 cerned i« the morahty of social order called the primary or 
 obligatory morality. 
 
 Let us, in the next place, view the objection as regards 
 Optional Morality, where positive beneficence has full play. 
 The principal motive in this department is Reward, in the 
 shape either of benefits or of approbation. Now, there is 
 nothing to hinder the supporters of the standard of Utility 
 from joining in the rewards or commendations bestowed on 
 works of charity and beneficence. 
 
 Again, there is, in the constitution of the mind, a motive 
 superior to reward, namely, Sympathy proper, or the purely 
 Disinterested impulse to alleviate the pains and advance the 
 pleasures of others. This part of the mind is wholly umelji-sh ; 
 it needs no other prompting than the fact that some one is in 
 pain, or may be made hapj)ier by something within the power 
 ot the agent. 
 
 The objectors need to be reminded that Obligatory 
 Morality, which works by punishment, creates a purely selfish 
 motive ; that Optional Morality, in so far as stimulated by 
 Rewaixi, is also selfish ; and that the only source of purely 
 disinterested impulses is in the unprompted Sympathy of the 
 individual mind. If such sympathies exist, and if nothing is 
 done to uproot or paralyze them, they will urge men to do 
 good to others, irrespective of all theories. Good done from 
 any other source or mr-tive is necessarily self-seeking. It is a 
 common remark, with reference to the sanctions of a future 
 life, that they create purely self-regarding motives. Any pro- 
 posal to increase disinterested action by moral obligation con- 
 tains a self-contradiction; it is suicidal. The rich may be 
 made to give half their wealth to the poor; but in as far as 
 they are made to do it, they are not benevolent. Law distrusts 
 generosity and supersedes it. If a man is expected to regard 
 the happiness of others as an end in itself, and not as means 
 to his own happiness, he must be left to his own impulses : 
 ' the quality of mercy is not strained.^ The advocates of 
 Utility may observe non-interference as well as others.
 
 34 THE MORAL FACULTY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE MORAL FACULTY. 
 
 1. The chief question in the Psychology of Ethics is 
 whether the Moral Faculty, or Conscience, be a simple or a 
 complex fact of the mind. 
 
 Practically, it would seem of little importance in what 
 way the moral faculty originated, except with a view to teach 
 us how it m.ay be best strengthened when it happens to be 
 weak. Still, a very great importance has been attached to the 
 view, that it is simple and innate; the supposition being 
 that a higher authority thereby belongs to it. If it arises 
 from mere education, it depends on the teacher for the time 
 being ; if it exists prior to all education, it seems to be the 
 voice of universal nature or of God. 
 
 2. In favour of the simple and intuitive character of 
 Moral Sentiment, it is argued : — 
 
 First, That our judgments of right and wrong are im- 
 mediate and instantaneous. 
 
 On almost all occasions, we are ready at once to pronounce 
 an action right or wrong. We do not need to deliberate or 
 enquire, or to canvass reasons and considerations for and 
 against, in order to declare a murder, a theft, or a lie to be 
 wrong. We are fully armed with the power of deciding all 
 such questions; we do not hesitate, like a person that has to 
 consult a variety of different faculties or interests. Just as 
 we pronounce at once whether the day is light or dark, hot or 
 cold; whether a weight is light or heavy; — we are able to 
 say whether an action is morally right or the opposite. 
 
 3. Secondly, It is a faculty or power belonging to all 
 mankind. 
 
 This was expressed by Cicero, in a famous passage, often j 
 quoted with approbation, by the supporters of innate moral | 
 distinctions. ' There is one true and original law conformable ' 
 to reason and to nature, diffused over all, invariable, eternal, 
 which calls to duty and deters from injustice, &c.'
 
 IS THE MORAL FACULTY AN INTUITION? 35 
 
 4. Thhdly, Moral Sentiment is said to be radically- 
 different in its nature from any other fact or phenomenon 
 of the mind. 
 
 The peculiar state of discriminating right and wrong, 
 involving approbation and disapprobation, is considered to be 
 entirely unlike any other mental element ; and, if so, we are 
 precluded from resolving or analyzing it into simpler modes 
 of feeling, willing, or thinking. 
 
 We have many feeHngs that urge us to act and abstain 
 from acting ; but the prompting of conscience has something 
 peculiar to itself, which has been expressed by the terms right- 
 ness, authority, supremacy. Other motives, — hunger, curi- 
 osity, benevolence, and so on, — have might, this has right. 
 
 So, the Intellect has many occasions for putting forth its 
 aptitudes of discriminating, identifying, remembering ; but 
 the operation of discerning right and wrong is supposed to be 
 a unique employment of those functions. 
 
 5. In reply to these arguments, and in support of the 
 view that the Moral Faculty is complex and derived, the 
 following considerations are urged : — 
 
 First, The Immediateness of a judgment, is no proof 
 of its being innate; long practice or familiarity has the 
 same effect. 
 
 In proportion as we are habituated to any subject, or any 
 class of operations, our decisions are rapid and independent 
 of deliberation. An expert geometer sees at a glance whether 
 a demonstration is correct. In extempore speech, a person 
 has to perform every moment a series of judgments as to the 
 suitability of words to meaning, to grammar, to taste, to effect 
 upon an audience. An old soldier knows in an instant, with- 
 out thought or deliberation, whether a position is sufficiently 
 guarded. There is no greater rapidity in the judgments of right 
 and wrong, than in these acquired professional judgments. 
 
 Moreover, the decisions of conscience are quick only in the 
 simpler cases. It happens not unfrequently that difficult and 
 protracted deliberations are necessary to a moral judgment. 
 
 6. Secondly, The alleged similarity of men's moral 
 judgments in all countries and times holds only to a 
 limited degree. 
 
 The very great differences among different nations, as to 
 what constitutes right and wrong, are too numerous, striking,
 
 36 THE MOEAL FACULTY. 
 
 and serious, not to have been often brought forward in Ethical 
 controversy. Robbery and murder are legalized in whole 
 nations. Macaulay's picture of tbe Highland Chief of former 
 days is not singular in the experience of mankind. 
 
 * His own vassals, indeed, were few in number, but he came of 
 the best blood of the Highlands. He kept up a close connexion 
 with his more powerful kinsmen; nor did they like him the less 
 because he was a robber ; for he never robbed them ; and that 
 robbery, merely as robbery, was a wicked and disgraceful act, had 
 never entered into the mind of any Celtic chief.' 
 
 Various answers have been given by the advocates of 
 innate morality to these serious discrepancies. 
 
 (1) It is maintained that savage or uncultivated nations 
 are not a fair criterion of mankind generally : that as men 
 become more civilized, they approximate to unity of moral 
 sentiment ; and what civilized men agree in, is alone to be 
 taken as the judgment of the race. 
 
 Now, this argument would have great weight, in any dis- 
 cussion as to what is good, useful, expedient, or what is in 
 accordance with the cultivated reason or intelligence of man- 
 kind ; because civilization consists in the exercise of men's 
 intellectual faculties to improve their condition. But in a 
 controversy as to w^hat is given us by nature, — what we 
 possess independently of intelligent search and experience, — 
 the appeal to civilization does not apply. What civilized 
 men agree upon among themselves, as opposed to savages, 
 is likely to be the reverse of a natural instinct ; in other 
 words, something suggested by reason and experience. 
 
 In the next place, counting only civilized races, that is, 
 including the chief European, American, and Asiatic peoples 
 of the present day, and the Greeks and Romans of the ancient 
 world, we still hnd disparities on what are deemed by us 
 fundamental points of moral right and wrong. Polygamy is 
 regarded as right in Turkey, India, and China, and as wrong 
 in England. Marriages that we pronounce incestuous were 
 legitimate in ancient times. The views entertained by Plato 
 and Aristotle as to the intercourse of the sexes are now 
 looked upon with abhorrence. 
 
 (2) It has been replied that, although men differ greatly 
 in what they consider right and wrong, they all agree in 
 possessing some notion of right and wrong. No people are 
 entirely devoid of moral judgments. 
 
 But this is to surrender the only position of any real im- 
 portance. The simple and underived character of the moral
 
 MORALITY IS A CODE. 3Y 
 
 focnlty is maintained because of the superior authority at- 
 tached to what is natural, as opposed to what is merely con- 
 ventional. But if nothing be natural but the mere fact of 
 right and wrong, while all the details, which alone have any 
 value, are settled by convention and custom, we are as much 
 at sea on one system as on the other. 
 
 (3) It is fully admitted, being, indeed, impossible to deny, 
 that education must concur with natural impulses in making 
 up the moral sentiment. No human being, abandoned en- 
 tirely to native promptings, is ever found to manifest a sense 
 of right and wrong. As a general rule, the strength of the 
 conscience depends on the care bestowed on its cultivacion. 
 Although we have had to recognize primitive distinctions 
 among men as to the readiness to take on moral training, still, 
 the better the training, the stronger will be the conscientious 
 determinations. 
 
 But this admission has the effect of reducing the part 
 performed by nature to a small and uncertain amount. Even 
 if there were native preferences, they might be completely 
 overborne and reversed by an assiduous education. The 
 difference made by inculcation is so great, that it practically 
 amounts to everything. A voice so feeble as to be overpowered 
 by foreign elements would do no credit to nature. 
 
 7. Thirdly, Moral right and wrong is not so much a 
 simple, indivisible property, as an extensive Code of regu- 
 lations, which cannot even be understood without a cer- 
 tain maturity of the intelligence. 
 
 It is not possible to sum up the whole field of moral right 
 and wrong, so as to bring it within the scope of a single limited 
 perception, like the perception of resistance, or of colour. In 
 regard to some of the alleged intuitions at the foundation of 
 oui* knowledge, as for example time and space, there is a 
 comparative simplicity and unity, rendering their innate 
 origin less disputable. No such simplicity can be assigned 
 in the region of duty. 
 
 After the subject of morals has been studied in the detail, 
 it has, indeed, been found practicable to comprise the whole, 
 by a kind of generalization, in one comprehensive recognition 
 of regard to our fellows. But, in the first place, this is far from 
 a primitive or an intuitive suggestion of the mind. It came 
 at a late stage of human history, and is even regarded as a part 
 of E/Cvelation. In the second place, this high generality must 
 be accompanied with detailed applications to particular cases
 
 38 THE MORAL FACULTY. 
 
 and circumstances. Life is full of conflicting demands, and 
 there must be special rules to adjust these various demands. 
 We have to be told that country is greater than family ; that 
 temporary interests are to succumb to more enduring, and so on. 
 
 Supposing the Love of our Neighbour to unfold in detail, 
 ils it expresses in sum, the whole of morality, this is only 
 another name for our Sympathetic, Benevolent, or Disin- 
 terested regards, into which therefore Conscience would be 
 resolved, as it was by Hume. 
 
 But Morals is properly considered as a wide-ranging 
 science, having a variety of heads full of difficulty, and de- 
 manding minute consideration. The subject of Justice, has 
 nothing simple but the abstract statement — giving each one 
 their due ; before that can be applied, we must ascertain what 
 is each person's due, which introduces complex questions of 
 relative merit, far transcending the sphere of intuition. 
 
 If any part of Morals had the simplicity of an instinct, it 
 would be i-egard to Truth. The difference between truth and 
 falsehood might almost be regarded as a primitive suscepti- 
 bility, like the difference between light and dark, between resist- 
 ance and non-resistance. That each person should say what is, 
 instead of what is not, may well seem a primitive and natural 
 impulse. In circumstances of perfect indifference, this would 
 be the obvious and usual course of conduct ; being, like the 
 straight line, the shortest distance between two points. Let 
 a motive arise, however, in favour of the lie, and there is 
 nothing to insure the truth. Reference must be made to 
 other parts of the mind, from which counter-motives may 
 be furnished ; and the intuition in favour of Truth, not being 
 able to support itself, has to repose on the general foundation 
 of all virtue, the instituted recognition of the claims of others. 
 
 8. Fourthly, Intuition is incapable of settling the de- 
 bated questions of Practical Morality. 
 
 If we recall some of the great questions of practical life 
 that have divided the opinions of mankind, we shall find that 
 mere Intuition is helpless to decide them. 
 
 The toleration of heretical opinions has been a greatly con- 
 tested point. Our feelings are arrayed on both sides ; and 
 there is no prompting of nature to arbitrate between the 
 o])posing impulses. If the advance of civilization has tended 
 to liberty, it has been owing partly to greater enlightenment, 
 and partly to the successful struggles of dissent in the war 
 with established opinion.
 
 ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FACULTY. 39 
 
 The qnestions relating to marriage are wholly niidecideable 
 by intuition. The natural impulses are for unlimited co-habi- 
 tation. The degTee of restraint to bo put upon this tendency 
 is not indicated by any sentiment that can be discovered in 
 the mind. The case is very peculiar. In theft and murder, 
 the immediate consequences are injnry to some one ; in sexual 
 indulgence, the immediate result is agreeable to all concerned. 
 The evils are traceable only in remote consequences, which in- 
 tuition can know nothing of. It is not to be wondered, there- 
 fore, that nations, even highly civilized, have differed widely 
 in their marriage institutions ; agreeing only in the propriety 
 of adopting and enforcing some regulations. So essentially 
 has this matter been bound up with the moral code of every 
 society, that a proposed criterion of morality unable to grapple 
 with it, would be discarded as worthless. Yet there is no in- 
 tuitive sentiment that can be of any avail in the question of 
 mai'riage with a deceased wife's sister. 
 
 9. Fifthly, It is practicable to analyze or resolve the 
 Moral Faculty ; and, in so doing, to explain, both its pecu- 
 liar property, and the similarity of moral judgments so far 
 as existing among men. 
 
 We begin by estimating the operation of (1) Prudence, 
 (2) Sympathy, and (3) the Emotions generally. 
 
 The inducements to perform a moral act, as, for example, 
 the tulhlling of a bargain, — are plainly seen to be of various 
 kinds. 
 
 (1) Prudence, or Self-interest, has obviously much to do 
 with the moral conduct. Postponing for the present the con- 
 sideration of Punishment, which is one mode of appeal to the 
 prudential regards, we can trace the workings of self-interest 
 on many occasions wherein men act right. To fulfil a bargain 
 is, in the great majority of cases, for the advantage of the 
 agent ; if he fails to perform his part, others may do the 
 same to him. 
 
 Our self-interest may look still farther. We may readily 
 discover that if we set an example of injustice, it may be 
 taken up and repeated to such a degree that we can count 
 upon nothing ; social security comes to an end, and individual 
 existence, even if possible, would cease to be desirable. 
 
 A yet higher view of self-interest informs us, that by per- 
 forming all our obligations to our fellows, we not only attain 
 reciprocal performance, but generate mutual affections and 
 sympathies, which greatly augment the happiness of life.
 
 40 THE MORAL FACULTY. 
 
 (2) Sympathy, or Fellow-feeling, tlie source of onr dis- 
 interested actions, must next be taken into the account. It 
 is a consequence of oar sympathetic endowment that we revolt 
 from inflicting pain on another, and even forego a certain 
 satisfaction to self rather than be the occasion of suffering to 
 a fellow creature. Moved thus, we perform many obligations 
 on the ground of the misery (not our own) accruing from 
 their neglect. 
 
 A considerable portion of human virtue spnngs directly 
 from this source. If purely disinterested tendencies were 
 withdrawn from the breast, the whole existence of humanity 
 would be changed. Society might not be impossible ; there 
 are races where mutual sympathy barely exists : but the ful- 
 filment of obligations, if always dependent on a sense of 
 self-interest, would fail where that was not apparent. On the 
 other hand, if we were on all occasions touched with the un- 
 happiness to others immediately and remotely springing from 
 our conduct — if sympathy were perfect and unfailing — we 
 could hardly ever omit doing what was right. 
 
 (3) Our several Emotions or Passions may co-operate 
 with Prudence and with Sympathy in a way to make both 
 the one and the other more ef&cacious. 
 
 Prudence, in the shape of aversion to pain, is rendered 
 more acute when the pain is accompanied with Fear. The 
 perturbation of fear rises up as a deterring motive when 
 dangers loom in the distance. One powerful check to the 
 commission of injury is the retaliation of the sufferer, which 
 is a danger of the vague and illimitable kind, calculated to 
 create alarm. 
 
 Anger, or Resentment, also enters, in various ways, into 
 our moral impulses. In one shape it has just been noticed. 
 In concurrence with Self-interest and Sympathy, it heightens 
 the feeling of reprobation against wrong-doers. 
 
 The Tender Emotion, and the Affections, uphold us in the 
 performance of our duties to others, being an additional safe- 
 guard against injury to the objects of the feelings. It has 
 already been shown how these emotions, while tending to 
 coalesce w^ith Sympathy proper, are yet distinguished from it. 
 
 The -Esthetic Emotions have important bearings upon 
 Ethical Sentiment. As a whole, they are favourable to 
 human virtue, being non-exclusive pleasures. They, how- 
 ever, give a bias to the formation of moral rules, and pervert 
 the proper test of right and wrong in a manner to be after- 
 wards explained.
 
 BIGHTNESS IMPLIES GOVERNMENT OR AUTHORITY. 41 
 
 10. Althongli Prudence and Sympathy, and the various 
 Emotions named, are powerful inducements to what is 
 right in action, and although, without these, right would 
 not prevail among mankind, yet they do not stamp the 
 feculiar attrilmte of Eightness. For this, we must refer 
 to the institution of Government, or Authority. 
 
 Although the force of these various motives on the side of 
 right is all-powerful and essential, so much so, that without 
 them morality would be impossible, they do not, of them- 
 selves, impart the character of a moral act. We do not 
 always feel that, because we have neglected our interest or 
 violated our sympathies, we have on that account done wrong. 
 The criterion of Tightness in particular cases is something 
 dijQTerent. 
 
 The reasons are apparent. For although prudence, as 
 regards self, and sympathy or fellow-feeling, as regards 
 others, would comprehend all the interests of mankind — 
 everything that morality can desire to accomplish — neverthe- 
 less, the acting out of these impulses by each individual at 
 random would not suffice for the exigencies of human lifie. 
 They must be regulated, directed, reconciled by society at 
 large; each person must be made to work upon the same 
 plan as every other person. This leads to the institution of 
 Government and Authority, with the correlatives of Law, 
 Obligation, and Punishment. Our natural impulses for 
 good are now directed into an artificial channel, and it is no 
 longer optional whether they shall fall into that channel. 
 The nature of the case requires all to conform alike to the 
 general arrangements, and whoever is not sufficiently urged 
 by the natural motives, is brought under the spur of a new 
 kind of prudential motive — Punishment. 
 
 Government, Authority, Law, Obhgation, Punishment, a,re 
 all implicated in the same great Institution of Society, to which 
 Morality owes its chief foundation, and the Moral Sentiment 
 its special attribute. Morality is not Prudence, nor Benevo- 
 lence, in their primitive or spontaneous manifestations ; it is 
 the systematic codification of prudential and benevolent 
 actions, rendered obligatory by what is termed penalties or 
 Punishment ; an entirely distinct motive, artificially framed 
 by human society, but made so familiar to every member of 
 Bociety as to be a second nature. None are allowed to be pru- 
 dential or sympathizing in their own way. Parents are com- 
 pelled to nourish their own children ; servants to obey their
 
 4:2 THE MORAL FACULTY. 
 
 own masters, to the neglect of other regards ; all citizens have 
 to abide by the awards of authority ; bargains are to be ful- 
 filled according to a prescribed form and letter ; truth is to be 
 spoken on certain definite occasions, and not on others. In a 
 formed society, the very best impulses of nature fail to guide 
 the citizen's actions. No doubt there ought to be a general 
 coincidence between what Prudence and S^-mpathy would 
 dictate, and what Law dictates; but the precise adjustment is 
 a matter of institution. A moral act is not merely an act tend* 
 iug to reconcile the good of the agent with the good of the 
 whole society ; it is an act, prescribed by the social authority, 
 and rendered obligatory upon every citizen. Its morality is 
 constituted by its authoritative prescription, and not by its 
 fulfilling the primary ends of the social institution. A bad 
 law is still a law ; an ill-judged moral precept is still a moral 
 precept, felt as such by every loyal citizen. 
 
 11. It may be proved, by such evidence as the case 
 admits of, that the peculiarity of the Moral Sentiment, or 
 Conscience, is identified with our education under govern- 
 ment, or Authority. 
 
 Conscience is described by such terms as moral approba- 
 tion and disapprobation ; and involves, when highly developed, 
 a peculiar and unmistakeable revulsion of mind at what is 
 wrong, and a strong resentment towards the wrong-doer, 
 which become Remorse, in the case of self. 
 
 It is capable of being proved, that there is nothing natural 
 or primitive in these feelings, except in so far as the case hap- 
 pens to concur with the dictates of Self-interest, or Sympathy, 
 aided by the Emotions formerly specified. Any action that is 
 hostile to our interest, excites a form of disapprobation, such 
 as belongs to wounded self-interest ; and any action that puts 
 another to pain may so affect our natural sympathy as to be 
 disapproved, and resented on that ground. These natural or 
 inborn feelings are alwa^^s liable to coincide with moral right 
 and wrong, although they are not its criterion or measure in the 
 mind of each individual. But in those cases where an unusually 
 strong feeling of moral disapprobation is awakened, there is 
 apt to be a concurrence of the primitive motives of self, and of 
 fellow-feeling; and it is the ideal of good law, and good morality, 
 to coincide with a certain well-proportioned adjustment of the 
 Prudential and the Sympathetic regards of the individual 
 
 The requisite allowance being made for the natural im- 
 pulses, we must now adduce the facts, showing that the cha-
 
 CONSCIENCE AN EDUCATION UNDER AUTHORITY. 43 
 
 raoteristic of the Moral Sense is an education under Law, or 
 Authority, through the instrumentality of Punishment. 
 
 (1) It is a fact that human beings living in society are 
 placed under discipline, accompanied by punishment. Cer- 
 tain actions are forbidden, and the doers of them are sub- 
 jected to some painful infliction ; which is increased in severity 
 if they are persisted in. Now, what would be the natural 
 consequence of such a system, under the known hiws oi 
 feeling, will, and intellect ? Would not an action that always 
 brings down punishment be associated with the pain and the 
 dread of punishment? Such an association is inevitably 
 formed, and becomes at least a part, and a very important 
 part, of the sense of duty ; nay, it would of itself, after a 
 certain amount of repetition, be adequate to restrain for 
 ever the performance of the action, thus attaining the end of 
 morality. 
 
 There may be various ways of evoking and forming the 
 moral sentiment, but the one waymost commonly trusted to, and 
 never altogether dispensed with, is the associating of pain, that 
 is, punishment, with the actions that are disallowed. Punish- 
 ment is held out as the consequence of performing certain 
 actions ; every individual is made to taste of it ; its infliction 
 is one of the most familiar occurrences of every-day life. 
 Consequently, whatever else may be present in the moral 
 sentiment, this fact of the connexion of pain with forbidden 
 actions must enter into it with an overpowering prominence. 
 Any natural or primitive impulse in the direction of duty 
 must be very marked and apparent, in order to divide with 
 this communicated bias the direction of our conduct. It is 
 for the supporters of innate distinctions to point out any 
 concurring impetus (apa.rt from the Prudential and Sympa- 
 thetic regards) sufiiciently important to cast these powerful 
 associations into a secondary or subordinate position. 
 
 By a familiar effect of Contiguous Association, the dread 
 c f punishment clothes the forbidden act with a feeling of 
 aversion, which in the end persists of its own accord, and 
 without reference to the punishment. Actions that have long 
 been connected in the mind with pains and penalties, come to 
 be contemplated with a disinterested repugnance ; they seem to 
 give pain on their own account. This is a parallel, from the 
 side of pain, of the acquired attachment to money. Now, 
 when, by such transference, a self-subsisting sentiment of 
 aversion has been created, the conscience seems to be detached 
 from all external sanctions, and to possess an isolated footing
 
 44: THE MORAL FACULTY. 
 
 in the mind. It has passed through the stage of reference to 
 authority, and has become a law to itself. But no conscience 
 ever arrives at the independent standing, without first existing 
 in the reflected and dependent stage. 
 
 We must never omit from the composition of the Con- 
 science the primary impulses of Self-interest and Sympathy, 
 which in minds strongly alive to one or other, always count 
 for a powerful element in human conduct, although for reasons 
 already stated, not the strictly m^oral element, so far as the 
 individual is concerned. They are adopted, more or less, by 
 the authority imposing the moral code ; and when the two 
 sources coincide, the stream is all the stronger. 
 
 (2) Where moral training is omitted or greatly neglected, 
 there is an absence of security for vii'tuous conduct. 
 
 In no civilized community is moral discipline entirely 
 wanting. Although children may be neglected by their 
 parents, they come at last under the discipline of the law and 
 the public. They cannot be exempted from the associations 
 of punishment with wrong. But when these associations have 
 not been early and sedulously formed, in the family, in the 
 school, and in the workshop, the moral sentiment is left in a 
 feeble condition. There still remain the force of the law and 
 of public opinion, the examples of public punishment, and the 
 reprobation of guilt. Every member of the community must 
 witness daily the degraded condition of the viciously disposed, 
 and the prosperity following on respect for the law. No 
 human being escapes from thus contracting moral impressions 
 to a very large amount. 
 
 (3) Whenever an action is associated with Disapprobation 
 and Punishment, there grows up, in reference to it, a state of 
 mind undistinguishable from Moral Sentiment. 
 
 There are many instances where individuals are enjoined 
 to a course of conduct wholly indifferent with regard to 
 universal morality, as in the regulations of societies formed for 
 special purposes. Each member of the society has to conform 
 to these regulations, under pain of forfeiting all the benefits of 
 the society, and of perhaps incurring positive evils. The code 
 of honour among gentlemen is an example of these artificial 
 impositions. It is not to be supposed that there should be an 
 innate sentiment to perform actions having nothing to do with 
 moral right and wrong ; yet the disapprobation and the remorse 
 following on a breach of the code of honour, will often be 
 greater than what follows a breach of the moral law. The 
 constant habit of regarding with dread the consequences of
 
 DISAPPROBATION CREATES A MORAL SENTIMENT. 45 
 
 violating any of the rules, simulates a moral sentiment, on a 
 subject unconnected witli morality properly so called. 
 
 The arbitrary ceremonial customs of nations, with refer- 
 ence to such points as ablutions, clothing, eating and abstin- 
 ence from meats, — when rendered obligatory by the force of 
 penalties, occupy exactly the same place in the mind as the 
 principles of moral right and wrong. The same form of dread 
 attaches to the consequences of neglect ; the same remorse is 
 felt by the individual offender. The exposure of the naked 
 person is as much abhorred as telling a lie. The Turkish 
 woman exposing her face, is no less conscience-smitten than 
 if she murdered her child. There is no act, however trivial, 
 that cannot be raised to the position of a moral act, by the 
 imperative of society. 
 
 Still more sti iking is the growth of a moral sentiment in 
 connexion with such usages as the Hindoo suttee. It is known 
 that the Hindoo widow, it' prevented from burning herself with 
 her husband's corpse, often feels all the pangs of remorse, and 
 leads a life of misery and self-humiliation. The habitual in- 
 culcation of this duty by society, the penalty of disgrace 
 attached to its omission, operate to implant a sentiment in 
 every respect analogous to the strongest moral sentitnent.
 
 PAET 11. 
 
 THE ETHICAL SYSTEMS. 
 
 The first important name in Ancient Ethical Philosophy is 
 SOKRATES. [469-399 B.C.] 
 
 For the views of Sokrates, as well as his method,* we have 
 first the Memokabilia of Xenophon, and next such of the 
 Platonic Compositions, as are judged, by comparison with the 
 MemorabiHa, to keep closest to the real Sokrates. Ot these, 
 the chief are the Apology of Sokrates, the Kriton and the 
 Phjedgn. 
 
 The ' Memorabilia ' was composed by Xenophon, expressly 
 to vindicate Sokrates against the accusations and unfavourable 
 opinious that led to his execution. The ' Apology ' is Plato's 
 account of his method, and also sets forth his moral attitude. 
 The ' Kriton ' describes a conversation between him and his 
 friend Kriton, in prison, two days bel'ore his death, wherein, 
 in reply to the entreaties of his friends generally that he 
 should make his escape from prison, he declares his determi- 
 nation to abide by the laws of the Athenian State. Inasmuch 
 as, in the Apology, he had seemed to set his private convictions 
 above the public authority, he here presents another side of 
 his character. The ' Pha3don ' contains the conversation on 
 * the Immortality of the Soul ' just before his execution. 
 
 The Ethical bearings of the Philosophical method, the 
 Doctrines, and the Life of Sokrates. are these : — 
 
 The direction he gave to philosophical enquiry, was ex- 
 pressed in the saying that he brought ' Philosophy down from 
 Heaven to Earth.' His subjects were Man and Society. He 
 entered a protest against the enquiries of the early philosophers 
 
 • See, on the method of Sokrates, Appendix A.
 
 DOCTRINE THAT VIRTUE IS KNOWLEDGE. 47 
 
 as to the constitution of the Kosmos, the nature of the Heavenly 
 Bodies, the theory of Winds and Storms. Ho called these 
 Divine things ; and in a great degree useless, if understood. 
 The Human relations of life, the varieties of conduct of men 
 towards each other in all capacities, were alone within the com- 
 pass of knowledge, and capable of yielding fruit. In short, his 
 tarn of mind was thoroughly practical, we might say utilitarian. 
 
 I. — He gave a foundation and a shape to Ethical Science, 
 by insisting on its practical character, and by showing that, 
 like the other arts of life, it had an End, and a Theory from 
 which flows the precepts or means. The End, which would 
 be the Standard, was not stated by him, and hardly even by 
 Plato, otherwise than in general language ; the Summum 
 Bonum had not as yet become a matter of close debate. ' The 
 art of dealing with human beings,' 'the art of behaving in 
 society,' ' the science of human happiness,' were various 
 modes of expressing the final end of conduct.* Sokrates 
 clearly indicated the difference between an unscientific and a 
 scientific art ; the one is an incommunicable knack or dexterity, 
 the other is founded on theoretical principles. 
 
 II. — Notwithstanding his professing ignorance of what 
 virtue is, Sokrates had a definite doctrine with reference to 
 Ethics, which we may call his Psychology of the subject. 
 This was the doctrine that resolves Virtue into Knowledge, 
 Vice into Ignorance or Folly. ' To do right was the only 
 way to impart happiness, or the least degree of unhappiness 
 compatible with any given situation : now, this was precisely 
 what every one wished for and aimed at — only that many 
 persons, from ignorance, took the wrong road; and no man 
 was wise enough always to take the right. But as no man 
 was willingly his own enemy, so no man ever did wrong 
 •willingly ; it was because he was not fully or correctly in- 
 formed of the consequences of his own actions ; so that the 
 proper remedy to apply, was enlarged teaching of conse- 
 quences and improved judgment. To make him willing to 
 be taught, the only condition required was to make him con- 
 scious of his own ignorance ; the want of which consciousness 
 was the real cause both of indocility and of vice ' (Grote). This 
 
 * In setting forth the Ethical End, the language of Sokrates was not 
 always consistent. He sometimes stated it. as if it included an indepen- 
 dent reference to the happiness of others ; at other times, he speaks as if 
 the end was the agent's own haj>piness, to which the happiness of others 
 was the greatest and most essential means. The first view, although not 
 always adhered to, prevails m Xenophon ; the second appears most in 
 Plato.
 
 48 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — SOKRATES. 
 
 doctrine grew out of his favourite analogy between social 
 duty and a profession or trade. When the artizan goes 
 wrong, it is usually from pure ignorance or incapacity ; he is 
 wilh'ng to do good work if be is able. 
 
 III. — The SuMMUM BONUM with Sokrates was Well-doing. 
 He had no ideal of pursuit for man apart from virtue, or what 
 he esteemed virtue — the noble and the praiseworthy. This 
 was the elevated point of view maintained alike by him and 
 by Plato, and common to them with the ideal of modern ages. 
 
 Well-doing consisted in doing well whatever a man under- 
 took. * The best man,' he said, 'and the most beloved by 
 the gods, is he that, as a husbandman, performs well the duties 
 of husbandry ; as a surgeon, the duties of the medical art ; in 
 political life, his duty towards the commonwealth. The man 
 that does nothing well is neither useful nor agreeable to the 
 gods.' And as knowledge is essential to all undertakings, 
 knowledge is the one thing needfal. This exclusive regard 
 to knowledge was his one-sidedness as a moral theorist ; but 
 he did not consistently exclude all reference to the voluntary 
 control of appetite and passion. 
 
 IV. — He inculcated Practical Precepts of a self-denying 
 kind, intended to curb the excesses of human desire and am- 
 bition. He urged the pleasures of self-improvement and of 
 duty against indulgences, honours, and worldly advancement. 
 In the 'Apology,' he states it as the second aim of his life 
 (after imparting the shock of conscious ignorance) to reproach 
 men for pursuing wealth and glory more than wisdom and 
 virtue. In ' Kriton,' he lays it down that we are never to 
 act wrongly or unjustly, although others are unjust to us. 
 And, in his own life, he furnished an illustrious example of his 
 teaching. The same lofty strain was taken up by Plato, and 
 repeated in most of the subsequent Ethical schools. 
 
 V. — His Ethical Theory extended itself to Government, 
 where he applied his analogy of the special arts. The legiti- 
 mate King was he that knew how to govern well. 
 
 VI. — The connexion in the mind of Sokrates between 
 Ethics and Theology was very slender. 
 
 In the first place, his distinction of Divine and Human 
 things, was an exclusion of the arbitrary will of the gods 
 from human affairs, or from those things that constituted the 
 ethical end. 
 
 But in the next place, he always preserved a pious and re- 
 verential tone of mind; and considered tliat, after patient study, 
 men should still consult the oracles, bj which the gods, ir
 
 ETHICAL DIALOGUES OF PLATO. 49 
 
 cases of difficulty, graciously signified their intentions, and 
 their beneficent care of the race. Then, the practice of well- 
 doing was prompted by reference to the satisfaction of the 
 gods. In so far as the gods administered the world in a right 
 spirit, they would show favour to the virtuous. 
 
 PLATO. [427-347 b.c] 
 
 The Ethical Doctrines of Plato are scattered through his 
 various Dialogues ; and incorporated with his philosophical 
 method, with his theory of Ideas, and with his theories of 
 man and of society. 
 
 From Sokrates, Plato derived Dialectics, or the method of 
 Debate ; he embodied all his views in imaginary conversa- 
 tions, or Dialogues, suggested by, and resembling the real 
 conversations of Sokrates. And farther, in imitation of his 
 master, he carried on his search after truth under the guise of 
 ascertaining the exact meaning or definition of leading terms ; 
 as Virtue, Courage, Holiness, Temperance, Justice, Law, 
 Beauty, Knowledge, Rhetoric, &c. 
 
 We shall first pass in review the chief Dialogues contain- 
 ing Ethical doctrines. 
 
 The Apology, Kriton, and Euthyphron (we follow Mr. 
 Grote's order) may be passed by as belonging more to his 
 master than to himself; moreover, everything contained in 
 them will be found recurring in other dialogues. 
 
 The Alkibiades I. is a good specimen of the Sokratic man- 
 ner. It brings out the loose discordant notions of Just and 
 V 11 just prevailing in the community ; sets forth that the Just 
 is also honourable, good, and expedient — the cause of happi- 
 ness to the just man ; urges the importance of Self-know- 
 ledge ; and maintains that the conditions of happiness are not 
 wealth and power, but Justice and Temperance. 
 
 Alkibiades II. brings out a Platonic position as to the 
 Good. There are a number of things that are good, as health, 
 money, family, but there is farther required the skill to apply 
 these in proj^er measure to the supreme end of life. All 
 knowledge is not valuable ; there may be cases where ignor- 
 ance is better. What we are principally interested in know- 
 ing is the Good, the Best, the Profitable. The man of much 
 learning, without this, is like a vessel tossed on the sea with- 
 out a pilot.* 
 
 * • What Plato here calls the Knowledge of Good, or Reason, — the just 
 discrimination and comparative appreciation, of Ends and Means — ap- 
 pears in the Politikus and the Euthydernus, under the title of the Regal or
 
 50 ETHIC A.L SYSTEMS — PLATO. 
 
 In HipPiAS Minor, appears an extreme statement of the 
 doctrine, common to Sokrates and Plato, identifying virtne 
 ■with knowledge, or glv^ing exclusive attention to the intel- 
 lectual element of conduct. It is urged that a mendacious 
 person, able to tell the truth if he chooses, is better than one 
 unable to tell it, although wishing to do so ; the knowledge is 
 of greater worth than the good disposition. 
 
 In Minos (or the Definition of Laiv) he refuses to accept 
 the decree of the state as a law, but postulates the decision of 
 some Ideal wise man. This is a following oat of the Sokratic 
 analogy of the professions, to a purely ideal demand ; the wise 
 man is never producible. In many dialogues (Kriton, Laches, 
 &c.) the decision of some Expert is sought, as "a physician is 
 consulted in disease ; but the Moral expert is unknown to any 
 actual communitry. 
 
 In Laches, the question *what is Virtue?' is put; it is 
 argued under the special virtue of Courage. In a truly 
 Sokratic dialogue, Sokrates is in search of a definition of. 
 Courage; as happens in the search dialogues, there is no» 
 definite result, bnt the drift of the discussion is to makei 
 courage a mode of intelligence, and to resolve it into thei 
 grand desideratum of the knowledge of good and evil — 
 belonging to the One Wise Man. 
 
 Charmides discusses Temperance. As usual with Plato ini 
 discussing the virtues, with a view to their Logical definition, , 
 he presupposes that this is something beneficial and good.* 
 Various definitions are given of Temperance ; and all are re-> 
 jected ; but the dialogue falls into the same track as the? 
 Laches, in putting forward the supreme science of good and! 
 evil. It is a happy example of the Sokratic manner and par- 
 Political Art, as employing or directins^ the results of all other arts, 
 which are considered as subordinate : in the Protagoras, under the title 
 of art of calculation or mensuration : in the Philebus, as measure and 
 proportion : in the PhaeJius (in regard to rhetoric) as the art of turning 
 to account, for the main purpose of persuasion, all the special processes, 
 stratagems, decorations, &c., imparted by professional masters. In the 
 Republic, it is personified in the few venerable Elders who constitute the 
 Keason of the society, and whose directions all the rest (Guardians andi 
 Producers) arc bound impliciLly to follow : the virtue of the subordinates; 
 consisting in this implicit obedience. In the Leges, it is defined as the 
 complete subjection in the mind, of pleasures and pains to right Reason, 
 without which, no special aptitudes are worth having. In the Xeno-- 
 phontic Memorabilia, it stands as a Sokratic authority under the title of i 
 Sophrosyne or Temperance : and the Profitable is declared identical wi*;!!! 
 the Good, as the directing and limiting principle for all human pursuittli 
 and proceedings.' (Grote's Plato, I., 362.)
 
 IS VIRTUE TEACHABLE? 51 
 
 pose, of exposing the conceit of knowledge, the fancy that 
 people understaud the meaning of the general terms habitually 
 employed. 
 
 Lysis on Friend^hijJ, ov Love, might be expected to fur- 
 nish some ethical openings, but it is rather a piece of dialectic, 
 ^\ithout result, farther than to impart the consciousness of 
 iirnorance. If it suggests anything positive, it is the Idea of 
 Good, as the ultimate end of affection. The subject is one of 
 special interest in ancient Etl; cs, as being one of the aspects 
 of Benevolent sentiment iu the Pagan world. In Aristotle 
 we first find a definite handling of it. 
 
 Me::sOX may be considered as pre-eminently ethical in its 
 design. It is expressly devoted to the question — Is Virtue 
 teuchahle? Sokrates as usual confesses that he does not 
 know what virtue is. He will not accept a catalogue of the 
 admitted virtues as a definition of virtue, and presses for some 
 common or defining attribute. He advances on his own side 
 his usual doctrine that virtue is Kjiowledge, or a mode of 
 Knowledge, and that it is good and profitable ; which is merely 
 an iteration of the Science of good and evil. He distinguishes 
 virtue from Right Opinion, a sort of quasi-knowledge, the 
 knowledge of esteemed and useful citizens, which cannot be 
 the highest knowledge, since these citizens fail to impart it 
 even to their own sons. 
 
 In this dialogue, we have Plato's view of Immortality, 
 which comprises both pre-exist ence and post-existence. The 
 pre-existence is used to explain the derivation of general 
 notions, or Ideas, which are antecedent to the perceptions of 
 sense. 
 
 In Protagoeas, we find one of the most important of the 
 ethical discussions of Plato. It proceeds from the same ques- 
 tion. — Is virtue teachable ? — Sokrates as usual expressing his 
 doubts on the point. Protagora^s then delivers a splendid 
 harangue, showing how virtue is taught — namely, by the 
 practice of society in approving, condemning, rewarding, 
 punishing the actions of individuals. From childhood upward, 
 iiverj human being in society is a witness to the moral pro- 
 cedure of society, and by degrees both knows, and conforms to, 
 the maxims of virtue of the society. Protagoras himself as a 
 professed teacher, or sophist, can improve but little upon this 
 habitual inculcation. Sokrates, at the end of the harangue, 
 puts in his usual questions tending to bring out the essence or 
 definition of virtue, and soon drives Protagoras into a corner, 
 bringing him to admit a view nowhere else developed in Plato,
 
 52 ETHICAL SYSTEMS -PLATO. 
 
 that PleasTire is the only pfood, Pain the only evil, and tliat 
 the science of Good and Evil consists in Measuring, and in 
 choosing between conflicting pleasures and pains — preferring 
 the greater pleasure to the less, the less pain to the greater. 
 For example, courage is a wise estimate of things terrible and 
 things not terrible. In consistency with the doctrine that 
 Knowledge is virtue, it is mauitained here as elsewhere, that 
 a man knowing good and evil must act upon that knowledge, 
 Plato often repeats his theory of Measurement, but never 
 again specifically intimates that the things to be measured are 
 pleasures and pains. And neither here nor elsewhere, does he 
 suppose the virtuous man taking directly into his calculation 
 the pleasures and pains of other persons. 
 
 GoRGiAS, one of the most renowned of the dialogues in 
 point of composition, is also ethical, but at variance with the 
 Protagoras, and more in accordance with Plato's predominating 
 views. The professed subject is Rhetoric, which, as an art, 
 Sokrates professes to hold in contempt. The dialogue begins 
 with the position that men are prompted by the desire of good, 
 but proceeds to the great Platonic paradox, that it is a greater 
 evil to do wrong than to suffer wrong. The criminal labours 
 tinder a mental distemper, and the best thing that can happen 
 to him, is to be punished that so he may be cured. The 
 •unpunished wrong-doer is more miserable than if he were 
 punished. Sokrates in this dialogue maintains, in opposition 
 to the thesis of Protagoras, that pleasure is not the same as 
 good, that there are bad pleasures and good pains ; and a 
 skilful adviser, one versed in the science of good and evil, 
 must discriminate between them. He does not mean that 
 those pleasures only are bad that bring an overplus of future 
 pains, which would be in accordance with the previous 
 dialogue. The sentiment of the dialogue is ascetic and self- 
 denying.* Order or Discipline is inculcated, not as a means 
 to an end, but as an end in itself. 
 
 * * Indeed there is nothing more remarkable in the Gorgias, than the 
 manner in which Sokrates nut only condemns the unmeasured, exorbitant, 
 maleficent desires, but also depreciates and degrades all the actualities of 
 life — all the recreative and elegant arts, including music and poetry, 
 tragic as well as dithyrambic — all provision for the most essential wants, 
 all protection against particular sufferings and dangers, even all service 
 rendered to another person in the way of relief or of rescue — all the effec- 
 tive maintenance of public ori>anized force, such as ships, docks, walls, 
 arms, &c. Immediate satisfaction or relief, and those who confer it, are 
 treated with contempt, and presented as in hostility to the perfection of 
 the mental structure. And it is in this point of view, that various Platoaio
 
 PLEASURE AND PAIN. 53 
 
 The PoLiTiKUS is OQ the Art of G-overnment, and gives the 
 Platonic beau ideal of the One competent person, governing 
 absolutely, by virtue of his scientific knowledge, and aiming at 
 the good and improvement of the governed. This is merely 
 another illustration of the Sokratic ideal — a despotism, anointed 
 by supreme good intentions, and by an ideal skill. The Re- 
 public is an enlargement of the lessons of the Politikus with- 
 out the dialectic discussion. 
 
 The postulate of the One Wise man is repeated in 
 Kratylps, on the unpromising subject of Language or the 
 invention of Names. 
 
 The Philebus has a decidedly ethical character. It pro- 
 pounds for enquiry the Good, the Summum Bonum. This is 
 denied to be mere pleasure, and the denial is enforced by 
 Sokrates challenging his opyjouent to choose the lot of an 
 ecstatic oyster. As usual, good must be related to Intelligence ; 
 and the Dialogue gives a long disquisition upon the One and 
 the Many, the Theory of Ideas, the Determinate and the Inde- 
 terminate. Good is a compound of Pleasure and Intelligence, 
 the last predominating. Pleasure is the Indeterminate, requir- 
 ing the Determinate (Knowledge) to regulate it. This is 
 merely another expression for the doctrine of Measure, and 
 for the common saying, that the Passions must be controlled 
 by Heason. There is, also, in the dialogue, a good deal on 
 the Psychology of Pleasure and Pain. Pleasure is the funda- 
 mental harmony of the system ; Pain its disturbance. Bodily 
 Pleasure pre-supposes pain [true only of some pleasures]. 
 Mental pleasures may be without previous pain, and are there- 
 fore pure pleasures- A life of Intelligence is conceivable 
 without either pain or pleasure ; this is the choice of the Wise 
 man, and is the nature of the gods. Desire is a mixed state, 
 and comprehends body and mind. Much stress is laid on the 
 moderate and tranquil pleasures ; the intense pleasures, coveted 
 by mankind, belong to a distempered rather than a healthy 
 state ; they are false and delusive. Pleasure is, by its nature, 
 a change or transition, and cannot be a supreme end. The 
 m,ixture of Pleasure and Intelligence is to be adjusted by the 
 all-important principle of Measure or Proportion, which con- 
 nects the Good with the BeautifuL 
 
 commentators extol in an especial manner the Gorgias: as recognizing 
 an Idea of Good superhuman and supernatural, radicnlly disparate from 
 pleasures and pains of any human being, and incommensurable with them ; 
 an Universal Idea, which, though it is supposed to east a distant light 
 upon its particulars, is separated from them by an incalculable space, and 
 is discernible only by the Platonic telescope.' (Grote, Gorgias.)
 
 54 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — PLATO. 
 
 A decided asceticism is the efcliical tendency of this dialogtie. 
 It is markedly opposed to the view of the Protagoras. Still 
 greater is the opposition between it and the two Erotic 
 dialogues, Phtedrus and Symposium, where Bonuvi and 
 Pidchrum are attained in the pursuit of an ecstatic and over- 
 whelming personal affection. 
 
 The Republic starts with the question — what is Justice ? 
 and, in answering it, provides the scheme of a model Republic. 
 Book I. is a Sokratic colloquy, where one speaker, on being 
 inteiTogated, defines Justice as 'rendering to every man his 
 due,' and afterwards amends it to ' doing good to friends, evil 
 to enemies.* Another gives ' the right ot the strongest.' A 
 third maintains that Injustice by itself is profitable to the 
 doer ; but, as it is an evil to society in general, men make laws 
 against it and punish it ; in consequence of which, Justice is 
 the more profitable. Sokrates, in opposition, undertakes to 
 prove that Justice is good in itself, ensuring the happiness of 
 the doer by its intrinsic effect on his mind ; and irrespective 
 of exemption from the penalties of injustice. He reaches 
 this result by assimilating an individual to a state. Justice is 
 shown to be good in the entire city, and by analogy it is also 
 good in the individual. He accordingly proceeds to construct 
 his ideal commonwealth. In the course of this construction 
 many ethical views crop out. 
 
 The state must prescribe the religious belief, and allow no 
 compositions at variance with it. The gods must always be 
 set forth as the causes of good ; they must never be repre- 
 sented as the authors of evil, nor as practising deceit. Neither 
 is it to be allowed to represent men as unjust, yet happy ; or 
 just, and yet miserable. The poetic representation of bad cha- 
 racters is also forbidden. The musical training is to be adapted 
 for disposing the mind to the perception of Beauty, whence it 
 becomes qualified to recognize the other virtues. Useful fictions 
 are to be diffused, v.^ithout regard to truth. This pious fraud 
 is openly recommended by Plato. 
 
 The division of the human mind into (1) Reason or 
 Intelligence; (2) Energy, Courage, Spirit, or the Military 
 Virtue; and (3) Many-headed Appetite, all in mutual counter- 
 play — is transferred to the State, each of the three parts being 
 represented by one of the political orders or divisions of the 
 community. The happiness of the man and the happiness of the 
 commonwealth are attained in the same way, namely, by rea- 
 lizing the four virtues — Wisdom, Courage, Temperance, Jus- 
 tice J with this condition, that Wisdom, or Reason, is sough fe
 
 PLATONIC REPUBLIC. 65 
 
 only in the Ruling caste, the Elders ; Courage, or Energy, 
 only in the second caste, the Soldiers or Guardians ; while 
 Temperance and Justice (meaning almost the same thing) must 
 inhere alike in all the three classes, and be the only thing ex- 
 pected in the third, the Working Multitude. 
 
 If it be now asked, what and where is Justice ? the answer 
 is — 'every man to attend to his own business.' Injustice 
 occurs when any one abandons his post, or meddles with what 
 does not belong to him ; and more especially when any one of 
 a lower division aspires to the function of a higher. Such is 
 Justice for the city, and such is it in the individual ; the higher 
 faculty — Reason, must control the two lower — Courage and 
 Appetite. Justice is thus a sort of harmony or balance of the 
 mental powers ; it is to the mind what health is to the body. 
 Health is the greatest good, sickness the greatest evil, of the 
 body ; so is Justice of the mind. 
 
 It is an essential of the Platonic Republic that, among the 
 guardians at least, the sexual arrangements should be under 
 public regulation, and the monopoly of one woman by one man 
 forbidden : a regard to the breed of the higher caste of citizens 
 requires the magistrate to see that the best couples are brought 
 together, and to refuse to rear the inferior offspring of ill- 
 assorted connexions. The number of births is also to be 
 regulated. 
 
 In carrying on war, special maxims of clemency are to be 
 observed towards Hellenic enemies. 
 
 The education of the Guardians must be philosophical ; it 
 is for them to rise to the Idea of the good, to master the 
 science of Good and Evil ; they must be emancipated from the 
 notion that Pleasure is the good. To indicate the route to this 
 attainment Plato gives his theory of cognition generally — the 
 theory of Ideas ; — and indicates (darkly) how these sublime 
 generalities are to be reached. 
 
 The Ideal Commonwealth supposed established, is doomed 
 to degradation and decay ; passing through Timocracy, 
 Oligarchy, Democracy, to Despotism, with a corresponding 
 declension of happiness. The same varieties may be traced 
 in the Individual ; the ' despotized ' mind is the acme of Injus- 
 tice and consequent misery. 
 
 The comparative value of Pleasures is discussed. The 
 pleasures of philosophy, or wisdom (those of Reason), are 
 alone true and pure ; the pleasures corresponding to the two 
 other parts of the mind are inferior ; Love of Honour (from 
 Courage or Energy), and Love of Money (Appetite). The
 
 56 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— PLATO. 
 
 well-ordered mind — Justice — is above all things the source of 
 happiness. Apart from all consequences of Justice, this is 
 true ; the addition of the natural results only enhances the 
 strength of the position. 
 
 In Tim Jius, Plato repeats the doctrine that wickedness is to 
 t!ie mind what disease is to the body. The soul suffers from 
 two distempers, madness and ignorance ; the man under pas- 
 sionate heat is not wicked voluntarily. No man is bad wil- 
 lingly ; but only from some evil habit of body, the effect of 
 bad bringing-up [very much the view of Robert Owen]. 
 
 The long treatise called the Laws, being a modified scheme 
 of a Republic, goes over the same ground with more detail. 
 We give the chief ethical points. It is the purpose of the law- 
 giver to bring about happiness, and to provide all good things 
 divine and human. The divine things are the cardinal virtues 
 — Wisdom, Justice, Temperance, Courage; the human are 
 the leading personal advantages — Health, Beauty, Strength, 
 Activity, Wealth. He requires the inculcation of self-com- 
 mand, and a training in endurance. The moral and religious 
 feelings are to be guided in early youth, by the influence of 
 Poetry and the other Fine Arts, in which, as before, a strin- 
 gent censorship is to be exercised ; the songs and dances are 
 all to be publicly authorized. The ethical doctrine that the 
 just man is happy and the unjust miserable, is to be preached ; 
 and every one prohibited from contradicting it. Of all the 
 titles to command in society. Wisdom is the highest, although 
 policy may require it to be conjoined with some of the others 
 (Birth, Age, Strength, Accident, &c.). It is to be a part of 
 the constitution to provide public exhortations, or sermons, 
 for inculcating virtue ; Plato having now passed into an op- 
 posite phase as to the value of Rhetoric, or continuous address. 
 The family is to be allowed in its usual form, but with re- 
 straints on the age of marriage, on the choice of the parties, 
 and on the increase of the number of the population. Sexual 
 intercourse is to be as far as possible confined to persons 
 legally married; those departing from this rule are, at all 
 events, to observe secresy. The slaves are not to be of the 
 same race as the masters. As regards punishment, there is a 
 great complication, owing to the author's theory that wicked- 
 ness is not properly voluntary. Much of the harm done by 
 persons to others is unintentional or involuntary, and is to be 
 made good by reparation. For the loss of balance or self- 
 control, making the essence of injustice, there must be a penal 
 and educational discipline, suited to cure the moral distemper ;
 
 SUMMARY OF PLATO's ETHICS. 67 
 
 not for the sake of the past, which cannot be recalled, but of 
 the future. Under cover of this theorj, the punishments are 
 abundantly severe ; and the crimes include Heresy, for wkich 
 there is a f^radation of penalties terminating in death. 
 
 We may now summarize the Ethics of Plato, under the 
 general scheme as follows : — 
 
 I. — The Ethical Standard, or criterion of moral Right and 
 Wrong. This we have seen is, ultimately, the Science of Good 
 and Evil, as determined by a Scientific or Wise man ; the 
 Idea of the Good, which only a philosopher can ascend to. 
 Plato gave no credit to the maxims of the existing society ; 
 these were wholly unscientific. 
 
 It is obvious that this vague and indeterminate standard 
 would settle nothing practically; no one can tell what it is. 
 It is only of value as belonging to a very exalted and poetic 
 conception of virtue, something that raises the imagination 
 above common life into a sphere of transcendental existence, 
 
 II.— The Psychology of Ethics, 
 
 1. As to the Faculty of discerning Right. This is im- 
 plied in the foregoing statement of the cnterion. It is the 
 Cognitive or Intellectual power. In the definite position 
 taken up in Protagoras, it is the faculty of Measuring plea- 
 sures against one another and against pains. In other dia- 
 logues, measure is still the important aspect of the process, 
 although the things to be measured are not given, 
 
 2. As regards the Av'dl. The theory that vice, if not the 
 result of ignorance, is a form of madness, an uncontrollable 
 fury, a mental distemper, gives a peculiar rendering of the 
 nature of man's Will. It is a kind of Necessity, not exactly 
 corresponding, however, with the modem doctrine of that name. 
 
 3. Disinterested Sentiment is not directly and plainly re- 
 cognized by Plato. His highest virtue is self- regarding ; a 
 concern for the Health of the SouL 
 
 IIL — On the Bonum, or Summum Bonum, Plato is ascetic 
 and self-denying. 1. We have seen that in Philebus, Pleasure 
 is not good, unless united with Knowled^ or Intelligence ; 
 and the greater the Intelligence, the higher the pleasure. 
 That the highest happiness of man is the pursuit of truth or 
 Philosophy, was common to Plato and to Aristotle. 
 
 2. Happiness is attainable only through Justice or Yirtne. 
 Justice is declared to be happiness, first, in itself, and secondly, 
 in its consequences. Such is the importance attached to this 
 maxim as a safeguard of Society, that, whether true or not, it 
 is to be maintained by state authority.
 
 58 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — PLATO. 
 
 3. The Psycliology of Pleasure and Pain is given at length 
 in the Philebus. 
 
 IV. — With regard to the scheme of Duty. Tn Plato, we 
 find the first statement of the four Cardinal Virtues. 
 
 As to the Substance of the Moral Code, the references 
 above made to the Republic and the Laws will show in what 
 points his views difi'ered from modern Ethics. 
 
 Benevolence was not one of the Cardinal Virtues. 
 
 His notions even of Reciprocity were rendered hazy and 
 indistinct by his theory of Justice as an end in itself. 
 
 The inducements, means, and stimulants to virtue, in 
 addition to penal discipline, are training, persuasion, or hor- 
 tatory discourse, dialectic cognition of the Ideas, and, above 
 all, that ideal aspiration towards the Just, the Good, around 
 which he gathered all that was fascinating in poetry, and all 
 the associations of religion and divinity. Plato employed his 
 powerful genius in working up a lofty spiritual reward, an 
 ideal intoxication, for inciting men to the self-denying virtues. 
 He was the first and one of the greatest of preachers. His 
 theory of Justice is suited to preaching, and not to a scientific 
 analysis of society. 
 
 V. — The relation of Ethics to Politics is intimate, and 
 even inseparable. The Civil Magistrate, as in Hobbes, supplies 
 the Ethical sanction. All virtue is an affair of the state, a 
 political institution. This, however, is qualified by the de- 
 mand for an ideal state, and an id . h1 governor, by whom alone 
 anything like perfect virtue can be ascertained. 
 
 VI. — The relationship with Theology is also close. That 
 is to say, Plato was not satisfied to construct a science of good 
 and evil, without conjoining the sentiments towards the Gods. 
 His Theology, however, was of his own invention, and adapted 
 to his ethical theory. It was necessary to suppose that the 
 gods were the authors of good, in order to give countenance 
 to virtue. 
 
 Plato was the ally of the Stoics, as against the Epicureans, 
 and of such modern theorists as Butler, who make virtue, 
 and not happiness, the highest end of man. With him, 
 discipline was an end in itself, and not a means ; and he en- 
 deavoured to soften its rigour by his poetical and elevated 
 Idealism. 
 
 Although he did not preach the good of mankind, or direct 
 beneficence, he undoubtedly prepared the way for it, by 
 urging self-denial, which has no issue or relevance, except 
 either by realizing greater happiness to Self (mere exalted
 
 THE CYNICS. 59 
 
 Prudence, approved of bj all sects), or by promoting the 
 welfare of others. 
 
 THE CYNICS AND THE CYRENAICS. 
 
 These opposing sects sprang from Sokrates, and passed, 
 witb little moditication, the one into the Stoics, the other into 
 the Epicureans. Both Antisthenes, the founder of the Cynics, 
 and Akistippus, the founder of the Cyrenaics, were disciples of 
 Sokrates. 
 
 Their doctrines chiefly referred to the Summum Bonum — 
 the Art of Living, or of Happiness. 
 
 The Cynics were most closely allied to Sokrates ; they, in 
 fact, carried out to the full his chosen mode of life. His 
 favourite maxim — that the gods had no wants, and that the 
 most godlike man was he that approached to the same state — 
 was the Cynic Ideal. To subsist upon the narrowest means ; 
 to acquire indifference to pain, by a discipline of endurance ; to 
 despise all the ordinary pursuits of wealth and pleasure, — were 
 Sokratic peculiarities, and were the heau ideal of Cynicism. 
 
 The Cynic succession of philosophers were, (1) Antis- 
 thenes, one of the most constant friends and companions of 
 Sokrates ; (2) Diogenes of Sinope, the pupil of Antisthenes, 
 and the best known type of the sect. (His disciple Krates, a 
 Theban, was the master of Zeno, the first Stoic) (3) 
 Stilpon of Megara, (4) Menedemus of Lretria, (5) Monimus of 
 Syracuse, (6) Kkates. 
 
 The two first heads of the Ethical scheme, so meagrely 
 filled up by the ancient systems generally, are almost a total 
 blank as regards both Cynics and Cyrenaics. 
 
 I. — As regards a Standard of right and wrong, moral good 
 or evil, they recognized nothing but obedience to the laws and 
 customs of society. 
 
 n. — They had no Psychology of a moral faculty, of the will, 
 or of benevolent sentiment. The Cyrenaic Aristippus had a 
 Psychology of Pleasure and Pain. 
 
 The Cynics, instead of discussing Will, exercised it, in one 
 of its most prominent forms, — self-control and endurance. 
 
 Disinterested conduct was no part of their scheme, although 
 the ascetic discipline necessarily promotes abstinence from sins 
 against property, and from all the vices of public ambition, 
 
 III. — The proper description of both systems comes under 
 the Sunoimum Bonum, or the Art of Living. 
 
 The Cynic Ideal was the minimum of wants, the habitua- 
 tion to pain, together with indifference to the common enjoy*
 
 60 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — CYNICS AND CYRENAIC3. 
 
 merits. The compensating reward was exemption from fear, 
 anxiety, and disappointment; also, the pride of superiority to 
 fellow- beings and of approximation to the gods. Looking at 
 the gi'eat predominance of misery in human life, they believed 
 the problem of living to consist in a mastery over all the forms 
 of pain ; until this was first secured, there was to be a total 
 sacrifice of pleasure. 
 
 The Cynics were mostly, like Sokrates, men of robust 
 health, and if they put their physical constitution to a severe 
 test by poor living and exposure to wind and weather, they 
 also saved it from the wear and tear of steady industry and 
 toil. Exercise of body and of mind, with a view to strength 
 and endurance, was enjoined ; but it was the drill of the 
 soldier rather than the drudgery of the artisan. 
 
 In the eyes of the public, the prominent feature of the 
 Cynic was his contemptuous jeering, and sarcastic abuse of 
 everybody around. The name (Cynic, dog-like) denotes this 
 peculiarity. The anecdotes relating to Diogenes illustrate his 
 coarse denunciation of men in general and their luxurious ways. 
 He set at defiance all the conventions of courtesy and of decency ; 
 spoke his mind on everything without fear or remorse ; and 
 delighted in his antagonism to public opinion. He followed 
 the public and obtrusive life of Sokrates, but instead of dia- 
 lectic skill, his force lay in vituperation, sarcasm, and repartee. 
 * To Sokrates,' says Epil.tetus, * Zeus assigned the cross-exa- 
 mining function ; to Uiogenes, the magisterial and chastising 
 function ; to Zeno (the Stoic), the didactic and dogmatical-' 
 
 The Cynics had thus in full measure one of the rewards of 
 asceticism, the pride of superiority and power. They did not 
 profess an end apart from their own happiness ; they believed 
 and maintained that theirs was the only safe road to happiness. 
 They agreed with the Cyrenaics as to the end ; they difibred 
 as to the means. 
 
 The founders of the sect, being men of culture, set great 
 store by education, from which, however, they excluded (as it 
 would appear) both the Artistic and the Intellectual elements 
 of the superior instruction of the time, namely. Music, and 
 the Sciences of Geometry, Astronomy, &c. Plato's writings 
 and teachings were held in low esteem. Physical training, 
 self-denial and endurance, and literary or Rhetorical cultiva- 
 tion, comprise the items taught by Diogenes when he became 
 a slave, and was made tutor to the sons of his master. 
 
 IV". — As to the Moral Code, the Cynics were dissenters 
 from the received usages of society. They disapproved of
 
 ARISTIPPUS. 61 
 
 marriage laws, aud maintained the liberty of individual tastes 
 in the intercourse of the sexes. Beinj]: free-thinkers in religion 
 they had no respect for any of the customs founded on relig-ion. 
 
 V. — The collateral relations of Cynical Ethics to Politics 
 and to Theoloory afford no scope for additional observations. 
 The Cynic and Cyrenaic both stood aloof from the affairs of 
 the state, and were alike disbelievers in the gods. 
 
 The Cynics appear to have been inclined to communism 
 among themselves, which was doubtless easy with their views 
 as to the wants of life. It is thought not unlikely that 
 Sokrates himself held views of communism both as to pro- 
 perty and to wives ; being in this respect also the prompter 
 of Plato (Grant's Ethics of Aristotle, Essay ii.). 
 
 The Cyrenaic system originated with Aristippus of Cyrene, 
 another hearer and companion of Sokrates. The tempera- 
 ment of Aristippus was naturally inactive, easy, and luxurious; 
 nevertheless he set great value on mental cultivation and 
 accomplishments. His conversations with Sokrates form one 
 of the most interesting chapters of Xenophon's Memorabilia, 
 and are the key to the plan of life ultimately elaborated by 
 him. Sokrates finding out his disposition, repeats all the 
 arguments in favour of the severe and ascetic system. He 
 urges the necessity of strength, courage, energy, self-denial, 
 in order to attain the post of ruler over others ; which, how- 
 ever, Aristippus fences by saying that he has no ambition to 
 rule ; he prefers the middle course of a free man, neither ruling 
 nor ruled over. Next, Sokrates recalls the dangers and evil 
 contingencies of subjection, of being oppressed, unjustly treated, 
 sold into slavery, and the consequent wretchedness to one 
 unhardened by an adequate discipline. It is in this argument 
 that he recites the well-known apologue called the choice of 
 Herakles ; in which, Virtue on the one hand, and Pleasure 
 with attendant vice on the other, with their respective conse- 
 quences, are set before a youth in his opening career. The 
 whole argument with Aristippus was purely prudential ; but 
 Aristippus was not convinced nor brought over to the Sokratic 
 ideal. He nevertheloss adopted a no less prudential and self- 
 denying plan of his own. 
 
 Aristippus did not write an account of his system; and the 
 particulars of his life, which would show how he acted it, are 
 but imperfectly preserved. He w^as the first theorist to avow 
 and maintain that Pleasure, and the absence of Pain, are the 
 proper, the direct, the immediate, the sole end of living ; not of 
 course mere present pleasures and present relief from pain, but
 
 62 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— CYNICS AND CYRENAICS. 
 
 present and future taken in one great total. He would sur- 
 render present pleasure, and incur present pain, with a view to 
 greater future good ; but he did not believe in the necessity 
 of that extreme surrender and renunciation enjoined by the 
 Cynics. He gratified all his appetites and cravings within 
 the limits of safety. He could sail close upon the island of 
 Calypso without surrendering himself to the sorceress. In- 
 stead of deadening the sexual appetite he gave it scope, and 
 yet resisted the dangerous consequences of associating with 
 Hetseras. In his enjoyments he was free from jealousies ; 
 thinking it no derogation to his pleasure that others had the 
 same pleasure. Having thus a lair share of natural indul- 
 gences, he dispenses with the Cynic pride of superiority and 
 the luxury of contemning other men. Strength of will was 
 required for this course no less than for the Cynic life. 
 
 Aristippus put forward strongly the impossibility of rea- 
 lizing all the Happiness that might seem within one's reach ; 
 such were the attendant and deterring evils, that many plea- 
 sures had to be foregone by the wise man. S(jmetinies even 
 the foolish person attained more pleasure than the wise ; such 
 is the lottery of life ; but, as a general rule, the fact would be 
 otherwise. The wisest could not escape the natural evils, 
 pain and death ; but envy, passionate love, and superstition, 
 being the consequences of vain and mistaken opinion, might be 
 conquered by a knowledge of the real nature of Good and Evil. 
 
 As a proper appendage to such a system, Aristippus 
 sketched a Psychology of Pleasure and Pain, which was 
 important as a beginning, and is believed to have brought the 
 subject into prominence. The soul comes under three condi- 
 tions, — a gentle, smooth, equable motion, corresponding to 
 Pleasui'e ; a rough, violent motion, which is Pain ; and a calm, 
 quiescent state, indifference or Unconsciousness. More re- 
 markable is the farther assertion that Pleasure is only present 
 or realized consciousness ; the memory of pleasures past, and 
 the idea of pleasures to come, are not to be counted ; the 
 painful accompaniments of desire, hope, and fear, are sufficient 
 to neutralize any enjoyment that may arise from ideal bliss. 
 Consequently, the happiness of a life means the sum total of 
 these moments of realized or present pleasure. He recognized 
 pleasures of the mind, as well as of the body ; sympathy with 
 the good fortunes of friends or country gives a thrill of 
 genuine and lively joy. Still, the pleasures and the pains of 
 the body, and of one's own self, are more intense ; witness 
 the bodily inflictions used in punishing offenders.
 
 THE CHIEF GOOD. 63 
 
 The Cyrenaics denied that there is anything just, or 
 honourable, or base, by nature ; all depended on the laws and 
 customs. These laws and customs the wise man obeys, to 
 avoid punishment and discredit from the society where he 
 lives ; doubtless, also, from higher motives, if the political 
 constitution, and his fellow citizens generally, can inspire him 
 with respect. 
 
 Neither the Cynics nor the Cyrenaics made any profession 
 of generous or disinterested impulses. 
 
 ARISTOTLE. [384-322 b.c] 
 
 Three treatises on Ethics have come down associated with 
 the name of Aristotle ; one large work, the Nicomachean 
 Ethics, referred to by general consent as the chief and im- 
 portant source of Aristotle's views ; and two smaller works, 
 the Eudemian Ethics, and the Magna Moralia, attributed by 
 later critics to his disciples. Even of the large work, which 
 consists of ten books, three books (V. VI. VII.), recurring in 
 the Eudemian Ethics, are considered by Sir A. Grant, though 
 not by other critics, to have been composed by Endemus, the 
 supposed author of this second treatise, and a leading disciple 
 of Aristotle. 
 
 Like many other Aristotelian treatises, the Nicomachean 
 Ethics is deficient in method and consistency on any view 
 of its composition. But the profound and sagacious remarks 
 scattered throughout give it a permanent interest, as the 
 work of a great mind. There may be extracted from it 
 certain leading doctrines, whose point of departure was 
 Platonic, although greatly modified and improved by the 
 genius and personality of Aristotle. 
 
 Our purpose will be best served by a copious abstract of 
 the Nicomachean Ethics. 
 
 Book Eirst discusses the Chief Good, or the Highest End 
 of all human endeavours. Every exercise of the human 
 powers aims at some good ; all the arts of life have their 
 several ends — medicine, ship-building, generalship. Bat the 
 ends of these special arts are all subordinate to some higher end ; 
 which end is the chief good, and the subject of the highest art 
 of all, the Political ; for as Politics aims at the welfare of the 
 state, or aggregate of indviduals, it is identical with and com- 
 prehends the welfare of the individual (Chaps. L, IL). 
 
 As regards the 'method of the science, the highest exactness 
 is not attainable ; the political art studies what is just, 
 honourable, and good ; and these are matters about which the
 
 64 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 utmost discrepancy of Opinion prevails. From sucli premises, 
 the conclusions which we draw can only be probabilities. 
 The man of experience and cultivation will expect nothinf^ 
 more. Youths, who are inexperienced in the concerns of life, 
 and given to follow their impulses, can hardly appreciate our 
 reasoning, and will derive no benefit from it : but reason- 
 able men will find the knowledge highly profitable (HI.)- 
 
 Resuming the main question — What is the highest prac- 
 tical good — the aim of the all-coraprehending political science? 
 — we find an agreement among men as to the name happiness 
 (^evBat/Liovia) ; but great differences as to the nature of the 
 thing. The many regard it as made up of the tangible 
 elements — pleasures, wealth, or honour ; while individuals vary 
 in their estimate according to each man's state for the time 
 being ; the sick placing it in health, the poor in wealth, the 
 consciously ignorant in knowledge. On the other hand, cer- 
 tain philosophers [in allusion to Plato] set up an absolute 
 good, — an Idea of the Good, apart from all the particulars, yet 
 imparting to each its property of being good (IV.). 
 
 Referring to men's lives (as a clue to their notions of the 
 good), we find three prominent varieties ; the life of pleasure 
 or sensuality, — ^the political life, aspiring to honour, — and the 
 contemplative life. The first is the life of the brutes, although 
 countenanced by men high in power. The second is too 
 precarious, as depending on others, and is besides only a means 
 to an end — namely, our consciousness of our own merits ; for 
 the ambitious man seeks to be honoured for his virtue and by 
 good judges — thus showing that he too regards virtue as the 
 superior good. Yet neither will virtue satisfy all the con- 
 ditions. The virtuous man may slumber or pass his life in 
 inactivity, or may experience the maximum of calamity ; and 
 Buch a man cannot be regarded as happy. The money-lender is 
 still less entitled, for he is an unnatural character ; and money 
 is obviously good as a means. So that there remains only the 
 life of contemplation ; respecting which more presently (V.). 
 
 To a review of the Platonic doctrine, Aristotle devotes a 
 whole chapter. He urges against it various objections, very 
 much of a piece with those brought against the theory of Ideas 
 generally. If there be but one good, there should be but 
 one science ; the alleged Idea is merely a repetition of the 
 phenomena; the recognized goods (*.e., varieties of good) cannot 
 be brought under one Idea; moreover, even granting the reality 
 of such an Idea, it is useless for all practical purposes. What 
 GUI' science seeks is Good, human and attainable (VI.).
 
 THE SUPREME END NOT A MEANS. 65 
 
 The Supreme End is what is not only chosen as an End, 
 but is never chosen except as an End : not chosen both for 
 itself and with a view to something ulterior. It must thus 
 be — (1) An end-in-itsclj\ pursued for its own sake ; (2) it 
 musfc farther be self-sufficing, leaving no outstanding wants — 
 man's sociability being taken into account and gratified. 
 Happiness is such an end ; but we must state more clearly 
 wherein happiness consists. 
 
 This will appear, if we examine what is the work appro- 
 priate and peculiar to man. Every artist, the sculptor, car- 
 penter, currier (so too the eye and the hand), has his own 
 peculiar work : and good, to him, consists in his performing 
 that work well. Man also has his appropriate and peculiar 
 work : not merely living — for that he has in common with 
 vegetables ; nor the life of sensible perception — for that he 
 has in common with other animals, horses, oxen, &c. There 
 remains the life of man as a rational being: that is, as a 
 being possessing reason along with other mental elements, 
 which last are controllable or modifiable by reason. This 
 last life is the peculiar work or province of man. For our 
 purpose, we must consider man, not merely as possessing, but 
 as actually exercising and putting in action, these mental 
 capacities. Moreover, when we talk generally of the work or 
 province of an artist, we always tacitly imply a complete and 
 excellent artist in his own craft : and so likewise when we 
 speak of the work of a man, we mean that work as 
 performed by a complete and competent man. Since the 
 work of man, therefore, consists in the active exercise 
 of the mental capapacities, conformably to reason, the 
 supreme good of man will consist in performing this work 
 with excellence or virtue. Herein he vrill obtain happiness, 
 if we assume continuance throughout a full period of life : 
 one day or a short time is not sufiicient for happiness 
 (VII.). 
 
 Aristotle thus lays down the outline of man's supreme 
 Good or Happiness : which he declares to be the beginning or 
 principle ((ipxv) ^^ ^^^^ deductions, and to be obtained in the 
 best way that the subject admits. He next proceeds to com- 
 pare this outline with the various received opinions on the 
 subject of happiness, showing that it embraces much of what 
 has been considered essential by former philosophers : such 
 as being * a good of the mind,' and not a mere external good : 
 being equivalent to 'living well and doing well,' another defi- 
 nition ; consisting in virtue (the Cynics) ; in practical wisdom
 
 6Q EIHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 — (f)p6i'7]erK (Sokrates) ; in philosophy ; or in all these coupled 
 with pleasui'e (Plato, in the Philebus). Agreeing with those 
 who insisted on virtue, Aristotle considers his own theory au 
 improv^ement, byrsqairing virtue in act, and not simply in pos- 
 session. Moreover, he contends that to the virtuous man, vir- 
 tuous performance is in itself pleasurable ; so that no extraneous 
 source of pleasure is needed. Such (he says) is the judgment 
 of the truly excellent man ; Avhich must be taken as conclusive 
 respecting the happiness, as well as the honourable pre-emi- 
 nence of the best mental exercises. Nevertheless, he admits 
 (so far complying with the Cyrenaics) that some extraneous 
 conditions cannot be dispensed with ; the virtuous man can 
 hardly exhibit his virtue in act, without some aid from friends 
 and property ; nor can he be happy if his person is disgusting 
 to behold or his parentage vile (VIII.). 
 
 This last admission opens the door to those that place 
 good fortune in the same line with happiness, and raises the 
 question, how happiness is attained. By teaching? By 
 habitual exercise ? By divine grace ? By Fortune ? If 
 there be any gift vouchsafed by divine grace to man, it ought 
 to be this ; but whether such be the case or not, it is at any 
 raie the most divine and best of all acquisitions. To ascribe 
 such an acquisition as this to Fortune would be absurd. 
 Nature, which always aims at the best, provides that it shall 
 be attained, through a certain course of teaching and training, 
 by all who are not physically or mentally disqualified. It thus 
 falls within the scope of political science, whose object is to 
 impart the best character and active habits to the citizens. It 
 is with good reason that we never call a horse happy, for he 
 can never reach such an attainment ; nor indeed can a child 
 be so called while yet a child, for the same reason ; though in 
 his case we may hope for the future, presuming on a full term 
 of life, as was before postulated (IX.). But this long term 
 allows room for extreme calamities and change in a man's lot. 
 Are we then to say, with Solon, that no one can be called 
 happy so long as he lives ? or that the same man may often 
 pass backwards and forwards from happiness to misery ? No ; 
 this only shows the mistake of resting happiness upon so un- 
 sound a basis as external fortune. The only true basis of it 
 is the active manifestation of mental excellence, which no ill 
 fortune can efface from a man's mind (X.). Such a man will 
 bear calamity, if it comes, with dignity, and can never be 
 made thoroughly miserable. If he be moderately supplied as 
 to external circumstances, he is to be styled happy ; that is,
 
 WHEREIN DOES MaN's EXCELLENCE CONSIST ? 67 
 
 happy as a man — as far as man can reasonably expect. Even 
 after his decease he will be atfected, yet only feebly afi'ected, 
 by the good or ill fortune of his surviviug children. Aristotle 
 evidently assigns little or no value to presumed posthumous 
 happiness (XL). 
 
 In his love of subtle distinctions, he asks, Is happiness a 
 thing admirable in itself, or a thing praiseworthy ? It is ad- 
 mirable in itself; for what is praiseworthy has a relative 
 character, and is pmised as conducive to some ulterior end ; 
 while the chief good must be an End in itself, for the sake of 
 which ever^^thing else is done (XIL). [This is a defective 
 recognition of Relativity.] 
 
 Having assumed as one of the items of his definition, that 
 man's happiness must be in his special or characteristic work, 
 performed with perfect excellence, — Aristotle now proceeds to 
 settle wherein that excellence consists. This leads to a classifi- 
 cation of the parts of the soul. The first distribution is, into 
 Rational and Irrational; whether these two are separable in 
 fact, or only logically separable (like concave and convex), is 
 immaterial to the present enquiry. Of the irrational, the 
 lowest portion is the Vegetative {(pvriKov)^ which seems most 
 active in sleep ; a state where bad men and good are on a par, 
 and which is incapable of any human excellence. The next 
 portion is the Appetitive (eV/^t'/i?;T<«:oV), which is not thus in- 
 capable. It partakes of reason, yet it includes something con- 
 flicting with reason. These conflicting tendencies are usually 
 modiliable by reason, and may become in the temperate man 
 completely obedient to reason. There remains Reason — the 
 highest and sovereign portion of the soul. Human excellence 
 (aptTi'j) or virtue, is either of the Appetitive part, — moral 
 (ijOiKij) virtue; or of the Reason — mtellectu&l (^lapoTjnKi'j) vir- 
 tue. Liberality and temperance are Moral virtues ; philosophy, 
 intelligence, and wisdom, Intellectual (XIIL). 
 
 Such is an outline of the First Book, having for its subject 
 the Chief Good, the Supreme End of man. 
 
 Book Second embraces the consideration of points relative 
 to the Moral Virtues ; it also commences Aristotle's celebrated 
 definition and classification of the virtues or excellencies. 
 
 Whereas intellectual excellence is chiefly generated and 
 improved by teaching, moral excellence is a result of habit 
 (c'6^ov) ; whence its name (Ethical). Hence we may see that 
 moral excellence is no inherent part of our nature : if it were, 
 it could not be reversed by habit — any more than a stone can 
 acquire from any number of repetitions the habit of moving
 
 68 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — AKISTOTLE. 
 
 upward, or fire the habit of moving downward. These moral 
 excellencies are neither a part of uur nature, nor yet contrary 
 to our nature : we are by ua^ture fitted to take them on, buo 
 they are brought to consummation through habit. It is n«jt 
 with them as with our senses, where nature first gives us the 
 power to see and hear, and where we afterwards exercise that 
 power. Moral virtues are acquired only by practice. We 
 learn to build or to play the harp, by building or playing the 
 harp : so too we become just or courageous, by a course of 
 just or courageous acts. This is attested by all lawgivers in 
 their resp.ective cities; all of them shape the characters of 
 their respective citizens, by enforcing habitual practice. Some 
 do it well ; others ill ; according to the practice, so will be 
 the resulting character ; as he that is practised in building 
 badly, will be a bad builder in the end ; and he that begins 
 on. a bad habit of playing the harp, becomes confirmed into a 
 bad player. Hence the importance of making the young 
 perform good actions habitually and from the beginning. 
 The permanent ethical acquirements are generated by uni- 
 form and persistent practice (L). [This is the earliest state- 
 ment of the philosophy of habit^ 
 
 Everything thus turns upon practice: and Aristotle re- 
 minds us that his purpose here is, not simply to teach what 
 virtue is, but to produce virtuous agents. How are we to 
 know what the practice should be ? It must be conformable 
 to right reason : every one admits this, and we shall explain 
 it further in a future book. But let us proclaim at once, 
 that in regard to moral action, as in regard to health, no 
 exact rules can be laid down. Amidst perpetual variability, 
 each agent must in the last resort be guided by the circum- 
 stances of the case. Still, however, something may be done 
 to help him. Here Aristotle proceeds to introduce the famous 
 doctrine of the Mean. We may err, as regards health, both 
 by too much and by too little of exercise, food, or drink. 
 The same holds good in regard to temperance, courage, and 
 the other excellences (II.). 
 
 His next remark is another of his characteristic doctrines, 
 that the test of a formed habit of virtue, is to feel no ^jain ; he 
 that feels pain in brave acts is a coward. Whence he proceeds 
 to illustrate the position, that moral virtue {i]OiKij afjeTij) has 
 to do with pleasures and pains. A virtuous education consists 
 in making us feel pleasure and pain at proper objects, and on 
 proper occasions. Punishment is a discipline of pain. Some 
 philosophers (the Cynics) have been led by this consideratioa 
 
 i
 
 VIRTUE DEFINED. 69 
 
 to make virtue consist in apathy, or insensibility ; bat Aristotle 
 woald regulate, and not extirpate our sensibilities (HI.)* 
 
 But does it not seem a paradox to say (according to the 
 doctrine of habit in I.), that a man becomes just, by performing 
 just actions; since, if he performs just actions, he is already 
 just r' The answer is given by a distinction drawn in a com- 
 parison with the training in the common arts of life. That a 
 man is a good writer or musician, we see by his writing or 
 his music; we take no account of the state of his mind in 
 other respects : if he knows how to do this, it is enough. But 
 in respect to moral excellence, such knowledge is not enough : 
 a man may do just or temperate acts, but he is not necessarily 
 a just or temperate man, unless he does them with right 
 intention and on their own account. This state of the 
 internal mind, which is requisite to constitute the just and 
 temperate man, follows upon the habitual practice of just and 
 temperate acts, and follows upon nothing else. But most 
 men are content to talk without any such practice. They 
 fancy erroneously that knovjiug, without doing, will make a 
 good man. [We have here the reaction against the Sokratic 
 doctrine of virtue, and also the statement of the necessity of 
 2l proper motive^ in order to virtue.] 
 
 Aristotle now sets himself to find a definition of virtue, 
 per genus et differentiarn. There are three qualities in the 
 Soul — Passions {TraOrj), as Desire, Anger, Fear, &c., followed 
 by pleasure or pain ; Capacities or Faculties (^i;i/d^e/s), as our 
 capability of being angry, afraid, affected by pity, &c. ; Fixed 
 tendencies^ acquir en tents, or states (tfetv). To which of the 
 three does virtue or excellence belong ? It cannot be a 
 Passion ; lor passions are not in themselves good or evil, and 
 are not accompanied with deliberate choice {7rpoutpeai<i), will, 
 or intention. Nor is it a Faculty : for we are not praised or 
 blamed because we can have such or such emotions; and 
 moreover our faculties are innate, which virtue is not. 
 Accordingly, virtue, or excellence, must be an acquirement 
 (ef<v) — a State (Y.). This is the yeuus. 
 
 Now, as to the differe7dia, which brings us to a more specific 
 statement of the doctrine of the Mea,n. The specific excel- 
 lence of virtue is to be got at from quantity in the abstract, 
 from which we derive the conceptions of more, less, and 
 equal; or excess, defect, and mean ; the equal being the mean 
 between excess and defect. Bat in the case of moral actions, 
 the arithmetical mean may not hold (for example, six between 
 two and ten) ; it must be a mean relative to the individual :
 
 70' ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 Milo must have more food than a novice in the training 
 Bchool. In the arts, we call a work perfect, when anything 
 either added or taken away would spoil it. Now, virtue, 
 which, like Nature, is better and more exact than any art, has 
 for its subject-matter, passions and actions ; all which are 
 wrong either in defect or in excess. Virtue aims at the mean 
 between them, or the maximum of Good : which implies a 
 correct estimation of all the circumstances of the act, — when 
 we ought to do it — under what conditions — towards whom — 
 for what purpose — in what manner, &c. This is the praise- 
 worthy mean, which virtue aspires to. We may err in many 
 ways (for evil, as the Pythagoreans said, is of the nature of 
 the Infinite, good of the Finite), but we can da right only in 
 one wa}^ ; so much easier is the path of error. 
 
 Combining then this differentia with the genus^ as above 
 established, the complete definition is given thus—' Virtue is 
 an acquirement or fixed state, tending by deliberate purpose 
 Cgenus), towards a mean relative to us (difference).' To which 
 is added the foUow^ing all- important qualification, ' determined 
 by reason (^0709), and as the judicious wan (o (ppovifio'i) would 
 determine.' [Such is the doctrine of the Mean, which com- 
 bines the practical matter-of-fact quality of moderation, recog- 
 nized by all sages, with a high and abstract conception, starting 
 from the Pythagorean remark quoted by Aristotle, 'the Infinite, 
 or Indefinite, is evil, the Finite or the Definite is good,' and 
 re-appearing in Plato as 'conformity to measure' (/a6t/>/oti^9), 
 by which he (Plato) proposes to discriminate between good 
 and evil. The concluding qualification of virtue — ' a rational 
 determination, according to the ideal judicious man' — is an 
 attempt to assign a standard or authority for what is the 
 proper ' Mean ;' an authority purely ideal or imaginary ; the 
 actual authority being always, rightly or wrongly, the society 
 of the time.] 
 
 Aristotle admits that his doctrine of Virtue being a mean, 
 cannot have an application quite universal ; because there are 
 some acts that in their very name connote badness, which 
 are wrong thereibre, not from excess or defect, but in them- 
 selves (VI.}. He next proceeds to resolve his general doc- 
 trine into particulars : enumerating the different virtues 
 stated, each as a mean, between two extremes — Courage, 
 Temperance, Liberality, Magnanimity, Magnificence, Meek- 
 ness, Amiability or Friendliness, Truthlulness, Justice (VIL). 
 They are described in detail in the two following books. In 
 uhap. VIIL, he qualifies his doctrine of Mean and Extremes,
 
 THE VOLUNTARY AND INVOLUNTARY. 71 
 
 by the remark that one Exti-eme may be much farther 
 removed from the Mean than the other. Cowardice and 
 Rashness are the extremes of Courage, but Cowardice is 
 farthest removed from the Mean. 
 
 The concludincic chapter (IX.) of the Book reflects on the 
 great difficulty of hitting the mean in all things, and of 
 correctly estimating all the requisite circumstances, in each 
 particular case. He gives as practical rules: — To avoid at 
 all events the worst extreme ; to keep farthest from our 
 natural bent ; to guard against the snare of pleasure. Slight 
 mistakes on either side are little blamed, but grave and 
 conspicuous cases incur severe censure. Yet how far the 
 censure ought to go, is difficult to lay down beforehand in 
 general terms. There is the same difficulty in regard to all 
 particular cases, and all the facts of sense : which must 
 be left, after all, to the judgment of Sensible Perception 
 
 Book Third takes up the consideration of the Virtues in 
 detail, but prefaces them with a dissertation, occupying live 
 chapters, on the Voluntary and Involuntary. Since praise 
 and blame are bestowed only on voluntary actions, — the in- 
 voluntary being pardoned, and even pitied, — it is requisite to 
 define Volantaiy and Involuntary. What is done under 
 physical compalsion, or through ignorance, is clearly involun- 
 tary. What is done under the fear of greater evils is partly 
 voluntary, and partl}^ involuntary. Such actions are voluntary 
 in the sense of being a man's own actions ; involuntary in 
 that they are not chosen on their ovrn account ; being praised 
 or blamed according to the circumstances. There are cases 
 where it is difficult to say which of two conflicting pressures 
 ought to preponderate, and compulsion is an excuse often 
 misapplied : but compulsion, in its strict sense, is not strength 
 of motive at all ; it is taking the action entirely out of our 
 own hands. As regards Ignorance, a difference is made. 
 Ignorance of a general rule is matter for censure ; ignorance 
 of particular circumstances may be excused. [This became the 
 ftimous maxim of law, — ' Ignorantia facti excusat, ignorantia 
 juris non excusat.'] If the agent, when better informed, 
 repents of his act committed in ignorance, he afibrds good 
 proof that the act done was really involuntary. Acts done 
 from anger or desire (which are in the agent's self) are not to 
 be held as involuntary. ( 1 ) If they were, the actions of brutea 
 and children would be involuntar3\ (2) Some of these acts 
 are morally good and approved. (8) Obligation often attaches
 
 72 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — AEISTOTLB. 
 
 to these feelings. (4) What is done from desire is pleasant ; 
 the involuntary is painful. (5) Errors of passion are to be 
 eschewed, no less than those of reason (I.). 
 
 The next point is the nature of Purpose, Determination, or 
 Deliberate Preference {wpoaipeaiK^, which is in the closest 
 kindred with moral excellence, and is even more essential, in 
 the ethical estimate, than acts themselves. This is a part of the 
 Voluntary ; but not co-extensive therewith. For it excludes 
 sudden and unpremeditated acts ; and is not shared by irra- 
 tional beings. It is distinct from desire, from anger, from wish, 
 and from opinion ; with all which it is sometimes confounded. 
 Desire is often opposed to it ; the incontinent man acts upon 
 his desires, but without any purpose, or even against his pur- 
 pose ; the continent man -acts upon his purpose, but against 
 his desires. Purpose is still more distinct from anger, and is 
 even distinct (though in a less degree) from wish (l3ovXr](nf)j 
 which is choice of the End, while Purpose is of the Means ; 
 moreover, we sometimes wish for impossibilities, known as 
 such, but we never purpose them. Nor is purpose identical 
 with opinion (^o^fi)^ which relates to truth and falsehood, not 
 to virtue and vice. It is among our voluntary proceedings, 
 and includes intelligence ; but is it identical with pre-deli- 
 berated action and its results? (II.) 
 
 To answer this query, Aristotle analyzes the process of 
 Deliberation, as to its scope, and its mode of operation. We 
 exclude from deliberation things Eternal, like the Kosmos, 
 or the incommensurability of the side and the diagonal of a 
 square ; also things mutable, that are regulated by necessity, 
 by nature, or by chance ; things out of our power ; also final 
 ends of action, for we deliberate only about the means to ends. 
 The deliberative process is compared to the investigation of a 
 geometrical problem. We assume the end, and enquire by 
 what means it can be produced ; then again, what will pro- 
 duce the means, until we at last reach something that we our- 
 selves can command. If, after such deliberation, we see our 
 way to execution, we form a Purpose, or Deliberate Preference 
 {■n-jwaipeiji'i'). Purpose is then definable as a deliberative 
 appetency of things in our power (III.). 
 
 Next is started the important question as to the choice of 
 the final JE'7?cZ. Deliberation and Purpose respect means ; our 
 Wish respects the End — but what is the End that we wish ? 
 Two opinions are noticed ; according to one (Plato) we are 
 moved to the good ; according to the other, to the apparent 
 good. Both opinions are unsatisfactory ; the one would make
 
 VIRTUE AND VICE AKE VOLUNTARY. 73 
 
 out an incorrect choice to be no choice at all ; the other would 
 take away all constancy from ends. 
 
 Aristotle settles the point by distino-uishing, in this case 
 as in others, be r, ween what bears a given character simply 
 and absolutely, and what bears the same character relatively 
 to this or that individual. The object of Wish, simply, 
 truly, and absolutely, is the Good; while the object of Wish, 
 to any given individual, is what appears Good to him. But 
 by the Absolute here, Aristotle explains that he means what 
 appears good to the virtuous and intelligent man ; who is 
 is declared, here as elsewhere, to be t^ e infallible standard; 
 while most men, misled by pleasure, choose what is not truly 
 good. In like manner, Aristotle affirms, th^t those substances 
 are truly and absolutely wholesome, which are wholesome to 
 the healthy and well-constituted man ; other substances may 
 be wholesome to the sick or degenerate. Aristotle's Absolute 
 is thus a Relative with its correlate chosen or imagi.ned by 
 himself. 
 
 He then proceeds to maintain that virtue and vice are 
 voluntary, and in our own power. The arguments are these. 
 (1) If it be in our power to act right, the contrary is 
 equally in our own power ; hence vice is as much volun- 
 tary as virtue. (2) Man must be admitted to be the origin 
 of his own actions. (3) Legislators and others punish 
 men for wickedness, and confer honour on good actions ; 
 even culpable ignorance and negligence are punished. (4) 
 Our character itself, or our fixed acquirements, are in our 
 power, being produced by our successive acts ; men be- 
 come intemperate, by acts of drunkenness. (5) Not only 
 the defects of the mind, but the infirmities of the body 
 also, are blamed, when arising through our own neglect and 
 want of training. (6) Even if it should be said that all men 
 aim at the apparent good, but cannot control their mode 
 of conceiving (^(pavrnata) the end; still each person, being by 
 his acts the cause of his own fixed acquirements, must be to a 
 certain extent the cause of his own conceptions. On this head, 
 too, Aristotle repeats the clenching argument, that the sup- 
 posed imbecility of conceiving would apply alike to virtue and 
 to vice ; so that if virtuous action be regarded as voluntary, 
 vicious action must be so regarded likewise. It must be 
 remembered that a man's fixed acquirements or habits are not 
 in his own power, in the same sense and degree in which bis 
 separate acts are in his own power. Each act, from first to 
 last, is alike in his power ; but in regard to the habit, it is 
 4
 
 74 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 only ihe initiation thereof that is thorous^hlj in his power; 
 the habit, like a distemper, is taken on by imperceptible steps 
 in advance (V.)- 
 
 [In the foregoino^ account of the Ethical questions con- 
 nected with the Will, Aristotle is happily nnembroiled with 
 the modern controversy. The m-al-apropos of ' Freedom ' had 
 not been applied to voluntary action. Accordingly, he treats 
 the whole question from the inductive side, distinguishing the 
 cases where people are praised or blamed for their conduct, 
 from those where praise and blame are inapplicable as being 
 powerless. It would have been well if the method had never 
 been departed from ; a sound Psychology would have im- 
 proved the induction, but would never have introduced any 
 question except as to the reliitive strength of the different 
 i'eelings operating as motives to voluntary conduct. 
 
 In one part of his argument, however, where he maintains 
 that vice must be voluntary, because its opposite, virtue, is 
 voluntary, he is already touching on the magical island of the 
 bad enchantress ; allowing a question of fact to be swayed 
 by the notion of factitious dignity. Virtue is assumed to be 
 voluntary, not on the evidence of fact, but because there would 
 be an indignity cast on it, to suppose otherwise. Now, this 
 consideration, which Aristotle gives way to on various occa- 
 sions, is the motive underlying the objectionable metaphor.] 
 
 After the preceding digression on the Voluntary and In- 
 voluntary, Aristotle takes up the consideration of the Virtues 
 in order, beginning with Couragbj, which was one of the 
 received cardinal virtues, and a subject of frequent discussion. 
 (Plato, Laches, Protagoras, Bejmhlic, &c.) 
 
 Courage (oi/C/)t/a), the mean between timidity and fool- 
 hardiness, has to do with evils. All evils are objects of fear ; 
 but there are some evils that even the brave man does right to 
 fear — as disgrace. Poverty or disease he ought not to fear. Yet, 
 he will not acquire the reputation of courage from not fearing 
 these, nor will he acquire it if he be exempt from fear when 
 about to be scourged. Again, if a man be afraid of envy from 
 others, or of insults to his children or wife, he will not for thac 
 reason be regarded as a coward. It is by being superior to the 
 fear of great evils, that a man is extolled as courageous ; and 
 the greatest of evils is death, since it is a final close, as well of 
 good as of evil. Hence the dangers of war are the greatest 
 occasion of courage. But the cause must be honourable (VI. •. 
 
 Thus the key to true courage is the quality or merit of the 
 action. That man is brave, who both fears, and affronts
 
 COURAGE INCLUDES SELF-SACRIFICE. 75 
 
 without fear, what he ought and when he ought : who suffers 
 and acts according to the value of the cause, and according to 
 a right judgment of it. The opp^sites or extremes of courage 
 include (1) Deficiency of fear; (2) Excess of fear, cowardice ; 
 (8) Deficiency of daring, another formula for cowardice ; (4) 
 Excess of daring, Rashness. Between these. Courage is the 
 mean (VIL). 
 
 Aristotle enumerates fi.ve analogous forms of quasi-courage, 
 approaching more or less to '.:enuine courage. (1) The first, 
 most like to the true, is political courage, which is moved to 
 encounter danger by the Punishments and the Honours of 
 society. The desire of honour rises to virtue, and is a noble 
 spring of action. (2) A second kind is the effect of Experi- 
 ence, which dispels seeming terrors, and gives skill to meet 
 real danger. (8) Ajiger, Spirit, Energy {Ov/x6<i) is a species of 
 courage, founded on physical power and excitement, but not 
 under the guidance of high emotions. (4) The Sanguine 
 temperament, by overrating the chances of success, gives 
 courage. (5) Lastly, Ignorance of the danger may have the 
 same effect as courage (VIII.). 
 
 Courage is mainly connected with pain and loss. Men 
 are called brave for the endurance of pain, even although it 
 bring pleasure in the end, as to the boxer who endures bruises 
 from the hope of honour. Death is painful, and most so to 
 the man that by his virtue has made life valuable. Such a 
 man is to be considered more courageous, as a soldier, than a 
 mercenary with little to lose (IX.). 
 
 [The account of Courage thus given is remarkably ex- 
 haustive ; although the constituent parts might have been 
 more carefully disentangled. A clear line should be drawn 
 between two aspects of courage. The one is the resistance 
 to Fear properly so called ; that is, to the perturbation that 
 exaggerates coming evil : a courageous man, in this sense, is 
 one that possesses the true measure of impending danger, and 
 acts according to that, and not according to an excessive 
 measure. The other aspect of Courage, is what gives it all 
 its nobleness as a virtue, namely. Self-sacrifice, or the de- 
 liberate encountering of evil, for some honourable or virtuous 
 cause. When a man knowingly risks his life in battle for his 
 country, he may be called courageous, but he is still better 
 described as a heroic and devoted man. 
 
 Inasmuch as the leading form of heroic devotion, in the 
 ancient world, was exposure of life in war. Self-sacrifice was 
 presented under the guise of Courage, and had no independent
 
 76 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — AKISTOTLE. 
 
 standing as a cardinal virtue. From this circumstance, 
 paganism is made to appear iu a somewhat disadvantageous 
 light, as regards self-denying dutietf.] 
 
 Next in order among the excellences or virtues of the 
 irrational department of mind is Temperance, or Moderation, 
 (atvcpfjoovi'Tj^, a mean or middle state in the enjoyment of plea- 
 sure. Pleasures are mental and bodily. With the mental, as 
 love of learning or of honour, temperance is not concerned. 
 Nor with the bodily pleasures of muscu'ir exercise, of hearing 
 and of smell, but only with the animal pleasures of touch and 
 taste: in fact, sensuality resides in touch; the pleasure of 
 eating being a mode ol' contact (X.). 
 
 In the desires natural and common to men, as eating and 
 the nuptial couch, men are given to err, and error is usually on 
 the side of excess. But it is in the case of special tastes or pre- 
 ferences, that people are most frequently intemperate. Tem- 
 perance does not apply to enduring pains, except those of 
 abstinence from pleasures. The extreme of insensibility to 
 pleasure is rarely found, and has no name. The temperate 
 man has the feelings of pleasure and pain, but moderates his 
 desires according to right reason (XL). He desires what he 
 ought, when he ought, and as he ought : correctly estimating 
 each separate case (XII.). The question is raised, which is most 
 voluntary, Cowardice or Intemperance? (1) Intemperance 
 is more voluntary than Cowardice, for the one consists in 
 choosing pleasure, while in the other there is a sort of com- 
 pulsory avoidance of pain. (2) Temperance is easier to 
 acquire as a habit than Courage. (3) In Intemperance, the 
 particular acts are voluntary, although not the habit; in 
 Cowardice, the first acts are involuntary, while by habit, it 
 tends to become voluntary (XII.). 
 
 [Temperance is the virtue most suited to the formula of 
 the Mean, although the settling of what is the mean depends 
 after all upon a man's own judgment. Aristotle does not 
 recognize asceticism as a thing existing. His Temperance is 
 moderation in the sensual pleasures of eating and love.] 
 
 Book Fourth proceeds with the examination of the Vir- 
 tues or Ethical Excellences. 
 
 Liberality (6\6w%no'T?;s>), in the matter of property, is the 
 mean of Prodigality and II liberality. The right uses of 
 money are spending and giving. Liberality consists in giving 
 willingly, from an honourable motive, to proper persons, in 
 proper quantities, and at proper times ; each individual case 
 being measured by correct reason. If such measure be not
 
 LIBERALITY. — MAGXIFICENC K. — MAGNANIMITY. 77 
 
 taken, or if the gift be not made willingly, it is not liberality. 
 The liberal man is often so free as to leave little to himself. 
 This virtue is one more frequent in the inheritors than in the 
 makers of fortunes. Liberality beyond one's means is prodi- 
 gality. The liberal man will receive only from proper sources 
 and in proper quantities. Of the extremes, prodigality is 
 more curable than illiberality. The faults of prodigality are, 
 that it must derive supplies from improper sources; that it 
 gives to the wrong objects, and is usually accompanied with 
 intemperance. Illiberality is incurable : it is confirmed by 
 age, and is more congenial to men generally than prodigality. 
 Some of the illiberal fall short in giving — those called stingy, 
 close-fisted, and so on ; but do not desire what belongs to 
 other people. Others are excessive in receiving from all 
 sources ; such are they that ply disreputable trades (I.). 
 
 Magnificence (/ne~i(i\o7rpe7rec'a) is a grander kind of Liber- 
 ality ; its characteristic is greatness of expenditure, with suit- 
 ableness to the person, the circumstances, and the purpose. 
 The magnificent man takes correct measure of each ; he is in 
 his wav a man of science (o ^e ixe^iaXoTrpeiri^^ iTria-Triixovi eome — 
 II.). The' motive must be honourable, the outlay unstinted, 
 and the effect artistically splendid. -The service of the gods, 
 hospitality to foreigners, public works, and gifts, are proper 
 occasions. Magnificence especially becomes the well-born 
 and the illustrious. The house of the magnificent man will 
 be of suitable splendour ; everything that he does will show 
 taste and propriety. The extremes, or corresponding defects 
 of character, are, on the one side, vulgar, tasteless profusion, 
 and on the other, meanness or pettiness, which for some 
 paltry saving will spoil the effect of a great outlay (II.). 
 
 Magnanimity, or High-mindedness {fxe^iaXoylrvxtci), loftiness 
 of spirit, is the culmination of the virtues. It is concerned 
 with greatness. The high-minded man is one that, being 
 worthy, rates himself at his real worth, and neither more 
 (which is vanity) nor less (which is littleness of mind). Now, 
 worth has reference to external goods, of which the greatest is 
 honour. The high-minded man must be in the highest degree 
 honourable, for which he must be a good man ; honour being 
 the prize of virtue. He will accept honour only from the good, 
 and will despise dishonour, knowing it to be undeserved. In 
 all good or bad fortune, he will behave with moderation ; in 
 not highly valuing even the highest thing of all, honour itself, 
 he may seem to others supercilious. Wealth and fortune contri- 
 bute to high-mindedness ; but most of all, superior goodness;
 
 78 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 Im 1 
 
 for the character cannot exist without perfect virtue. The 
 high-minded man neither shuns nor conns danger; nor is he 
 indisposed to risk even his Hfe. He gives favours, but does 
 not accept them ; he is proud to the great, but affable to the 
 lowly. He attempts only great and important matters ; is 
 open in friendship and in hatred ; truthful in conduct, with an 
 ironical reserve. He talks little, either of himself or of others ; 
 neither desiring his own praise, nor caring to utter blame. 
 He wonders at nothing, bears no malice, is no gossip, llis 
 movements are slow, his voice deep, his diction stately (III.). 
 
 There is a nameless virtue, a mean between the two 
 extremes of too much and too little ambition, or desire of 
 honour ; the reference being to smaller matters and to ordi- 
 nary men. The fact that both extremes are made terms of 
 reproach, shows that there is a just mean ; while each extreme 
 alternately claims to be the virtue, as against the other, since 
 there is no term to express the mean (IV.). 
 
 Mildness {Trpaon^^) is a mean state with reference to Anger, 
 although inclining to the defective side. The exact mean, 
 which has no current name, is that state wherein the agent 
 is free from perturbation (ot^yjo;^©?), is not impelled by pas- 
 sion, but guided by reason ; is angry when he ought, as 
 he ought, with whom, and as long as, he ought: taking 
 right measure of all the circumstances. Not to Idc angry on 
 the proper provocation, is folly, insensibility, slavish sub- 
 mission. Of those given to excess in anger, some are quick, 
 impetuous, and soon appeased; others are sulky, repressing 
 and perpetuating their resentment. It is not easy to define 
 the exact mean ; each case must be left to individual per- 
 ception (V.). 
 
 The next virtue is Good-breeding in society, a balance 
 between surliness on the one hand, and weak assent or inter- 
 ested flattery on the other. It is a nameless virtue, resem- 
 bling friendship without the special affection. Aristotle 
 shows what he considers the bearingf of the finished e^entle- 
 man, studying to give pleasure, and jet expressing disappro- 
 bation when it would be wrong to do otherwise (VI.). 
 
 Closely allied to the foregoing is the observance of a due 
 mean, in the matter of Boastfulness. The boastful lay claim 
 to what they do not possess ; false modesty (etpwinia) is deny- 
 ing or underrating one's own merits. The balance of the 
 two is the straightforward and truthful character ; asserting 
 just what belongs to him, neither more nor less. This is a 
 kind of truthfulness, — distinguished from ' truth' in its more
 
 JUSTICE— DISTKIBUTIVE AND CORRECTIVE. 79 
 
 Berions aspect, as discriminating between justice and injustice 
 — and has a worth of its own ; for he that is truthful in little 
 things will be so in more important affairs (VII.). 
 
 In the playful intercourse of society, there is room for 
 the virtue of Wit, a balance or mean between buffoonish 
 excess, and the clownish dulness that can neither make nor 
 enjoy a joke. Here the man of refinement must be a law to 
 himself (VIII.). 
 
 Modesty (alcw^) is briefly described, without being put 
 through the comparison with its extremes. It is more a 
 feeling than a state, or settled habit. It is the fear of ill- 
 report ; and has the physical expression of fear under danger 
 — the blushing and the pallor. It befits youth as the age of 
 passion and of errors. In the old it is no virtue, as they 
 should do nothing to be ashamed of (IX.). 
 
 Book Fifth (the first of the so-called Eudemian books), 
 treats of Justice, the Social virtue by pre-eminence. Justice 
 as a virtue is defined, the state of mind, or moral disposition, 
 to do what is just. The question then is —what is the just and 
 the unjust in action? The words seem to have more senses 
 than one. The just may be (1) the Lawful, what is estab- 
 lished by law; which includes, therefore, all obedience, and all 
 moral virtue (for every kind of conduct came under public 
 regulation, in the legislation of Plato and Aristotle). Or (2) 
 the just may be restricted to the fair and equitable as regards 
 property. In both senses, however, justice concerns our be- 
 haviour to some one else : and it thus stands apart from the 
 other virtues, as (essentially and in its first character) seeking 
 another's good — not the good of the agent himself (I.). 
 
 The first kind of justice, which includes all virtue, called 
 Universal Justice, being set aside, the enquiry is reduced to 
 the Particular Justice, or Justice proper and distinctive. Of 
 this there are two kinds. Distributive and Corrective (II.) • 
 Distributive Justice is a kind of equality or proportion in the 
 distribution of property, honours, &c., in the State, according 
 to the merits of each citizen ; the standard of worth or merit 
 being settled by the constitution, whether democratic, oli- 
 garchic, or aristocratic (HI.). Corrective, or Keparative 
 Justice takes no account of persons ; but, looking at cases 
 where unjust loss or gain has occurred, aims to restore the 
 balance, by striking an arithmetical mean (IV.). The Pytha- 
 gorean idea, that Justice is Retaliation, is inadequate ; pro- 
 portion and other circumstances must be included. Propor- 
 tionate Retaliation, or Reciprocity of services, — as in the case
 
 80 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 of Commercial Exchange, meastired throngh the instrument 
 of money, with its definite value, — is set forth as the great 
 bond of society. Just dealing is the mean between doing 
 injustice and suffering injustice (V.). Justice is definitely 
 connected with Law, and exists only between citizens of the 
 State, and not between father and children, master and slave, 
 between whom there is no law proper, but only a sort of rela- 
 tion analogous to law (VI.). Civil Justice is partly Natural, 
 partly conventional. The natural is what has the same 
 force everywhere, whether accepted or not ; the conventional 
 varies with institutions, acquirins- all its force from adoption 
 by law, and being in itself a matter of indifference prior to 
 such adoption. Some persons regard all Justice as thus 
 conventional. They say — ' What exists by nature is un- 
 changeable, and has everywhere the same power ; for example, 
 fire burns alike in Persia and here ; but we see regulations of 
 justice often varied — differing here and there,' This, however, 
 is not exactly the fact, though to a certain extent it is the 
 fact. Among the gods indeed, it perhaps is not the fact at 
 all : but among men, it is true that there exists something by 
 nature changeable, though everything is not so. Neverthe- 
 less, there are some things existing by nature, other things 
 not by nature. And we can plainly see, among those matters 
 that admit of opposite arrangement, which of them belong 
 to nature and which to law and convention ; and the same 
 distinction will tit in other cases also. Thus the right hand 
 is by nature more powerful than the left ; yet it is possible 
 that all men may become ambidextrous. Those regulations 
 of justice that are not by nature, but by human appointment, 
 are not the same everywhere ; nor is the political constitution 
 everywhere the same ; yet there is one political constitution 
 only that is by nature the best everywhere (VI f.). 
 
 To constitute Justice and Injustice in acts, the acts must 
 be voluntary ; there being degrees of culpability in injustice 
 according to the intention, the premeditation, the greater or 
 less knowledge of circumstances. The act that a person 
 does may perhaps be unjust ; but he is not, on that account, 
 always to be regarded as an unjust man (VIII.). 
 
 Here a question arises, Can one be injured voluntarily ? It 
 seems not, for what a man consents to is not injury. Nor can 
 a person injure himself. Injury is a relationship between two 
 pai^ties (IX.). Equity does not contradict, or set aside, 
 Justice, but is a higher and finer kind of justice, coming in 
 where the law is too rough and general.
 
 THE INTELLECTUAL EXCELLENCES OR VIRTUES. 81 
 
 Book Sixth treats of Intellectual Excellence^, (v Virtues 
 of the Intellect. It thus follows out the large definition of 
 virtue qiven at the outset, and repeated m detail as coucernu 
 each of the ethical or moral virtues successively. 
 
 According- to the views most received at present, Morality 
 is an affair of conscience and sentiment ; little or nothing ia 
 said about estimating the full circumstances and consequences 
 of each act, except that there is no time to calculate correctly, 
 and that the attempt to do so is generally a pretence for evad- 
 ing the peremptory order of virtuous sentiment, which, if faith- 
 fully obeyed, ensures vdrtuous action in each particular case. 
 If these views be adopted, an investigation of our intellectual 
 excellences would find no place in a treatise on Ethics. But 
 the theory of Aristotle is altogether different. Though be 
 recognizes Emotion and Intellect as inseparably implicated 
 in the mind of Ethical agents, yet the sovereign authority 
 that he proclaims is not Conscience or Sentiment, but 
 Reason. The subordination of Sentiment to Reason is with 
 him essential. Jt is true that Reason must be supplied 
 with First Principles, whence to take its start; and these 
 First Principles are here declared to be, fixed emotional states 
 or dispositions, engendered in the mind of the agent by a suc- 
 cession of similar acts. But even these dispositions them- 
 selves, though not belonging to the department of Reason, are 
 not exempt from the challenge and scrutiny of Reason ; while 
 the proper application of the-n in act to the complicated 
 realities of life, is the work of Reason altogether. Such an 
 ethical theory calls upon Aristotle to indicate, more or less 
 fully, those intellectual excellences, whereby alone we are 
 enabled to overcome the inherent diflB.culties of right ethical 
 conduct ; and he indicates them in the present Book, compar- 
 ino- them with those other intellectual excellences which guide 
 our theoretical investigations, where conduct is not directly 
 concerned. 
 
 In specifying the ethical excellences, or excellences of dis- 
 position, we explained that each of them aimed to realize a 
 mean— and that this mean was to be determined by Right 
 Reason. To find the mean, is thus an operation of the Intel- 
 lect ; and we have now to explain what tlie right performance 
 of it is, — or to enter upon the Excellences of the Intellect. 
 The soul having been divided into Irrational and Rational, 
 the Rational must farther be divided into two parts, — the 
 Scientific (dealing with necessary matter), the Calculative, or 
 Deliberative (dealing with contingent matter). We must
 
 82 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 touch upon the excellence or best condition of both of them (T.). 
 There are three principal functions of the soul — Sensation, 
 Reason, and Appetite or Desire. Now, Sensation (which 
 beasts have as well as men) is not a principle of moral action. 
 The Reason regards truth and falsehood only; it does not 
 move to action, it is not an end in itself. Appetite or Desire, 
 which aims at an end, introduces us to moral action. Truth 
 and Falsehood, as regards Reason, correspond to Good and Evil 
 as regards Appetite : Affirmation and Negation, with the first, 
 are the analogues of Pursuit and Avoidance, with the second. 
 In purpose, which is the principle of moral action, there is 
 included deliberation or calculation. Reason and Appetite are 
 thus combined ; Good Purpose comprises both true affirmation 
 and right pursuit : you may call it either an Intelligent Appe- 
 tite, or an Appetitive Intelligence. Such is man, as a principle 
 
 of action (?y Toiaviij ap-y^Yi av6pu)7ro<s^. 
 
 Science has to do with the necessary and the eternal ; it 
 is teachable, but teachable always from prcecognita, or prin- 
 ciple?, obtained by induction ; from which principles, conclu- 
 sions are demonstrated by syllogism (III.). Art, or Produc- 
 tion, is to be carefully distinguished from the action or 
 agency that belongs to man as an ethical agent, and that 
 does not terminate in any separate assignable product. But 
 both the one and the other deal with contingent matters 
 only. Art deals for the most part with the same matters 
 as are subject to the intervention of Fortune or Chance 
 
 Prudence or Judiciousness (cppovijcji^', the quality of o 
 <pf}dvifio'i), the Practical Reason, comes next. We are told 
 what are the matters wherewith it is, and wherewith it 
 IS not, conversant. It does not deal with matters wherein 
 there exist art, or with rules of art. It does not deal with 
 necessary matters, nor with matters not modifiable by human 
 agency. The prudent or judicious man is one who (like 
 Pericles) can accurately estimate and foresee matters (apart 
 from Science and Art) such as are good or evil for him- 
 self and other human beings. On these matters, feelings of 
 pleasure or pain are apt to bias the mind, by insinuating 
 wrong aims ; which they do not do in regard to the properties 
 of a triangle and other scientific conclusions. To guard 
 against such bias, the judicious man must be armed with the 
 ethical excellence described above as Temperance or Modera- 
 tion. Judiciousness is not an Art, admitting of better and 
 worse; there are not good judicious men, and bad judicious
 
 THE INTELLECTUAL ELEMENT IN MOEAL "VIRTUE. 83 
 
 men, as there are good and bad artists. Judicionsness is 
 itself an excellence (i.e. the term connotes excellence) — 
 an excellence of the rational soul, and of that branch 
 of the rational soul which is calculating, deliberative, not 
 scientific (V.). Reason or Intellect (i/o<)§) is the faculty 
 for apprehending the first principles of demonstrative science. 
 It is among the infallible faculties of the mind, together 
 with Judiciousness, Science, and Philosophy. Each of 
 these terms connotes truth and accuracy (VI.). Wisdom in 
 the arts is the privilege of the superlative artists, such as 
 Phidias in sculpture. But there are some men wise, not in 
 any special art, but absolutely ; and this wisdom (aocpia) is 
 Philosophy. It embraces both principles of science (which 
 Aristotle considers to come under the review of the First 
 Philosophy) aud deductions therefrom ; it is vov<i and eTriaTJ/itrj 
 in one. It is more venerable and dignified than Prudence or 
 Judiciousness ; because its objects, the Kosmos and the celes- 
 tial bodies, are far more glorious than man, with whose in- 
 terests alone Prudence is concerned ; and also because the 
 celestial objects are eternal and unvarying ; while man and 
 his affairs are transitory and ever fluctuating. Hence the 
 great honour paid to Thales, Anaxagoras, and others, who 
 speculated on theories thus magnificent and superhuman, 
 though useless in respect to human good. 
 
 We have already said that Prudenco or Judiciousness is 
 good counsel on human interests, with a view to action. But 
 we must also add that it comprises a knowledge not of uni- 
 versals merel}^, but also of particulars ; and experienced men, 
 much conversant with particulars, are often better qualified for 
 action than inexperienced men of science (VII.). Prudence 
 is the same in its intellectual basis as the political science or 
 art — yet looked at in a different aspect. Both of them are 
 practical and consultative, respecting matters of human good 
 and evil ; but prudence, in the stricter sense of the word, con- 
 cerns more especially the individual self ; still, the welfare of 
 the individual is perhaps inseparable from household and state 
 concerns. Prudence farther implies a large experience; whence 
 boys, who can become good mathematicians, cannot have prac- 
 tical judgment or prudence. In consultation, we are liable to 
 error both in regard to universals, and in regard to particulars ; 
 it is the business of prudence, as well as of the political science, 
 to guard against both. That prudence is not identical with 
 Science, is plain enough ; for Science is the intermediate pro- 
 cess between the first principles and the last conclusions;
 
 84: ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 whereas prudence consists chiefly in seizing these last, which 
 are the applications of reasoning, and represent the particular 
 acts to be done. Prudence is the counterpart of Reason (NoD?) 
 or Intellect, but at the opposite extremity of the mental pro- 
 cess. For Intellect (Not)?) apprehends the extreme Univer- 
 sals, — the first principles, — themselves not deducible, but from 
 which deduction starts ; while Prudence fastens on the ex- 
 treme particulars, which are not known by Science, bat by 
 sensible Perception. We mean here by sensible Perception, 
 not what is peculiar to any of the five senses, but wiiat is 
 common to them all — whereby we perceive that the triangle 
 before us is a geometrical ultimatum, and that it is the 
 final subject of application for all the properties previously 
 demonstrated to belong to triangles generally. The mind will 
 stop here in the downward march towards practical applica- 
 tion, as it stopped at first principles in the upward march. 
 Prudence becomes, however, confounded with sensible per- 
 ception, when we reach this stage. [The statement here given 
 involves Aristotle's distinction of the proper and the common 
 Sensibles ; a shadowing out of the muscular element in sensa- 
 tion] (VIII.). 
 
 Good counsel (ev/SovXia) Is distinguished from various 
 other qualities. It is, in substance, choosing right means 
 to a good end ; the end being determined by the great faculty 
 — Prudence or Judiciou'^ness (IX.). Sagacity (avueffis) is 
 a just intellectual mcabure in regard to the business of life, 
 individual and social ; critical ability in appreciating and in- 
 terpreting the phenomena of experience. It is distinguished 
 from Prudence in this respect — that Prudence carries infer- 
 ences into Practice (X.). Considerateness {^ivw^nj) is another 
 intellectual virtue, with a practical bearing. It is that virtue 
 whereby we discern the proper occasions for indulgent con- 
 struction, softening the rigour of logical consistency. It is 
 the source of equitable decisions. 
 
 The different intellectual excellences just named — Con- 
 Biderateness, Sagacity, Prudence (0/joV/;fT<s), and Intellect 
 (Noi)?), seem all to bear on the same result, and are for the 
 most part predicable of the same individuals. All of them 
 are concerned with the ultimate applications of principle to 
 practice, and with the actual moments for decision and action. 
 Indeed, Intellect (Not)s) deals with the extremes at both ends 
 of the scale : with the highest and lowest terms. In theoreti- 
 cal science, it apprehends and sanctions the major proposi- 
 tions, the first and highest ^rincipia of demonstrations ; in
 
 THEORY OF PKUDENCE. 85 
 
 practical dealinors, it estimates the minor propositions of the 
 sjllosrism, the possibilities of the situation, and the ultimate 
 action required. All these are the principia from whence 
 arises the determining motive: for the universal is always 
 derived from particulars ; these we must know through sen- 
 sible perception, which is in this case the same thing as intel- 
 lect (\of)'?). Intellect is in fact both the beginning and the 
 end : it cognizes both the first grounds of demonstration and 
 the last applications of the results of demonstration. A man 
 cannot acquire science by nature, or without teaching : but 
 he may acquire Intellect and Sagacity by nature, simply 
 through long life and abundant experience. The afiirmations 
 and opinions of old men deserve attention, hardly less than 
 demonstrations : they have acquired an eye from experience, 
 and can thus see the practical principles (thousi:h they may 
 not be able to lay out their reasons logically) (XI.). 
 
 But an objector may ask — Of what use are Philosophy 
 and Prudence ? He may take such grounds as these. (1) 
 Philosophy has no practical aim at all ; nor does it consiaer 
 the means of happiness ? (2) Prudence, though bearing on 
 practice, is merely knowledge, and does not ensure right 
 action. (3) Even granting the knowledge to be of value as 
 direction, it might be obtained, like medical knowledge, from 
 a professional adviser. (4) If philosophy is better than 
 prudence, why does prudence control philosophy ? We have 
 to answer these doubts. The first is answered by asserting 
 the independent value of philosophy and prudence, as perfec- 
 tions of our nature, and as sources of happiness in themselves. 
 The second and third doubts are set at rest, by afiirming 
 prudence to have no existence apart from virtue. Without a 
 virtuous aim, there is no such thing as Prudence : there is 
 nothing but cleverness degenerating into cunning ; while 
 virtue without virtuous prudence is nothing better than a mere 
 instinct, liable to be misguided in every way (XII.). 
 
 There is one more difficulty to be cleared up respecting 
 virtue. All our dispositions, and therefore all our ethical 
 excellences, come to us in a certain sense by nature ; that is, 
 we have from the moment of birth a certain aptitude for 
 becoming temperate, courageous, just, &c. But these natural 
 aptitudes or possessions (^cpvacicai e^€i<f) are something alto- 
 gether distinct from the ethical excellences proper, though 
 capable of being matured into them, if intellect and prudence 
 be superadded. Sok rates was mistaken in resolving all the 
 virtues into prudence ; but he was right in saying that none
 
 86 ETHICAL SYSTEMS - ARISTOTLE. 
 
 of them can exist without prudence. The virtues ought to 
 be defined as, not merely ethical dispositions according to right 
 reason, but ethical dispositions aloatj ivitli right reason or 
 prudence (i.e.^ prudence is an ever present co-efficient). It 
 is thus abundantly evident that none but a prudent man can 
 be good, and none but a good man can be prudent. The 
 virtues are separable from each other, so far as the natural 
 aptitudes are concerned : a man may have greater facility for 
 acquiring one than another. But so far as regards the finished 
 acquirements of excellence, in virtue of which a man is called 
 good — no such separation is possible. All of them alike need 
 the companionship of Prudence (XIII.). 
 
 Book Seventh has two Parts. Part first discusses the 
 grades of moral strength and moral weakness. Part second 
 is a short dissertation on Pleasure, superseded by the superior 
 handling of the subject in the Tenth Book. 
 
 With reference to moral power, in self-restraint, six 
 grades are specified. (1) God-like virtue, or reason impelling 
 as well as directing. (2) The highest human virtue, ex- 
 pressed by Temperance (cft»;0/>o(Ti'j/>/)— appetite and passion 
 perfectly harmonized with reason. (3) Continence (er-/hpd7eia) 
 or the mastery of reason, after a struggle. (4) Incontinence, 
 the mastery of appetite or passion, but not without a struggle. 
 (5) Vice, reason perverted so as to harmonize entirely with 
 appetite or passion. (6) Bestiality, naked appetite or passion, 
 without reason. Certain prevalent opinions are enumerated, 
 which are to form the subject of the discussions following — 
 (1) Continence and endurance are morally good. (2) The 
 Continent man sticks to his opinion. (3) The Incontinent 
 err knowingly. (4) Temperance and Continence are the 
 same. (5) Wise and clever men may be Incontinent. (6) 
 Incontinence applies to other things than Pleasure, as anger, 
 honour, and gain (I.). 
 
 The third point (the Incontinent sin knowingly) is first 
 mooted. Sokrates held the contrary; he made vice and 
 ignorance convertible. Others think that the knowledge 
 possessed by the incontinent is mere opinion, or a vague and 
 weak conviction. It is objected to No. 4, that continence 
 implies evil desires to be controlled ; while temperance 
 means the character fully harmonized. As to No. 2, Con- 
 tinence must often be bad, if it consists in sticking to an 
 opinion (II.). 
 
 The third point, the only question of real interest or diffi- 
 culty, is resumed at greater length. The distinction between
 
 MORAI. STRENGTH AND MORAL WEAKNESS. 87 
 
 knowledge and opinion (the liigher and the lower kinds of 
 knowledge) does not settle the qnestion, for opinion may be 
 as strong as knowledge. The real point is, what is meant hj 
 leaving knowledge ? A man's knowledge may be in abeyance, 
 as it is when he is asleep or intoxicated. Thas, we may have 
 in the mind two knowledges (like two separate syllogisms), 
 one leading to continence, the other to incontinence ; the hrsb 
 is not drawn out, like the syllogism wanting a minor ; hence 
 it may be said to be not present to the mind ; so that, in a 
 certain sense, Sokrates was right in denying that actual and 
 present knowledge could be overborne. Vice is a form of 
 oblivion (HI.). 
 
 The next question is, what is the object-matter of incon- 
 tinence ; whether there is any man incontinent simply and 
 absolutely (without any specification of wherein), or whether 
 all incontinent men are so in regard to this or that particular 
 matter? (No. 6). The answer is, that it applies directly to 
 the bodily appetites and pleasures, which are necessary up to 
 a certain point (the sphere of Temperance), and then he that 
 commits unreasonable excess above this point is called Incon- 
 tinent simply. But if he commits excess in regard to plea- 
 sures, which, though not necessary, are natural and, up to a 
 certain point, reasonable — such as victory, wealth, honour — • 
 we designate him as incontinent, yet with a specification of 
 the particular matter (IV.). 
 
 The modes of Bestiality, as cannibalism and unnatural 
 passion, are ascribed to morbid depravity of nature or of 
 habits, analogous to disease or madness (V.). 
 
 Incontinence in anger is not so bad as Incontinence in 
 lust, because anger (1) has more semblance of reason, (2) is 
 more a matter of constitution, (3) has less of deliberate pur- 
 pose — wliile lust is crafty, (4) arises under pain, and not from 
 wantonness (VI.). 
 
 Persons below the average in resisting iileasures are in- 
 continent; those below the average in resisting pains are soft 
 or effeminate. The mass of men mcline to both weaknesses. 
 He that deliberately pursues excessive pleasures, or other 
 pleasures in an excessive way, is said to be abandoned. The in- 
 temperate are -worse than the incontinent. Sport, in its exces.^, 
 is effeminacy, as being relaxation from toil. There are two kinds 
 of incontinence : the one proceeding from precipitancy, where 
 a man acts without deliberating at all ; the other from feeble- 
 ness, — where he deliberates, but where the result of deliberation 
 is too weak to countervail his appetite (VII.). Intemperance or
 
 88 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — AEISTOTLE. 
 
 profligacy is more vicious, and less curable than Incontinence. 
 The profligate man is one who has in him no principle {(ipx'l) 
 of good or of right reason, and who does wrong without after- 
 wards repenting of it ; the incontinent man has the good 
 principle in him, but it is overcome when he does wrong, and 
 he afterwards repents (VIII.). Here, again, Aristotle denies 
 that sticking to one's opinions is, per se, continence. The 
 opinion may be wrong ; in that case, if a man sticks to it, 
 prompted by mere self-assertion and love of victory, it is a 
 species of incontinence. One of the virtues of the continent 
 man is to be open to persuasion, and to desert one's resolu- 
 tions for a noble end (IX.). Incontinence is like sleep or 
 drunkenness as opposed to wakefal knowledge. The incon- 
 tinent man is like a state having good laws, but not acting on 
 them. The incontinence of passion is more curable than that 
 of weakness ; what proceeds from habit more than what is 
 natural (X.). 
 
 The Eighth and Ninth Books contain the treatise on 
 Friendship. 
 
 The subject deserves a place in an Ethical treatise, because 
 of its connexion with virtue and with happiness. Several 
 questions have been debated concerning Friendship, — Is 
 it based on likeness or unlikeness ? Can bad men be 
 friends ? Is there but one species of Friendship, or more 
 than one ? (I.) Some progress towards a solution of these 
 questions may be made by considering what are the objects of 
 liking ; these are the good, the pleasant, the useful. By the 
 good is not meant the absolute good of Plato, but the ap- 
 parent good. Inanimate things must be excluded, as wanting 
 reciprocation (II.). The varieties of friendship follow these 
 three modes of the likeable. The friendships for the useful 
 and the pleasant, are not disinterested, but self-seeking ; they 
 are therefore accidental and transitory ; they do not involve 
 intimate and frequent association. Friendship for the good, 
 and between the virtuous, is alone perfect ; it is formed slowly, 
 and has the requisites of permanence. It occurs rarely (III.). 
 As regards the useful and the pleasant, the bad may be friends. 
 It may happen that two persons are mutually pleasant to each 
 other, as lover and beloved ; while this lasts, there is friend- 
 Bhip. It is only as respects the good, that there exists a per- 
 manent liking for the person. Such friendship is of an abso- 
 lute nature; the others are accidental (IV.). Friendship isia 
 fall exercise only during actual intercourse ; it may exist 
 potentially at a distance ; but in long absence, there is danger
 
 CONDITIONS OF FPvIENDSHIP. 89 
 
 of its being dissolved. Friendship is a settled state or habit, 
 while fondness is a mere passion, wnich does not imply oar 
 wishin'jr to do ^ood to the object of it, as friendsliip does (V.). 
 The perfect kind of friendship, from its intensity, cannot be 
 exercised towards more than a small numbei'. In regard to 
 the asetul and the pleasant, on the other hand, there may be 
 friendship with many ; as the friendship towards tradesmea 
 and between the yoang. The happy desire pleasant friends. 
 Men in power have two classes of friends ; one for the useliil, 
 the othdr for the pleasant. Both qualities are found in thee 
 good man ; bat he will not be the friend of a superior, unlessa 
 he be surpassed (by that superior) in virtue also. In all thet 
 kinds of friendship now specified there is equality (VI.)- Theria 
 are friendships where one party is superior, as father and son-s 
 older and younger, husband and wife, governor and governed. , 
 In such cases there should be a proportionably greater lovei 
 on the part of the inferior. When the love on each side is- 
 proportioned to the merit of the party beloved, then we have 
 a certain species of equality, which is an ingredient in friend- 
 ship. But equality in matters of friendship, is not quite the 
 same as equality in matters of justice. In matters of 
 justice, equality proportioned to merit stands first — equality 
 between man and man (no account being taken of comparative 
 merit) stands only second. In friendship, the case is the re- 
 verse ; the perflection of friendship is equal love between the 
 friends towards each other ; to have greater love' on one side, 
 by reason of and proportioned to superior merit, is friendship 
 only of the second grade. This will be evident if we reflect 
 that extreme inequality renders friendship impossible — as be- 
 tween private men and kings or gods. Hence the friend can 
 scarcely wish for his friend the maximum of good, to become 
 a god ; such extreme elevation would terminate the friend- 
 ship. Nor will he wish his friend to possess all the good ; 
 for every one wishes most for good to self (VII.). The essence 
 of friendship is to love rather than to be loved, as seen in 
 mothers ; but the generality of persons desire rather to be 
 loved, which is akin to being honoured (although honour is 
 partly sought as a sign of future favours). By means of love, 
 as already said, unequal friendships may be equalized. Friend- 
 ship with the good, is based on equality and similarity, neither 
 party ever desiring base services. Friendships for the useful 
 are based on the contrariety of fulness and defect, as poor and 
 rich, ignorant and knowing (VIII.). Friendship is an inci- 
 dent of political society ; men associating together for common
 
 90 ETHICAL SYSTEMS —ARISTOTLE. 
 
 ends, "become friends. Political jnstice becomes more binding 
 when men are related bj friendship. The state itself is a com- 
 munity for the sake of advantage ; the expedient to all is the 
 just. In the large society of the state, there are many inferior 
 societies for buisiiiess, and for pleasure : friendship starts up 
 in all (IX.). There are three forms of Civil Government, 
 with a characteristic declension or perversion of each : — 
 Mon irchy passing into Despotism; Aristocracy into OH- 
 ' garcLiy ; Tiaioci'acy (based on wealth) into democracy ; parent 
 1 and child typifies the first ; husband and wife the second ; 
 brothers the third (X.). The monarch ial or paternal type 
 ^aas superiority on one side, and demands honour as well as 
 -^Sve on the other. In aristocracy, the relation is one of merit, 
 .\nd the greater love is given to the better. In timocracy, and 
 ^among brothers, there is equality ; and hence the most fre- 
 quent friendships. There is no friendship towards a slave, as 
 ^a slave, for, as such he is a mere animate tool (XI.). In the 
 ■^ relations of the family, friendship varies with the diiferenfc 
 situations. Parents love their children as a part of themselves, 
 and from the first; children grow to love their parents. Brothers 
 are affected by their community of origin, as well as by common 
 education and habits of intimacy. Husband and wife come 
 together by a natural bond, and as mutual helps ; their friend- 
 ship contains the useful and the pleasant, and, with virtue, the 
 good. Their offspring strengthens the bond (XII.). The 
 friendships that give rise to complaints are confined to the 
 Useful. Such friendships involve a legal element of strict and 
 measured reciprocity [mere trade], and a moral or unwritten 
 understanding, which is properly friendship. Each party is 
 apt to give less and expect more than he gets ; and the rule 
 must be for each to reciprocate liberally and fully, in such 
 manner and kind as they are able (XIII.). In unequal friend- 
 ships, between a superior and inferior, the inferior has the 
 greater share of material assistance, the superior should re- 
 ceive the greater honour (XIY.). 
 
 Book Ninth proceeds without any real break. It may not 
 be always easy to fix the return to be made for services re- 
 ceived. Protagoras, the sophist, left it to his pupils to settle the 
 amount of fee that he should receive. When there is no agree- 
 m.ent, we must render what is in our power, for example, to the 
 gods and to our parents (I.). Cases may arise of conflicting 
 obligation ; as, shall W3 prefer a friend to a deserving man ? 
 shall a person robbed reciprocate to robbers ? and others. [We 
 have here the germs of Casuistry.] (II.) As to the termina-
 
 VARIETIES OF FRIENDSHIP. 91 
 
 tion of Friendship ; in the oase of the useful and the pleasant, 
 the connexion ceases with the motives. In the case of the good, 
 it may happen that one party counterfeits tlie good, but is really 
 acting the useful or the pleasant; or one party may turn out 
 wicked, and the only question is, how far hopes of his improve- 
 ment shall be entertained. Again, one may continue the same, 
 while the other makes larg^e advances in mental training^: 
 how far shall present disparity operate against old associalions ? 
 (III.). There is a sort of illustrative parallelism between the 
 feelings and acts of friendship, and the feelings and acts of 
 self-love, or of a good man to himself. The virtuous man 
 wishes what is good for himself, especially for his highest part 
 — the intellect or thinking part ; he desires to pass his life in 
 the company of his own thoughts ; he sympathizes with his 
 own sorrows. On the other hand, the bad choose the pleasant, 
 although it be hurtful; they fly from themselves; their own 
 thoughts are unpleasant companions ; they are full of repent- 
 ance (IV.). Good-will is different from friendship ; it is a 
 sudden impulse of feeling towards some distinguished or like- 
 able quality, as in an antagonist. It has not the test of longing 
 in absence. It may be the prelude to friendship (Y.). 
 Unanimity, or agreement of opinion, is a part of fiieudship. 
 Not as regards mere speculation, as about the heavenly bodies; 
 but in practical matters, where interests are at stake, sach as 
 the politics of the day. This unanimity cannot occur in the 
 bad, from their selfish and grasping disposition (VI.). 
 
 The position is next examined — that the love felt by 
 benefactors is stronger than the love felt by those bene- 
 fitted. It is not a sufficient explanation to say, the bene- 
 factor is a creditor, who wishes the prosperity of his debtor. 
 Benefactors are like workmen, who love their own work, 
 and the exercise of their own powers. They also have the 
 feeling of nobleness on their side ; while the recipient has 
 the less lovable idea of profit. Finally, activity is more 
 akin to love than recipiency (VII.). Another question raised 
 for discussion is — ' Ought a man to love himself most, 
 or another ? ' On the one hand, selfishness is usually con- 
 demned as the feature of bad men ; on the other hand, the 
 feelings towards self are made the standard of the feelings 
 towards friends. The solution is given thus. There is a 
 lower self (predominant with most men) that gratifies the 
 appetites, seeking wealth, power, &c. With the select few, 
 there is a higher self that seeks the honourable, the noble, in- 
 tellectual excellence, at any cost of pleasure, wealth, honour,
 
 92 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— ARISTOTLE. 
 
 &c. These noble-minded men procure for themselves the 
 greater good by sacrificing the less : and their self-sacrifice is 
 thus a mode of self. It is the duty of the good man to love 
 himself: for his noble life is profitable, both to himself, and 
 to others ; but the bad man ought not to love himself. 
 [Self-sacrifice, formerly brought under Courage, is here 
 depicted from another point of view] (YIII.). 
 
 By way of bringing out the advantages of friendship, it is 
 next asked. Does the happy man need friends ? To this, it is 
 answered, (1) That happiness, being the sum of all human good, 
 must suppose the possession of the greatest of external goods, 
 which is friendship. (2) The happy man will require friends 
 as recipients of liis overflow of kindness. (3) He cannot be 
 expected either to be solitary, or to live with strangers. (4) 
 The highest play of existence is to see the acts of another in 
 harmony with self. (5) Sympathy supports and prolongs the 
 glow of one's own emotions. (G) A friend confirms us in the 
 practice of virtue. (7) The sense of existence in ourselves is 
 enlarged by the consciousness of another's existence (IX.). 
 The number of friends is again considered, and the same 
 barriers stated — the impossibility of sharing among many the 
 highest kind of affection, or of keeping up close and har- 
 monious intimacy. The most renowned friendships are be- 
 tween pairs (X.). As to whether friends are most needed in 
 adversity or in prosperity — in the one, friendship is more ne- 
 cessary, in the other more glorious (XI.). The essential 
 support and manifestation of friendship is Intercourse. What- 
 ever people's tastes are, they desire the society of others in 
 exercising them (XII.). 
 
 Book Tenth discusses Pleasure, and lays down as the 
 highest and perfect pleasure, the exercise of the Intellect in 
 Philosophy. 
 
 Pleasure is deserving of consideration, from its close inti- 
 macy with the constitution of our race ; on which account, in 
 our training of youth, we steer them by pleasure and pain ; 
 and it is of the first importance that they should feel pleasure 
 in what they ought, and displeasure in what they ought, as 
 the groundwork (or princijnum) of good ethical dispositions. 
 Such a topic can never be left unnoticed, especially when we 
 look at the great difference of opinion thereupon. Some 
 affirm pleasure to be the chief good [Eudoxus]. Others call it 
 altogether vile and worthless [party of SpeusippusJ. Of these 
 last, some perhaps really think so ; but the rest are actuated 
 by the necessity of checking men's too great proneness to it>
 
 THEORIES OF PLEASURE. 93 
 
 and disparage it on that account. This policy Aristotle 
 strongly censures, and contends for the superior efficacy of 
 truth ([.). 
 
 The arguments urged by Eudoxus as proving pleasure 
 to be the chief good, are, (1) That all beings seek pleasure; 
 (2) and avoid its opposite, pain; (3) that they seek pleasure 
 as an end-in-itself, and not as a means to any farther end. ; 
 (1) that pleasure, added to any other good, such as jus- 
 tice or temperance, increases the amount of good ; which 
 could not be the case, unless pleasure were itself good. Yet 
 this last argument (Aristotle urges) proves pleasure to be a 
 good, but not to be the Good ; indeed, Plato urged the same 
 argument, to show that pleasure could not be The Good : since 
 The Good (the Chief Good) must be something that does not 
 admit of being enhanced or made more good. The objection of 
 Speusippus, — that irrational creatures are not to be admitted 
 as witnesses, — Aristotle disallows, seeing that rational and 
 irrational agree on the point ; and the thing that seems to all, 
 must be true. Another objection. That the opposite of pain 
 is not pleasure, but a neutral state — is set aside as contradicted 
 by the fact of human desire and aversion, the two opposite 
 states of feeling (II.). 
 
 The arguments of the Platonists, to prove that pleasure 
 is not good, are next examined. (1) Pleasure, they say, is 
 not a quality ; but neither (replies Aristotle) are the exercises 
 or actual manifestations of virtue or happiness. (2) Plea- 
 sure is not definite, but unlimited, or admitting of degrees, 
 while The Good is a something definite, and does not admit 
 of degrees. But if these reasoners speak about the pure plea- 
 sures, they might take objection on similar grounds against 
 virtue and justice also ; for these too admit of degrees, and 
 one man is more virtuous than another. And if they speak 
 of the mixed pleasures (alloyed with pain), their reasoning 
 will not apply to the unmixed. Good health is acknowledged 
 to be a good, and to be a definite something ; yet then; are 
 nevertheless some men more healthy, some less. (3) The 
 Good is perfect or complete ; but objectors urge that no motion 
 or generation is complete, and pleasure is in one of these two 
 categories. This last assertion Aristotle denies. Pleasure is 
 not a motion ; for the attribute of velocity, greater or less, 
 which is essential to all motion, does not attach to pleasure 
 A man may be quick in becoming pleased, or in becoming 
 angry ; but in the act of being pleased or angry, he can neither 
 be quick nor slow. Nor is it true that pleasure is a genera-
 
 94 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ARISTOTLE. 
 
 fcion. In all generation, there is something assignable out of 
 which generation takes place (not any one thing ont of any- 
 other), and into which it reverts by destruction. If pleasure 
 be a generation, pain must be the destruction of what is 
 generated ; but this is not correct, for pain does not re-establish 
 the state antecedent to the pleasure. Accordingly, it is not 
 true that pleasure is a generation. Some talk of pain as a 
 want of something required by nature, and of pleasure as a 
 filling up of that want. But these are corporeal, not mental 
 facts, and are applicable only to eating and drinking; not 
 applicable to many other pleasures, such, as those of sight, 
 hearing, or learning. (4) There are some disgraceful plea- 
 sures. Aristotle replies that these are not absolutely and pro- 
 perly pleasures, but only to the depraved man ; just as things 
 are not yellow, which appear so to men in a jaundice. Pleasures 
 differ from each other in species : there are good pleasures, 
 i.e., those arising from good sources ; and bad pleasures, 
 i.e., from bad sources. The pleasure j:)er se is always desir- 
 able ; but not when it comes from objectionable acts. The 
 pleasures of each man will vary according to his character ; 
 none but a musical man can enjoy the pleasures of music. 
 No one would consent to remain a child for life, even though 
 he were to have his fill of childish pleasure. 
 
 Aristotle sums up the result thus. Pleasure is not The 
 Good. Not every mode of pleasure is to be chosen. Some 
 pleasures, distinguished from the rest specifically or according 
 to their sources, are to be chosen per se (HI.)- 
 
 He then attempts to define pleasure. It is something per- 
 fect and complete in itself, at each successive moment of time ; 
 hence it is not motion, which is at every moment incomplete. 
 Pleasure is like the act of vision, or a point, or a monad, 
 always complete in itself. It accompanies every variety of 
 sensible perception, intelligence, and theorizing contemplation. 
 In each of these faculties, the act is more perfect, according 
 as the subjective element is most perfect, and the object most 
 grand and dignified. When the act is most perfect, the plea- 
 sure accompanying it is also the most perfect ; and this plea- 
 snre puts the finishing consummation to the act. The pleasure 
 is not a pre-existing acquirement now brought into exercise, 
 but an accessory end implicated with the act, like the fresh 
 look which belongs to the organism just matured. It is a sure 
 adjunct, so long as subject and object are in good condition. 
 But continuity of pleasure, as well as of the other exercises, 
 is impossible. Life is itself an exercise much diversified, and
 
 PLEASURES OF THE INTELLECT THE REAL PLEASURES. 95 
 
 each man follows the diversity that is suitable to his own 
 inclination — music, study, &c Ej,cb has its accessory and 
 consummating mode of pleasure ; and to say that all men 
 desire pleasure, is the same as saying that all men desire life. 
 It is no real question to ask— Do we choose life for the sake 
 of pleasure, or pleasure for the sake of life ? The truth is, 
 that the two are implicated and inseparable (IV.). 
 
 As our acts or exercises differ from each other specifically, 
 so also the pleasures that are accessory to them differ speci- 
 fically. Exercises intellectual differ from exercises perceptive, 
 and under each head there are varieties differing from each 
 other. The pleasures accessory and consummating to each, 
 are diversified accordingly. Each pleasure contributes to 
 invigorate and intensify the particular exercise that it is at- 
 tached to ; the geometer who studies his science with pleasure 
 becomes more acute and successful in prosecuting it. On the 
 other hand, the pleasures attached to one exercise impede the 
 mind in regard to other exercises ; thus men fond of the flute 
 cannot listen to a speaker with attention, if any one is playing 
 the flute near them. What we delight in doing, we are more 
 likely to do well ; what we feel pain in doing, we are not 
 likely to do well. And thus each variety of exercise is alike 
 impeded by the pains attached to itself, and by the pleasures 
 attached to other varieties. 
 
 Among these exercises or acts, some are morally good, 
 others morally bad ; the desires of the good are also praise- 
 worthy, the desires of the bad are blameable ; but if so, much 
 more are the pleasures attached to the good exercises, good 
 pleasures — and the pleasures attached to the bad exercises, 
 bad pleasures. For the pleasures attached to an exercise are 
 more intimately identified with that exercise than the desire 
 of it can be. The pleasure of the exercise, and the exercise 
 itself, are indeed so closely identified one with the other, that to 
 many they appear the same. Sight, hearing, and smell, differ 
 in purity from touch and taste ; and the pleasures attached to 
 each differ in like manner. The pleasures of intellect difiTer 
 from those of sense, as these two exercises differ from one 
 another. Every animal has its own peculiar pleasures, as it 
 has also its own peculiar manifestation and exercises. Among 
 the human race, the same things give pleasure to one indi- 
 vidual and pain to another. The things that appear sweet 
 to the strong and healthy man, do not appear sweet to one 
 suffering from fever, or weakly. Now. amidst this discrep- 
 ancy, what appears to the virtuous and intelligent man, really
 
 96 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — AEISTOTLE. 
 
 is. His pleasures are the true and real pleasures. Excellence, 
 and the good man qudtenus good, are to be taken as the 
 standard. If what he abhors appears pleasurable to some 
 persons, we must not be sur^orised, since there are many de- 
 pravations of individuals, in one way or another ; but these 
 things are not pleasures really, they are only pleasures to 
 these depraved mortals (V.). 
 
 So far the theory of Pleasure. Aristotle now goes back 
 to his starting point — the nature of the Good, and Happiness. 
 He re-states his positions : That Happiness is an exercise or 
 actuality (eVp/>7e/«), and not an acquirement or state (e'^>) , 
 Tliat it belongs to such exercises as are worthy of choice 
 for their own sake, and not to such as are worthy of choice 
 for the sake of something else ; That it is perfect and self- 
 sufficing, seeking nothing beyond itself, and leaving no 
 wants unsupplied. Hence he had concluded that it consisted 
 in acting according to virtue ; for the honourable and good 
 are chosen for their own sake. But amusements are also 
 sought for their own sake ; Are these also to be called happi- 
 ness ? Ko. It is true that they are much pursued by 
 those whom the vulgar envy — men of wealth and despots — 
 who patronize and reward the practitioners of amusement. 
 But this proves nothing, for we cannot adopt the choice of 
 these despots, who have little virtue or intellect, and have 
 never known the taste of refined and liberal pleasure. Child- 
 ren and mature men, bad men and virtuous, have each their 
 different pleasures ; the virtuous and intelligent man finds a lii'a 
 of excellence and the pleasures attached thereunto most worthy 
 of his choice, and such a man (Aristotle has declared more 
 than once) is our standard. It would indeed be childish to 
 treat amusements as the main end of life ; they are the relax- 
 ation of the virtuous man, who derives from them fresh vigour 
 for the prosecution of the serious business of life, which he 
 cannot prosecute continuously. The serious exercises of life 
 are better than the comic, because they proceed from the 
 better part of man. The slave may enjoy bodily pleasures to 
 the full, but a slave is not called happy (VI ). 
 
 We have thus shown that Happiness consists in exercise 
 or actual living according to excellence; naturall}'^, therefore, 
 according to the highest excellence, or the excellence of the 
 best part of man. This best part is the Intellect (Nor<f), our 
 most divine and commanding element; in its exercise, which 
 is theoretical or speculative, having respect to matters honour- 
 able, divine, and most worthy of study. Such philosophical
 
 THE LIFE OF PHILOSOPHY. 97 
 
 exercise, besides being the highest function of our nature, is 
 at the same time more susceptible than any mode of active 
 effort, of being prosecuted for a long continuance. It affords 
 the purest and most lasting pleasure ; it approaches most nearly 
 to being self-sufficing, since it postulates little more than the 
 necessaries of life, and is even independent of society, though 
 better with society. Perfect happiness would thus be the 
 exercise of the theorizing intellect, continued through a full 
 period of life. But this is more than we can expect. Still, 
 we ought to make every effort to live according to this best 
 element of our nature; for, though smrJl in bulk, it stands 
 exalted above the rest in power aud dignity, and, being the 
 sovereign element in man, is really The Man himself (VIL). 
 
 Next, yet only second, come the other branches of excel- 
 lence : the active social life of a good citizen. Exercises accord- 
 ing to this branch of virtue are the natural business of man, for 
 it is bound up with our whole nature, including body as well as 
 mind, our appetites, and our passions, whereas the happiness 
 of intellect is separate. Active social virtue postulates con- 
 ditions of society and external aids in considerable measure ; 
 but the life of intellect requires only the minimum of these, 
 and is even impeded by much of them. 
 
 That perfect happiness is to be found in the philosophical 
 life only, will appear farther when we recollect that the gods 
 are blest and happy in the highest degree, and that this is 
 the only mode of life suitable to them. With the gods there 
 can be no scope for active social virtues ; for in what way can 
 they be just, courageous, or temperate ? Neither virtuous 
 practice nor constructive art can be predicated of the gods ; 
 what then remains, since we all assume them to live, and 
 therefore to be in act or exercise of some kind; for no one 
 believes them to live in a state of sleep, like Endymion, 
 There remains nothing except philosophical contemplation. 
 This, then, must be the life of the gods, the most blest of all; 
 and that mode of human life which approaches nearest to it 
 will be the happiest. No other animal can take part in this, 
 and therefore none can be happy. In so far as the gods pay 
 attention to human affairs, they are likely to take pleasure 
 in the philosopher, who is most allied to themselves. A 
 moderate supply of good health, food, and social position, 
 must undoubtedly be ensured to tlie philosopher ; for, without 
 these, human nature will not suffice for the business of con- 
 templation. But he will demand nothing more than a moderate 
 supply, and when thus equipped, he will approach nearer to 
 5
 
 98 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— ARISTOTLE. 
 
 happiness than any one else. Aristotle declares this confi- 
 dently, citing Solon, Anaxagoras, and other sages, as having 
 said much the same before him (VIII.). 
 
 In the concluding chapter, Aristotle gives the transition 
 from Ethics to Politics. Treatises on virtue may inspire a few 
 liberal minds ; but, for the mass of men, laws, institutions, 
 and education are necessary. The young ought to be trained, 
 not merely by paternal guidance directing in the earliest 
 years their love and hatred, but also by a scheme of public, 
 education, prescribed and enforced by authority throughout 
 the city. Right cond ivifc will thus be rendered easier by 
 habit ; but still, throughout life, the mature citizen must con- 
 tinue under the discipline of law, v/hich has force adequate to 
 correction, and, being imperson il, does not excite aversion and 
 hatred. Hence the need for a system of good public training. 
 Nowhere is this now established and enforced ; hardly any- 
 where, except in Sparta, is it even attempted. Amid such 
 public neglect, it becomes the duty of an individual to con- 
 tribute what he can to the improvement of those that he is 
 concerned in, and for that purpose to acquire the capacities 
 qualifying him for becoming a lawgiver. Private admonition 
 will compensate to a certain extent for the neglect of public 
 interference, and in particular cases may be even more dis- 
 criminating. But how are such capacities to be acquired ? 
 Not from the Sophists, whose method is too empirical ; nor 
 from practical politicians, for they seem to have no power of 
 imparting their skill. Perhaps it would be useful to make a 
 collection of existing laws and constitutions. Aristotle con- 
 cludes with sketching the plan of his own work on Politics. 
 
 The Aristotelian doctrines are generally summed up in 
 such points as these : — The theory of Good ; Pleasure ; the 
 theory of Virtue ; the doctrine of the Will, distinguishing 
 voluntary from involuntary; Virtue a Habit; the doctrine 
 of the Mean ; the distinction between the Moral Virtues and 
 the Intellectual Virtues ; Justice, distributive and commuta- 
 tive ; Friendship ; the Contemplative Lite. 
 
 The following are the indicatioas of his views, according 
 to the six leading subjects of Ethics. 
 
 ■ I. and II. — It is characteristic of Aristotle (as is fully 
 stated in Appendix B.) to make the judgment of the wisest 
 and most cultivated minds, the standard of appeal in moral 
 questions. He lays dovvn certain general principles, such as 
 the doctrine of the Mean, but in the application of these
 
 THE STOICAL SUCCESSION. 99 
 
 (whicli is everything), he trusts to the most experienced and 
 skilled advisers that the comrannity can furnish. 
 
 HI. — On the theory of Happiness, or the Summum Bonura, 
 it is needless to repeat the abstract of the tenth book. 
 
 IV. — In laying down the Moral Code, he Avas encumbered 
 with the too wide view of Virtue ; but made an advance in 
 distinguishing virtue proper from excellence in general. 
 
 V. — He made Society tutelary to the individual in an 
 excessive degree. He had no clear conception of the province 
 of authority or law ; and did not separate the morality of 
 oLlifration from the morality of reward and nobleness. 
 
 VI. — His exclusion of Theology from morality was total. 
 
 THE STOICS. 
 
 The Stoics were one of the four sects of philosophy, recog- 
 nized and conspicuous at Athens during the three centuries 
 preceding the Christian era, and during the century or more 
 following. Among these four sects, the most marked anti- 
 thesis of ethical dogma was between the Stoics and the Epi- 
 cureans. The Stoical system dates from about 300 B.C. ; it 
 was derived from the system of the Cynics. 
 
 The founder of the system was Zeno, from Citium in 
 Cyprus (he lived from 340 — 260 B.C.), who derived his first 
 impulse from Krates the Cynic. He opened his school in a 
 building or porch, called the Sfoa Poecile ('Painted Portico') 
 at Athens, whence the origin of the name of the sect. Zeno 
 had for his disciple Cleanthes, from Assos in the Troad (300 
 ■ — 220 B.C.), whose Hymn to Jiqnter is the only fragment oi 
 any length that has come down to us from the early Stoics, 
 and is a remarkable production, setting forth the unity of God, 
 his omnipotence, and his moral government. Chrysippus, 
 jfrom Soli in Cilicia (290—207 B.c ), follow^ed Cleanthes, and, 
 jn his voluminous writings, both defended and modified the 
 Stoical creed. These three represent the first period of the 
 system. The second period (200 — 50 B.C.) embraces its 
 general promulgation, and its introduction to the Romans. 
 Chrysippus was succeeded by Zeno of Sidon, and Diogenes 
 of Babjdon ; then follow^ed Antipater of Tarsus, who taught 
 Pan^tius of Rhodes (d. 112 B.C.), who, again, taught Posidonius 
 of Apamea, in Syria. (Two philosophers are mentioned 
 from the native province of St. Paul, besides Chrysippus 
 — Athenodorus, from Cana in Cilicia ; and Archedemus, 
 from Tarsus, the apostle's birthplace. It is remarked by Sir 
 A. Grant, that almost all the first Stoics were of Asiatic birth;
 
 100 ETHICAL SYSTEMS- -THE STOICS. 
 
 and tlie system itself is undeniably more akin to the oriental 
 mind than to the Greek.) Posidonius was acquainted with 
 Marius and Pompey, and gave lessees to Cicero, but the moral 
 treatise of Cicero, De OJficiis, is derived from a work of Paneetius. 
 The third period of Stoicism is Roman. In this period, we have 
 Cato the Younger, who invited to his house the philosopher 
 Athenodorus ; and, under the Empire, the three Stoic philo- 
 sophers, whose writings have come down to us — Seneca (6 B.C. 
 — 65 A.D.), Epictetus (60 — 140 a.d.), who began life as a 
 «^]ave, and the Emperor Makcus Aurllius Antoninus (121 — 
 380 A.D.). Stoicism prevailed widely in the Roman world, 
 although not to the exclusion of Epicurean views. 
 
 The leading Stoical doctrines are given in certain phrases 
 or expressions, as ' Life according to Nature ' (altiiough this 
 phrase belongs also to the Epicureans), the ideal ' Wise Man,' 
 * Apathy,' or equanimity of mind (also an Epicurean ideal), 
 th»i power of the 'Will,' the worship of ' Duty,' the constant 
 ' Advance ' in virtue, &c. But perspicuity will be best gained 
 by considering the Moral system under four heads — the Theo- 
 logy; the Psychology or theory of mind; the theory of the 
 Good or human happiness ; and the scheme of Virtue or Duty. 
 
 ] . — The Theological doctrines of the Stoics comprehended 
 their system of the Universe, and of man's position in it. They 
 held that the Universe is governed by one good and wise God, 
 together with inferior or subordinate deities. God exercises 
 a mo^al government ; under it the good are happy, while mis- 
 fortupes happen to the wicked. According to Epictetus, God 
 is the rather of men ; Antoninus exults in the beautiful arrange- 
 ment of all things. The earlier Stoics, Zeno and Chrysippus, 
 entertained high reverence for the divination, prophecy, and 
 omens that were generally current in the ancient world. 
 They considered that these were the methods whereby the 
 gods were graciously pleased to make known beforehand 
 revelations of their foreordained purposes (Herein lay one 
 among the marked points of contrast between Stoics and 
 Epicureans.) They held this foreordination even to the length 
 of fatalism, and made the same replies, as have been given in 
 modern times, to the difficulty of reconciling it with the exis- 
 tence of evil, and with the apparent condition of the better and 
 the worse individuals among mankind. They offered explana- 
 tions such as the following : (1) God is the author of all things 
 except wickedness; (2) the very nature of good supposes its con- 
 trast evil, and the two are insepai-able, like light and dark, 
 (which may be called the argument from Relativity) ; (3) in the
 
 STOICA.L THEOLOGY. 101 
 
 enormons extent of the Universe, some things mnst be 
 neglected ; (4) when evil happens to the ^ood, it is not as a 
 punishment, but as connected with a different dispensation; 
 
 (5) parts of the world may be presided over by evil demons ; 
 
 (6) what we call evil may not be evil. 
 
 Like most other ancient schools, the Stoics held God to be 
 corporeal like man : — Body is the only substance ; nothing 
 incorporeal could act on what is corporeal ; the First Cause 
 of all, God or Zeus, is the piimeval fire, emanating from which 
 is the soul of man in the form of a warm ether. 
 
 It is for human beings to recognize the Universe as go- 
 verned by universal Law, and not only to raise their minds 
 to the comprehension of it, but to enter into the views of the 
 administering Zeus or Fate, who must regard all interests 
 equally ; we are to be, as it were, in harmony with him, to 
 merge self in universal Order, to think only of that and its 
 welfare. As two is greater than one, the interests of the 
 whole world are infinitely greater than the interests of any 
 single being, and no one should be satisfied with a regai^d to 
 anything less than the whole. By this elevation of view, we 
 are necessarily raised far above the consideration of the petty 
 events befalling ourselves. The grand effort of human reason 
 is thus to rise to the abstraction or totality of entire Nature ; 
 * no ethical subject,' says Chrysippus, 'could be rightly ap- 
 proached except from the pre-consideration of entire Nature, 
 and the ordering of the whole.' 
 
 As to Immortality, the Stoics precluded themselves, by hold- 
 ing the theory of the absorption of the individual soul at death 
 into the divine essence ; but, on the other hand, their doctrine 
 of advance and aspiration is what has in all times been the main 
 natural argument for the immortality of the soul. For the 
 most part, they kept themselves undecided as to this doctrine, 
 giving it as an alternative, reasoning as to our conduct on 
 either supposition, and submitting to the pleasure of God in 
 this as in all other things. 
 
 In arguing for the existence of Divine power and govern- 
 ment, they employed what has been called the argument from 
 Design, which is as old as Sokrates. ]\Ian is conscious that 
 he is in himself an intellectnal or spiritual power, from which, 
 by analog}^, he is led to believe that a greater power pervades 
 the universe, as intellect pervades the human system. 
 
 II. — In the Psychology of the Stoics, two questions are of 
 interest, their theory of Pleasure and Pain, and their views 
 "apon the Freedom of the Will.
 
 102 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — THE STOICS. 
 
 1. The fheorij of Fleasiire and Pam. The Stoics agreed 
 witli the Peripatetics (anterior to Epicurus, not specially 
 against hhn) tbat the first principle of nature is (not pleasure 
 or relief from pain, but) self-preservation or self-love; in other 
 words, the natural appetite or tendency of all creatures is, to 
 preserve their existing condition with its inherent capacities, 
 and to keep clear of destruction or disablement. This appetite 
 (they said) manifests itself in little children before any plea- 
 sure or pain is felt, and is moreover a fundamental postu- 
 late, pre-supposed in all desires of particular pleasures, as well 
 as in all aversions to particular pains. We begin by loving 
 our own vitality; and we come, by association, to love 
 what promotes or strengthens our vitality ; we hate destruction 
 or disablement, and come (by secondary association) to hate 
 whatever produces that effect.* 
 
 The doctrine here laid down associated, and brought under 
 one view, what was common to man, not merely with the 
 animal, but also with the vegetable world ; a plant was de- 
 clared to have an impulse or tendency to maintain itself, 
 even without feeling pain or pleasure. Aristotle (in the tenth 
 Book of the Ethics) says, that he will not determine whether 
 we love life for the sake of pleasure, or pleasure for tho 
 sake of life ; for he affirms the two to be essentially yoked 
 together and inseparable ; pleasure is the consummation of 
 our vital manifestations. The Peripatetics, after him, put 
 pleasure down to a lower level, as derivative and accidental ; 
 the Stoics went farther in the same direction — possibly from, 
 antithesis against the growing school of Epicurus. 
 
 The primary officium (in a larger sense than our word 
 Duty) of man is (they said) to keep himself in the state of 
 nature ; the second or derivative officium is to keep to such 
 things as are according to nature, and to avert those that are 
 contrary to nature; our gradually increasing experience enabled 
 us to discriminate the two. The youth learns, as he grows 
 up, to value bodily accomplishments, mental cognitions and 
 judgments, good conduct towards those around him, — as power- 
 ful aids towards keeping up the state of nature. When his 
 experience is so far enlarged as to make him aware of the 
 order and harmony of nature and human society, and to 
 impress upon him the comprehension of this great ideal, his 
 emotions as well as his reason become absorbed by it. He 
 
 * There is some anilogy bptwef n the ahove d( ctrine and the great law 
 of Self-conservation, as expouiidud iu this volume (p 75).
 
 STOICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 103 
 
 recognizes this as the only true Bonum or Honestnm, to which 
 all other desirable things are referable, — as the only thing 
 desirable for itself and in its own nature. He drops or dis- 
 misses all those prima natures that he had begun by desiring. 
 He no longer considers any of them as worthy of being desired 
 in itself, or for its own sake. 
 
 While therefore (according to Peripatetics as well as 
 Stoics) the love of self and of preserving one's own vitality 
 and activity, is the primary element, intuitive and connate, 
 to which all rational preference (officinm) was at first referred, 
 — they thought it not the less true, that in process of time, by 
 experience, association, and reflection, there grows up in the 
 mind a grand acquired sentiment or notion, a new and later 
 light, which extinguishes and puts out of sight the early 
 beginning. It was important to distinguish the feeble and 
 obscure elements from the powerful and brilliant aftergrowth ; 
 which indeed was fully realized only in chosen minds, and in 
 them, hardly before old age. This idea, when once formed in 
 the mind, was The Good — the only thing worthy of desire for 
 its own sake. The Stoics called it the only Good, being suffi- 
 cient in itself for happiness ; other things being not good, nor 
 necessary to happiness, but simply preferable or advantageous 
 when they could be had : the Peripatetics recognized it as the 
 first and greatest good, but said also that it was not sufficient 
 in itself; there were two other inferior varieties of good, of 
 which something must be had as complementary (what the 
 Stoics called pruBposita or sumenda). Thus the Stoics said, 
 about the origin of the Idea of Bonum or Honestum, much 
 the same as what Aristotle says about ethical virtue. It is not 
 implanted in us by nature ; but we have at birth certain initial 
 tendencies and capacities, which, if aided by association and 
 training, enable us (and that not in all cases) to acquire it. 
 
 2. The Freedom of the Will. A distinction was taken by 
 Epictetus and other Stoics between things in our power and 
 things not in our power. The things in our power are our 
 opinions and notions about objects, and all our affections, de- 
 sires, and aversions ; the things not in our power are our 
 bodies, wealth, honour, rank, authorit}^ &c., and their oppo- 
 sites. The practical application is this : wealth and high rank 
 may not be in our power, but we have the power to form an 
 idea of these — namely, that they are unimportant, whence 
 the want of them will not grieve us. A still more pointed 
 application is to death, whose force is entirely in the idea. 
 
 With this distinction between things in our power and
 
 104 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — THE STOICS. 
 
 things not in our power, we may connect the arguments 
 between the Stoics and their opponents as to what is 
 now called the Freedom of the Will. But we must first 
 begin by distinguishing the two questions. By things in 
 our j>ower, the Stoics meant, things that we could do or 
 acquire, if we willed : by things not in our power, they 
 meant, things that we could not do or acquire if we 
 willed. In both cases, the volition was assumed as a fact : 
 the question, what determined it — or whether it was non- 
 determined, i.e. self-determining — was not raised in the above- 
 mentioned antithesis. But it was raised in other discussions 
 between the Stoic theorist Chrysippus, and various opponents. 
 These opponents denied that volition was determined by 
 motives, and cited the cases of equal conflicting motives 
 (what is known as the ass of Buridan) as proving that the 
 soul includes in itself, and exerts, a special supervenient 
 power of deciding action in one way or the other ; a power 
 not determined by any causal antecedent, but self- originating, 
 and belonging to the class of agency that Aristotle recog- 
 nizes under the denomination of automatic, spontaneous (or 
 essentially irregular and unpredictable). Chrysippus replied 
 by denying not only the reality of this supervenient force said 
 to be inherent in the soul, but also the reality of all that 
 Aristotle called automatic or spontaneous agency generally. 
 Chrysippus said that every movement was determined by 
 antecedent motives ; that in cases of equal conflict, the 
 exact equality did not long continue, because some new but 
 slight motive slipped in unperceived and turned the scale on 
 one side or the other. (See Plutarch De Stoicorum Repug- 
 nantiis, c. 23, p. 1045.) Here, we see, the question now 
 known as the Freedom of the Will is discussed : and 
 Chrysippus declares against it, affirming that volition is 
 always determined by motives. 
 
 But we also see that, while declaring this opinion, 
 Chrysippus does not employ the terms Necessity or Freedom 
 of the Will : neither did his opponents, so far as we can see : 
 they had a different and less misleading phrase. By Freedom, 
 Chrysippus and the Stoics meant the freedom of doing what 
 a man willed, if he willed it. A man is free, as to the 
 thing that is in his power, when he wills it; he is not 
 free, as to what is not in his power, under the same sup- 
 position. The Stoics laid great stress on this distinction. 
 They pointed out how much it is really in a man's power 
 to transform or discipline his own mind: in the way of
 
 FREEDOM OF THE WILL. 105 
 
 controlling or suppressing some emotions, generating or en- 
 couraging others, forming new intellectual associations, &c., 
 how much a man could do in these ways, if he willed it, and 
 if he went throui^-h the lessons, habits of conduct, meditations, 
 suitable to produce such an effect. The Stoics strove to 
 create in a man's mind the volitions appropriate for such 
 mental discipline, by depicting the beneticial conseque.ices 
 resulting from it, and the misfortune and shame inevitable, if 
 the mind were not so disciplined. Their purpose was to 
 strengthen the governing reason of his mind, and to enthrone 
 it as a fixed habit and character, which would control by 
 counter suggestions the impulse arising at each special moment 
 — particularly all disturbing terrors or allurements. This, in. 
 their view, is a free mind ; not one wherein volition is 
 independent of all motive, but one wherein the susceptibility 
 to different motives is tempered by an ascendant reason, so 
 as to g'ive predominance to the better motive against the 
 worse. One of the strongest motives that they endeavoured 
 to enforce, was the prudence and dignity of bringing our 
 volitions into harmony with the schemes of Providence : 
 which (they said) were always arranged with a view to the 
 happiness of the kosmos on the whole. The bad man, whose 
 volitions conflict with these schemes, is always baulked of 
 his expectations, and brought at last against his will to see 
 things carried by an overruling force, with aggravated pain 
 and hum.iliation to hiiuself: while the good man, who re- 
 signs himself to them from the first, always escapes with 
 less pain, and often without any at all. Ducunt volentem 
 fata, nolentem trahunt. 
 
 We have thus seen that in regard to the doctrine called in 
 modern times the Freedom of the Will (i.e., that volitions are 
 self- originating and unpredictable), the Stoic theorists not only 
 denied it, but framed all their Ethics upon the assumption of 
 the contrary. This same assumption of the contrary, indeed, 
 was made also by Sokrates, Plato, Aristotle, and Epicurus : in 
 short, by all the ethical teachers of antiquity. All of them 
 believed that volitions depended on causes : that under the 
 ordinary conditions of men's minds, the causes that voli- 
 tions generally depended upon are often misleading and some- 
 times ruinous : but that by proper stimulation from without 
 and meditation within, the rational causes of volition might 
 be made to overrule the impulsive. Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, 
 not less than the Stoics, wished to create new fixed habits 
 and a new type of character. They differed, indeed, -on the
 
 106 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— THE SIOICS. 
 
 question what the proper type of character was : but each of 
 
 them aimed at the same general end — a new type of character, 
 regulating the grades of susceptibility to different motives. 
 And the purpose of all and each of these moralists precludes 
 the theory of free-will — i.e., the theory that our volitions are 
 self- originating and unpredictable. 
 
 III. — We must consider next the Stoical theory of Happi- 
 ness, or rather of the Good, which with them was proclaimed 
 to be the sole, indispensable, and self-sufficing condition of 
 H'ppiness. They declared that Pleasure was no part of Good, 
 and Pain no part of Evil ; therefore, that even relief from pain 
 was not necessary to Good or Happiness. This, however, if 
 followed out consistently, would dispense with all morality and 
 all human endeavour. Accordingly, the Stoics were obliged 
 to let in some pleasures as an object of pursuit, and some 
 pains as an object of avoidance, though not under the title of 
 Good and Evil, but with the inferior name of Sumenda and 
 Eejicieiida.* Substantially, therefore, they held that pains 
 are an evil, but, by a proper discipline, may be triumphed 
 over. They disallowed the direct and ostensible pursuit of 
 pleasure as an end (the point of view of Epicurus), but allured 
 their followers partly by promising them the victory over pain, 
 and partly by certain enjoyments of an elevated cast that grew 
 out of their plan of life. 
 
 Pain of every kind, whether from the casualties of exis- 
 tence, or from the severity of the Stoical virtues, was to be 
 met by a discipline of endurance, a hardening process, which, 
 if persisted in, would succeed in reducing the mind to a state 
 of Apathy or indifference. A great many reflections were 
 suggested in aid of this education. The influence of exercise 
 and repetition in adapting the system to any new function, 
 was illustrated by the Olympian combatants, and by the Lace- 
 daemonian youth, who endured scourging without complaint. 
 Great stress was laid on the instability of pleasure, and the 
 constant liability to accidents ; whence we should always be 
 anticipating and adapting ourselves to the worst that could 
 happen, so as never to be in a state where anything could 
 ruffle the mind. It was pointed out how much might still be 
 
 • Aristotle and th ; Peripatetics held that there were tria genera bon- 
 orum : (1) Those oi the mind fniens sanaj, (2) those of the body, and (3) 
 external advanta^^es. The Stoics altered this theory by saying that only 
 the first of the three was bonum ; the others were merely prceposita or 
 sumenda. The opponents of the Stoics contended that this was an altera- 
 tion in words rather than in substance.
 
 THE STOICAL DISCIPLINE. 107 
 
 made of the worst circumstances — poverty, banish men t. public 
 odium, sickness, old age — and every consideration was ad- 
 vanced tliat could 'arm the obdurate breast with stubborn 
 patience, as with triple steel.' It has often been remarked 
 that such a discipline of endurance was peculiarly suited to 
 the unsettled condition of the world at the time, when any 
 man, in addition to the ordinary evils of life, might in a 
 moment be sent into exile, or sold into slavery. 
 
 Next to the discipline of endurance, we mast rank the 
 complacent sentiment of Pride, which the Stoic might justly 
 feel in his conquest of himself, and in his lofty independence 
 and superiority to the casualties of iife.^ The pride of the 
 Cynic, the Stoic's predecessor, was prominent and offensive, 
 showing itself in scuriility and contempt towards everybody 
 else ; the Stoical pride was a refinement upon this, but was 
 still a grateful sentiment of superiority, which helped to make 
 up for the surrender of indulgences. It was usual to bestow 
 the most extravagant laudation on the ' Wise Man,' and every 
 Stoic could take this home to the extent that he considered 
 himself as approaching that great ideal. 
 
 The last and most elevated form of Stoical happiness was 
 the satisfaction of contemplating the Universe and Grod. 
 Epictetus says, that we can accommodate ourselves cheerfully 
 to the providence that rules the world, if we possess two 
 things — the power of seeing all that happens in the proper 
 relation to its own purpose — and a grateful disposition. 
 The work of Antoninus is full of studies of Nature in the 
 devout spirit of ' passing from Nature up to Nature's God ;' 
 he is never weary of expressing his thorough contentment 
 with the course of natural events, and his sense of the beauties 
 and fitness of everything. Old age has its grace, and death 
 is the becoming termination. This high strain of exulting 
 contemplation reconciled him to that complete submission to 
 whatever might befall, which was the essential feature of the 
 * Life according to Nature,' as he conceived it. 
 
 lY. — The Stoical theory of Virtue is implicated in the 
 ideas of the Good, now described. 
 
 The fountain of all virtue is manifestly the life according 
 to nature ; as being the life of subordination of self to more 
 general interests — to family, country, mankind, the whole 
 
 • This also might truly be said of the Epicureans ; though with them 
 it is not so much pn'de, as a quiet self-satisfaction in escaping pains and 
 disappointments that they saw others enduring. See the beginning of 
 Lucretius' t>econd book, and the last epistle of Epicurus to Idomeneua.
 
 108 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — THE STOICS. 
 
 universe. If a man is prepared to consider himself absolutely 
 nothing in comparison with the universal interest, and to 
 regard it as the sole end of life, he has embraced an ideal of 
 virtue of the loftiest order. Accordingly, the Stoics were the 
 first to preach what is called ' Cosmopolitanism ;' for although, 
 in their reference to the good of the whole, they confounded 
 together sentient life and inanimate objects — rocks, plants, 
 &c., solicitude for which was misspent labour — yet they were 
 thus enabled to reach the conception of the universal kind- 
 ship of mankind, and could not but include in their regards 
 the brute creation. They said: 'There is no difference between 
 the Greeks and Barbarians ; the world is our city.' Seneca 
 urges kindness to slaves, for ' are they not men like ourselves, 
 breathing the same air, living and dying like ourselves ?' 
 
 The Epicureans declined, as much as possible, interference 
 in public affairs, but the Stoic philosophers urged men to the 
 duties of active citizenship. Chrysippus even said that the 
 life of philosophical contemplation (such as Aristotle preferred, 
 and accounted godlike) was to be placed on the same level 
 with the life of pleasure ; though Plutarch observes that 
 neither Chrysippus nor Zeno ever meddled personally with 
 any public duty ; both of them passed their lives in lec- 
 turing and writing. The truth is that both of them were 
 foreigners residing at Athens ; and at a time when Athens 
 was dependent on forrij_,n princes. Accordingly, neither Zeno 
 nor Chrysippus had any sphere of political action open to 
 them ; they were, in this respect, like Epictetus afterwards — 
 but in a position quite different from Seneca, the preceptor of 
 Nero, who might hope to influence the great imperial power 
 of Rome, and from Marcus Antoninus, who held that impe- 
 rial powder in his own hands. 
 
 Marcus Antoninus — not only a powerful Emperor, but 
 also the most gentle and amiable man of his day — talks of 
 active beneficence both as a duty and a satisfaction. But in 
 the creed of the Stoics generally, active Beneficence did not 
 occupy a prominent place. They adopted the four Cardinal 
 Virtues — Wisdom, or the Knowledge of Good and Evil ; 
 Justice ; Fortitude ; Temperance — as part of their jilan of the 
 virtuous life, the life according to Nature. Justice, as the social 
 virtue, was placed above all the rest. But the Stoics were 
 not strenuous in requiring more than Justice, for the benefit 
 of others beside the agent. They even reckoned compassion 
 for the sufferings of others as a weakness, analogous to euvy 
 for the good fortune of others.
 
 STOICAL VIEW OF BENEFICENCE. 109 
 
 The Stoic recognized the gods (or Universal Nature, 
 equivalent expressions in his creed) as managing the afiairs 
 of the world, with a view to producing as much happiness 
 as was attainable on the whole. Towards this end the gods 
 did not vvaijt any positive assistance from him ; but it 
 was his duty and his strongest interest, to resign himself 
 to their plans, and to abstain from all conduct tending 
 to frustrate them. Such refractory tendencies were per- 
 petually suggested to him by the unreasonable appetites, 
 emotions, fears, antipathies, &c., of daily life j all claiming 
 satisfaction at the expense of future mischief to himself and 
 others. To countervail these misleading forces, by means of 
 a fixed rational character built up through meditation and 
 philosophical teaching, was the grand purpose of the Stoic 
 ethical creed. The emotional or ar)petitive self was to be 
 starved or cui'bed, and retained only as an appendage to the 
 rational self ; an idea proclaimed before in general terms by 
 Plato, but carried out into a sj^stem by the Stoics, and to a 
 great extent even by the Epicureans. 
 
 The Stoic was taught to reflect how much that appears 
 to be desirable, terror-striking, provocative, &c., is not really 
 so, but is made to appear so by false and curable asso- 
 ciations. And whde he thus discouraged those self-regard- 
 ing emotions that placed him in hostility with others, he 
 learnt to respect the self of another man as well as his 
 own. Epictetus advises to deal mildly with a man that 
 hurts us either by word or deed; and advises it upon 
 the following very remarkable ground. ' Recollect that 
 in what he says or does, he follows his own sense of pro- 
 priety, not yours. He must do what appears to him right, 
 not w^hat appears to you ; if he judges wrongly, it is he that 
 is hurt, for he is the person deceived. Always repeat to your- 
 self, in such a case : The man has acted on his own opinion.' 
 
 The reason here given by Epictetus is an instance, memor- 
 able in ethical theory, of respect for individual dissenting con- 
 viction, even in an extreme case ; and it must be taken in 
 conjunction with his other doctrme, that damage thus done 
 to us unjustly is really little or no damage, except so far as we 
 ourselves give pungency to it by our irrational susceptibilities 
 and associations. We see that the Stoic submerges, as much 
 as he can, the pre-eminence of his own individual self, and 
 contemplates himself from the point of view of another, only 
 as one among many. But he does not erect the happiness of 
 others into a direct object of his own positive pursuit, beyond
 
 no ETHICAL SYSTEMS — THE STOICS. 
 
 the reciprocities of family, citizenship, and common humanity. 
 The Stoic theorists agreed with Epicurus in inculcating the 
 reciprocities of justice between all fellow -citizens ; and they 
 even went farther than he did, by extending the sphere of 
 such duties beyond the limits of city, so as to comprenend all 
 mankind. But as to the reciprociiies of individual friendship, 
 Epicurus went beyond the Stoics, by the amount of self-sacrifice 
 and devotion that he enjoined for the benefit of a friend. 
 
 There is also in the Stoical system a recognition of duties 
 to God, and of morality as based on piety. Not only are we 
 all brethren, but also the ' children of one Father.' 
 
 The extraordinary strain put upon human nature by the 
 full Stoic ideal of submerging self in the larger interests of 
 being, led to various compromises. The rigid following out 
 of the ideal issued in one of the paradoxes, namely, — That all 
 the actions of the wise man are equally perfect, and that, short 
 of the standard of perfection, all faults and vices are equal ; 
 that, for example, the man that killed a cock, without good 
 reason, was as guilty as he that killed his father. This has a 
 meaning only when we draw a line between spirituality and 
 morality, and treat the last as worthless in comparison of the 
 first. The later Stoics, however, in their exhortations to 
 special branches of duty, gave a positive value to practical 
 virtue, irrespective of the ideal. 
 
 The idea of Daty was of Stoical origin, fostered and de- 
 veloped by the Roman spirit and legislation. The early Stoics 
 had two different words, — one for the 'suitable' {ku0?jkov), or 
 incomplete propriety, admitting of degrees, and below the 
 point of rectitude, and another for the 'right' (KmofjOwjua), or 
 complete rectitude of action, which none could achieve except 
 the wise man. It is a significant circumstance that the 
 
 * suitable' is the lineal ancestor of our word ' duty' (through 
 the Latin ojjiciuia). 
 
 It was a great point with the Stoic to be conscious of 
 
 * advance ' or improvement.* By self-examination, he kept 
 
 * This was a later development of Stoicism : the earlier theorists laid 
 it down that there were no graduating marks below the level of wisdom ; 
 all shortcomings were on a par. Good was a point, Evil was a point ; 
 there were gradations in the prceposita or smnenda (none of which were 
 good), and in the rijecta or rcjicienda (none of which were evil), but there 
 was no more or less good. The idea of advance by steps towards virtue 
 or wisdom, was probably familiar to Sokrates, Plato, Aristotle, and 
 Epicurus ; the Stoic theories, on the other hand, tended to throw it out 
 of sight, though they insisted strenuously on the necessity of mental 
 training and meditation.
 
 SELF-CONTRADICTIONS OF STOICISM. Ill 
 
 himself constantly acquainted with his moral state, and it was 
 both his duty and his satisfaction to be approaching to the 
 ideal of the perfect man. 
 
 It is very illustrative of the unguarded points and contra- 
 dictions of Stoicism, that contentment and apathy were not to 
 permit grief even for the loss of friends. Seneca, on one occa- 
 sion, admits that he was betrayed by human weakness on this 
 point. On strict Stoical principles, we ought to treat the 
 afflictions and the death of otbers with the same frigid indiffer- 
 ence as our own ; for why should a man feel for a second 
 person more than he ouo^ht to feel for himself, as a mere unit 
 in the infinitude of the Universe ? This is the contradiction 
 inseparable from any system that begins by abjuring pleasure, 
 and relief or protection from pain, as the ends of life. Even 
 granting that we regard pleasure and relief from pain as 
 of no importance in our own case, yet if we apply the same 
 measure to others we are bereft of all motives to benevo- 
 lence ; and virtue, instead of being set on a loftier pinnacle, 
 is left without any foundation. 
 
 EPICURUS. [341-270 B.C.] 
 
 Epicurus was bom 341 B.C. in the island of Samos. At 
 the age of eighteen, he repaired to Athens, where he is sup- 
 posed to have enjoyed the teaching of Xenocrates or Theo- 
 phrastus. In 306 B.C., he opened a school in a garden in 
 Athens, whence his followers have sometimes been called the 
 * philosophers of the garden.' His life was simple, chaste, and 
 temperate. Of the 300 works he is said to have written, 
 nothing has come down to us except three letters, giving a 
 summary of his views for the use of his friends, and a number 
 of detached sayings, preserved by Diogenes Laertius and 
 others. Moreover, some fragments of his work on Nature have 
 been found at Herculaneura. The additional sources of our 
 knowledge of Epicurus are the works of his opponents, 
 Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, and of his follower Lucretius. Our 
 information from Epicurean writers respecting the doctrines 
 of their sect is much less copious than what we possess 
 from Stoic writers in regard to Stoic opinions. We have no 
 Epicurean writer on Philosophy except Lucretius ; whereas 
 respecting the Stoical creed under the Roman Empire, the im- 
 portant writings of Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Antoninus, 
 affurd most valuable evidence. 
 
 To Epicurus succeeded, in the leadership of his school,
 
 112 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— EPICURUS. 
 
 HermaclirfS, Polystratus, Dlonyslus, P)asilides, and others, ten 
 in nambef, down to the age of Augustus. Among Roman 
 Epicureans, Lucretius (95 — 51 B.C.) is the most important, 
 his poem (De Rerum Xatura), being the completest account 
 of the system that exists. Other distinguished followers were 
 Horace, Atticus, and Lucian. In modern times, Pierre 
 Gassendi (1592 — 1655) revived the doctrines of Epicurus, 
 and in 1647 published his ' Syntagma Philosophise Epicuri,' 
 and a Life of Epicurus. The reputation of Gassendi, in his 
 life time, rested chiefly upon his physical theories ; but his in- 
 fluence was much felt as a Christian upholder oif Epicureanism. 
 Gassendi was at one time in orders as a Roman Catholic, and 
 professor of theology and philosophy. He established an 
 Epicurean school in France, among the disciples of which 
 were, Moliere, Saint Evremond, Count de Grammont, the 
 Duke of Rochefoucalt, Fontenelle, and Voltaire. 
 
 The standard of Virtue and Vice is referred by Epicums 
 to pleasure and pain. Pain is the only evil. Pleasure is the 
 only good. Virtue is no end in itself, to be sought : Vice is 
 no end in itself, to be avoided. The motive for cultivating 
 Virtue and banishing Vice arises from the consequences of 
 each, as the means of multiplying pleasures and averting or 
 lessening pains. But to the attainment of this purpose, the 
 complete supremacy of Reason is indispensable ; in order that 
 we may take a right comparative measure of the varieties of 
 pleasure and pain, and pursue the course that promises the 
 least amount of suffering.* 
 
 In all ethical theories that make happiness the supreme 
 object of pursuit, the position of virtue depends entirely upon 
 the theory of what constitutes happiness. Now, Epicurus 
 (herein differing from the Stoics, as well as Aristotle), did 
 not recognize Happiness as anything but freedom from pain 
 
 * This theory (taken in its most general sense, and apart from differ- 
 ences in the estimation of particular pleasures and pains), had been pro- 
 claimed long before the time of Epicurus. It is one of the various 
 theories of Plato : for in his dialogue called Protagoras (though in other 
 dialogues he reasons differently) we find it explicitly set forth and 
 elaborately vindicated by his principal spokesman, Sokrates, against the 
 Sophist Protagoras. It was also held by Aristippus (companion of 
 Sokrates along with Plato) and by his followers after him, called the 
 Cyrenaics. Lasth', it was maintained by Eudoxus, one of the most 
 estimable philosophers contemporary with Aristotle. Epicurus was thus 
 in no way the originator of the theory : but he had his own way of con- 
 ceiving it — his own body of doctrine physical, cosmological, and theo- 
 logical, with which it was implicated — and his own comparative valuation 
 ol pleasures and pains.
 
 REGULATION OF THE DESIRES. 113 
 
 and enjoj^menfc of pleasure. It is essential, however, to 
 understand, how Epicurus conceived pleasure and pain, and 
 what is the Epicurean scale of pleasures and pains, graduated 
 as objects of reasonable desire or aversion ? It is a great 
 error to suppose that, in making pleasure the standard of 
 virtue, Epicurus had in view that elaborate and studied grati- 
 fication of the sensual appetites that we associate with the 
 word Epicurean. Epicurus declares — ' When we say that 
 pleasure is the end of life, we do not mean the pleasures of 
 the debauchee or the sensualist, as some from 'gnorance or 
 from malignity represent, but freedom of the body from pain, 
 and of the soul from anxiety. For it is not continuous 
 drinkings and revellings, nor the society of women, nor rare 
 viands, and other luxuries of the table, that constitute a 
 pleasant life, but sober contemplation, such as searches out the 
 grounds of choice and avoidance, and banishes those chimeras 
 that harass the mind. 
 
 Freedom from pain is thus made the primary element of 
 happiness : a one-sided view, repected in the doctrine of 
 Locke, that it is not the idea of future good, but the pre- 
 sent greatest uneasiness that most strongly affects tho will. 
 A neutral state of feeling is necessarily imperilled by a greedy 
 pursuit of pleasures ; hence the dictum, to be content with 
 little is a great good; because little is most easily obtained. 
 The regulation of the desires is therefore of high moment. 
 According to Epicurus, desires fall into three grades. Some 
 are ^mtural and necessary, such as desire of drink, food, or 
 life, and are easily gratified. But when the uneasiness of a 
 want is removed, the bodily pleasures admit of no farther 
 increase ; anything additional only varies the pleasure. Hence 
 the luxuries which go beyond the relief of our wants are 
 thoroughly superfluous ; and the desires arising from them 
 (forming the second gTade) though natural, are not necessary. 
 A tliird class of desires is neither natural nor necessary, but 
 begotten of vain opinion ; such as the thirst for civic honours, 
 or for power over others ; those desires are the most diflicult to 
 gratify, and even if gratified, entail upon us trouble, anxiety, 
 and peril. [This account of the desires, following up the 
 advice — If you wish to be rich, study not to increase your 
 goods, but to diminish your desires— is to a certain extent 
 wise and even indispensable ; yet not adapted to all tempera- 
 ments. To those that enjoy pleasure very highi}^, and are 
 not sensitive in an equal degree to pain, such a negative con- 
 ception of happiness would be imperfect.] Epicurus did not,
 
 114 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — EPICUKUS. 
 
 however, deprecate positive pleasure. If it could be reached 
 without paiti, and did not result in pain, it was a pure good ; 
 tind, even if it could not be had without pain, the question 
 "was still open, whether it might not be well worth the price. 
 But in estimating the worth of pleasure, the absence of any 
 accompanying pain should weigh heavil}'' in the balance. At 
 this point, the Epicurean theory connects itself most inti- 
 mately with the conditions of virtue ; for virtue is more con- 
 cerned with averting mischief and suffering, than with multi- 
 plying positive enjoyments. 
 
 Bodily feeling, in the Epicurean psychology, is prior in 
 order of time to the mental element ; the former was primor- 
 dial, while the latter was derivative from it by repeated pro- 
 cesses of memory and association. But though such was the 
 order of sequence and generation, yet when we compare the 
 two as constituents of happiness to the formed man, the 
 mental element much outweighed the bodily, both as pain and 
 as pleasure. Bodily pain or pleasure exists only in the pre- 
 sent; when not felt, it is nothing. Bat mental feelings involve 
 memory and hope — embrace the past as well as the future — 
 endure for a long time, and may be recalled or put out of 
 sight, to a great degree, at our discretion. 
 
 This last point is one of the most remarkable features of 
 the Epicurean mental discipline. Epicurus deprecated the 
 general habit of mankind in always hankering after some 
 new satisfaction to come ; always discontented with the pre- 
 sent, and oblivious of past comforts as if they had never been. 
 These past comforts ought to be treasured up by memory and 
 reflection, so that they might become as it were matter for 
 rumination, and might serve, in trying moments, even to 
 counterbalance extreme physical suffering. The health of 
 Epicurus himself was very bad during the closing years of 
 his life. There remains a fragment of his last letter, to an 
 intimate friend and companion, Idomeneus — 'I write this to 
 you on the last day of my life, which, in spite of the severest 
 internal bodily pains, is still a happy day, becaase I set against 
 them In the balance all the mental pleasure felt in the recollec- 
 tion of my past conversations with you. Take care of the 
 children left by Metrodorus, in a manner worthy of your 
 demeanour from boyhood towards me and towards philosophy.' 
 Bodily pain might thus be alleviated, when it occurred; it 
 might be greatly lessened in occurrence, by prudent and 
 moderate habits ; lastly, even at the worst, if violent, it never 
 lasted long ; if not violent, it might be patiently borne, and
 
 CAUSES OF HUMAN MISERY. 115 
 
 was at any rate terminated, or terminable at pleasure, by 
 deat\i. 
 
 In the view of Epicurus, the chief miseries of life arose, 
 not from bodily pains, but partly from delusions of hope, and 
 exaggerated aspirations for wealth, honours, power, &c., in 
 all which the objects appeared most seductive from a distance, 
 inciting man to lawless violence and treachery, while in the 
 reality thej^ were always disappointments, and generally some- 
 thing worse , partly, and still more, from the delusions of 
 fear. Of this last sort, were the two greatest torments of 
 human existence — Fear of Death, and of eternal suffering after 
 death, as announced by prophets and poets, and Fear of the 
 Gods. Epicurus, who did not believe in the continued 
 existence of the soul separate from the body, declared that 
 there could never be any rational ground for fearing death, 
 since it was simply a permanent extinction of consciousness.* 
 Death was nothing to us (he said) ; when death comes, we 
 are no more, either to suffer or to enjoy. Yet it was the 
 groundless fear of this nothing that poisoned all the tranquil- 
 lity of life, and held men imprisoned even when existence was a 
 torment. Whoever had surmounted that fear was armed at once 
 against cruel tyranny and against all the gravest misfortunes. 
 Next, the fear of the gods was not less delusive, and hardly 
 less tormenting, than the fear of deith. It was a capital 
 error (Epicurus declared) to suppose that the gods employed 
 themselves as agents in working or superintending the march of 
 the Cosmos ; or in conferring favour on some men, and admin- 
 istering chastisement to others. The vulgar religious tales, 
 which represented them in this character, were untrue and 
 insulting as regards the gods themselves, and pregnant with 
 perversion and misery as regards the hopes and fears of man- 
 kind. Epicurus believed sincerely in the gods ; reverenced 
 them as beings at once perfectly happy, immortal, and un- 
 changeable ; and took delight in the public religious festivals 
 and ceremonies. But it was inconsistent with these attri- 
 butes, and repulsive to his feelings of reverence, to conceive 
 them as agents. The idea of agency is derived from human 
 experience ; w^e, as agents, act with a view to supply some 
 want, to falfil some obligation, to acquire some pleasure, to 
 
 * The soul, according to Epicurus, was a subtle but energetic com- 
 pound (of air, vapour, heat, and another naineltss ingredient), with its best 
 parts concentrated in the chest, j-et pervading and sustaining the whole 
 body ; still, however, depending for its support on the body, aud incapable 
 of separate or disembodied continuance.
 
 116 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— EPICUKUS. 
 
 accomplish some object desii'ed but not yet attained — in short, 
 to fill np one or other of the many gaps in our imperfect happi- 
 ness ; the gods already have all that agents strive to get, and . 
 more than agents ever do get ; their condition is one not of 
 agency, but of tranquil, self-sustaining, fruition. Accordingly, 
 Epicurus thought (as Aristotle* had thought before him) 
 that the perfect, eternal, and imperturbable well-being and 
 felicity of the gods excluded the supposition of their being 
 agents. He looked upon them as types of that unmolested 
 safety and unalloyed satisfaction which was what he under- 
 stood by pleasure or happiness — as objects of reverential 
 envy, whose sympathy he was likely to obtain by assimilating 
 his own temper and condition to theirs, as far as human 
 circumstances allowed. 
 
 These theological views were placed by Epicurus in the 
 foreground of his ethical philosophy, as the only means of 
 dispelling those fears of the gods that the current fables 
 instilled into every one, and that did so much to destroy 
 human comfort and security. He proclaimed that beings in 
 immortal felicity neither suffered vexation in themselves nor 
 caused vexation to others — neither showed anger nor favour 
 to particular persons. The doctrine that they were the 
 working managers in the aflairs of the Cosmos, celestial and 
 terrestrial, human and extra-human, he not only repudiated 
 as incompatible with their attributes, but declared to be im- 
 pious, considering the disorder, sufferings, and violence, 
 everywhere visible. He disallowed all prophecy, divination, 
 and oracular inspiration, by which the public around him 
 believed that the gods were perpetually communicating 
 special revelations to individuals, and for which Sokrates had 
 felt so peculiarly thankful. f 
 
 It is remarkable that Stoics and Epicureans, in spite of 
 their marked opposition in dogma or theory, agreed so far 
 in practical results, that both declared these two modes of 
 uneasiness (fear of the gods and fear of death) to be the 
 great torments of human existence, and both strove to remove 
 or counterbalance them. 
 
 So far, the teaching of Epicurus appears confined to the 
 separate happiness of each individual, as dependent upon his 
 own prudence, sobriety, and correct views of Nature. But 
 
 • Aristot. De Coelo. II. a. 12, p. 292, 22, 6, 5. In the Ethics, Aristotle 
 assigns theorizing; conttmplcition to thn gods, as the only process worthy 
 of their exalted dignity and supreme felicity. 
 
 tXenophon Memor. 1. 1—10; IV. 3—12.
 
 EECIPEOCITY OF JUSTICE AND OF FRIENDSHIP. 117 
 
 this is not the -whole of the Epicurean Ethics. The system 
 also considered, ench man as in companionship with others ; 
 The precepts were shaped accordingly, first as to Justice, 
 next as to Friendship. In both these, the foundation where- 
 ou Epicurus built was Reciprocity : not pure sacrifice 
 to others, but partnership with others, beneficial to all. 
 He kept the ideas of self and of others inseparably knit 
 together in one complex association : he did not expel or 
 degrade either, in order to give exclusive ascendancy to the 
 otlier. The dictate of Natural Justice was that no man 
 should hurt another : each was bound to abstain from doing 
 harm to others ; each, on this condition, was entitled to count 
 on security and relief from the fear that others would do harm 
 to him. Such double aspect, or reciprocity, was essential to 
 social companionship : those that could not, or would not, 
 accept this covenant, were unfit for society. If a man does 
 not behave justly towards others, he cannot expect that they 
 will behave justly towards him ; to live a life of injustice, and 
 expect that others will not find it out, is idle. The unjust 
 man cannot enjoy a moment of security. Epicurus laid it 
 down explicitly, that just and righteous dealing was the indis- 
 pensable condition to every one's comfort, and was the best 
 means of attaining it. 
 
 The reciprocity of Justice was valid towards all the world; 
 the reciprocity of Friendship went much farther ; it involved 
 indefinite and active beneficence, but could reach only to a 
 select few. Epicurus insisted emphatically on the value of 
 friendship, as a means of happiness to both the persons so 
 united. He declared that a good friend was another self, and 
 that friends ought to be prepared, in case of need, to die for 
 each other. Yet he dechned to recommend an established 
 community of goods among the members of his fraternity, as 
 prevailed in the Pythagorean brotherhood : for such an insti- 
 tution (he said) implied mistrust. He recommended efforts 
 to please and to serve, and a forwardness to give, for the pur- 
 pose of gaining and benefiting a friend, and he even declared 
 that there was more pleasure in conferring favours than iu 
 receiving them ; but he was no less strenuous in inculcating 
 an intelligent gi-atitude on the receiver. No one except a 
 wise man (he said) knew how to return a favour properly.* 
 
 * These exhortations to active friendship were not unfruitful. We 
 know, even by the admission of witnesses adverse to the Epicurean 
 doctrines, that the harmony amoni^ the members of the sect, with common 
 Veneration for the founder, was more marked and more enduring thaD
 
 118 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — EPICTKUS. 
 
 Virtue and happiness, in the theory of Epicarus, were thus 
 inseparable. A man could not be happy until he had sur- 
 mounted the fear of death and the fear of pods instilled by the 
 current fables, which disturbed all tranquillity of mind ; until 
 he had banished those factitious desires that pushed hira 
 into contention for wealth, power, or celebrity ; nor unless he 
 behaved with justice to all, and with active devoted friendship 
 towards a few. Such a mental condition, which he thou^ht 
 it was in every man's power to acquire by appropriate teaching 
 and companionship, constituted virtue ; and was the sure as well 
 as the only precursor of genuine happiness. A mind thas un- . 
 disturbed and purified was sufficient to itself. The mere satis- 
 faction of the wants of life, and the conversation of friends, 
 became then felt pleasures ; if more could be had without pre- 
 ponderant mischief, so much the better; but Nature, dis- 
 burthencd of her corruptions and prejudices, required no more 
 to be happy. This at least was as much as the conditions of 
 humanity admitted : a tranquil, undisturbed, innocuous, non- 
 competitive fruition, which approached most nearly to the 
 perfect happiness of the Grods.* 
 
 The Epicurean theory of virtue is the type of all those that 
 make an enlightened self-interest the basis of right and 
 wrong. The four cardinal virtues were explained from the 
 Epicurean point of view. Pnidence was the supreme rule of 
 conduct. It was a calculation and balancing of pleasures and 
 pains. Its object was a judicious selection of pleasures to be 
 sought. It teaches men to forego idle wishes, and to despise 
 idle fears. Temrperance is the management of sensual plea- 
 sures. It seeks to avoid excess, so as on the whole to extract 
 
 that exhibited by any of the other pbilosophicrtl sects. Epicurus 
 himself was a man of amiable personal qualities: his testament, still 
 remaining, shows an affectionate regard, both tor his surviving friends, 
 and for the permanent attachment of each to the others, as well as of all 
 to the school. Diogenes Laertius tells us — nearly '200 years after Christ, 
 and 450 years after the death of Epicurus — that the Epicurean sect still 
 continued its numbers and dignity, having outlasted its contemporaries 
 and rivals. The harmony among the Epicurean-! may be explained, not 
 merely from the temper of the master, but partly from the doctrines and 
 plan of life that he recommended. Ambiti >n and love of power were 
 discouraged : rivalry among the members for succl'Ss, either political or 
 rhetorical, was at any rate a rare exception : all were taught to confine 
 themselves to that privacy of life and love of phil'>S!)i)}ucal communion 
 Avhich alike required and nourished the mutual sympathies of the 
 brotherhood. 
 
 * Consistently with this view of happiness, Epicurus advised, in 
 regard to politics, quiet submission to estah ished authority, without 
 active meddling beyond what necessity required.
 
 FREE-WILU 119 
 
 AS inucli pleasure as our bodily organs are capable of affording. 
 Fortitude is a virtue, because it overcomes fear and pain. It 
 consists in facing danger or enduring pain, to avoid greater 
 possible evils. Justice is of artificial origin. It consists in a 
 tacit agreement among mankind to abstain from injaring one 
 another. The security that everj man has in his person and 
 property, is the great consideration urging to abstinence from 
 injuiing others. But is it not possible to commit injustice 
 with safety ? The answer was, ' Injustice is not an evil in 
 itself, but becomes so from the fear that haunts the iujurer of 
 not being able to escape the appointed avengers of such acts.' 
 
 The Physics of Epicurus were borrowed in the main from 
 the atomic theory of Democritus, but were modified by him in 
 a manner subservient and contributory to his ethical scheme. 
 To that scheme it was essential that those celestial, atmos- 
 pheric, or terrestrial phenomena that the pnblic around him 
 ascribed to the agency and purposes of the gods, should be un- 
 derstood as being produced by physical causes. An eclipse, an 
 earthquake, a storm, a shipwreck, unusual rain or drought, a 
 good or a bad harvest — and not merely these, but many other 
 occurrences far smaller and more unimportant, as we may see 
 by the eighteenth chapter of the Characters of Tueophrastus 
 — were then regarded as visitations of the gods, requiring to 
 be interpreted by recognized prophets, and to be appeased by 
 ceremonial expiations. When once a man became convinced 
 that all these phenomena proceeded from physical agencies, a 
 host of terrors and anxieties would disappear from the mind ; 
 and this Epicurus asserted to be the beueticeut effect and real 
 recommendation of physical philosophy. He took little or no 
 thought for scientific curiosity as a motive per se, which both 
 Democritus and Aristotle put so much in the foreground. 
 
 Epicurus adopted the atomistic scheme of Democritus, but 
 with some important variations. He conceived that the atoms all 
 moved with equal velocity in the downward direction of gravity. 
 But it occurred to him that upon this hypothesis there could 
 never occur any collisions or combinations of the atoms — 
 nothing but continued and unchangeable parallel lines. Accord- 
 ingly, he modified it by saying that the line of descent was not 
 exactly rectilinear, but that each atom deflected a little from the 
 straight line, and each in its OAvn direction and degree ; so that 
 it became possible to assume collisions, resiliences, adhesions, 
 combinations, among them, as it had been possible under the 
 variety of original movements ascribed to them by Democritus. 
 The opponents of Epicurus derided this auxiliary hypothesis ;
 
 120 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — EPICURUS. 
 
 they affirmed that he invented the individual deflection of each 
 atom, without assigning any cause, and only because he was 
 perplexed hy the mystery of man's free-ivtU. But Epicurus 
 was not more open to attack on this ground than other phy- 
 sical philosophers. Most of them (except perhaps the most 
 consistent of the Stoic fatalists) believed that some among 
 the phenomena of the universe occurred in regular and pre- 
 dictable sequence, while others were essentially irregular and 
 unpredictable ; each philosopher devised his hypothesis, and 
 recognized some fundamental principle, to explain the first 
 class of phenomena as well as the second. Plato admitted an 
 invincible Erratic necessity ; Aristotle introduced Chance and 
 Spontaneity ; Democritus multiplied indefinitely the varieties 
 of atomic movements. The hypothetical deflexion alleged 
 by Epicurus was his way, not more unwarranted than the 
 others, of providing a fundamental principle for the unpre- 
 dictable phenomena of the universe. Among these are the 
 mental (including the volitional) manifestations of men and 
 animals ; but there are many others besides ; and there is no 
 ground for believing that the mystery of free-will was pecu- 
 liarly present to his mind. The movements of a man or 
 animal are not exclusively subject to gravitation and other 
 general laws ; they are partly governed by mental impulses 
 and by forces of the organism, intrinsic and peculiar to him- 
 self, unseen and unfelt by others. For these, in common with 
 many other untraceable phenomena in the material world, 
 Epicurus probacies a principle in the supplementary hypo- 
 thesis of deflexion. He rejected the fatalism contained 
 in the theories of some of the Stoics, and admitted a 
 limited range of empire to chance, or irregularity. But 
 he maintained that the will, far from being among the 
 phenomena essentially irregular, is under the influence of 
 motives ; for no man can insist more strenuously than he 
 does (see the Letter to Menoeceus) on the complete power of 
 philosophy, — if the student could be made to feel its necesbi-y 
 and desire the attainment of it, so as to meditate and engrain 
 within himself sound views about the gods, death, and human 
 life generally, — to mould oar volitions and character in a 
 manner conformable to the exigencies of virtue and happiness. 
 When we read the explanations given by Epicurus and^ 
 Lucretius of what the Epicurean theory really was, and com- 
 pare them with the numerous attacks made upon it by oppo- 
 nents, we cannot but remark that the title or formula of the 
 theory was ill chosen, and was really a misnomer. What 

 
 PLOTINUS. 121 
 
 Epicurus meant by Pleasure was, not what most people meant 
 by it, but something very, different — a tranquil and comfortable 
 state of mind and body ;/much the same as what Deniocritus 
 had expressed before him by the phrase evGv/nin. This last 
 phrase would have expressed what Epicurus aimed at, neither 
 more nor less. It would at least have preserved his theory 
 from, much misplaced sarcasm and aggressive rhetoric. 
 
 THE NEO-PLATONISTS. 
 PLOTINUS (A.D. 205—70), PORPHYRY, &c. 
 
 Constructed with reference to the broken-down state of 
 ancient society, and seeking its highest aim in a regenera- 
 tion of humanity, the philosophical system of Neo-Platonism 
 was throughout ethical or ethico-religious in spirit ; yet its 
 ethics admits of no great development according to the 
 usual topics. A pervading ethical character is not incom- 
 patible with the absence of a regular ethical scheme; and 
 there was this peculiarity in the system, that its end, though 
 professedly moral, was to be attained by means of an intel- 
 lectual regimen. In setting up its ideal of human effort, ifc 
 was least of all careful about prescribing a definite course of 
 external conduct. 
 
 The more strictly ethical views of Plotinus, the chief re- 
 presentative of the school, are found mainly in the first of the 
 six Enneads into which Porphyry collected his master's essays. 
 But as they presuppose the cosmological and psychological 
 doctrines, their place in the works, as now arranged, is to be 
 regarded as arbitrary. The soul having fallen from its 
 original condition, and, in consequence and as a penalty, 
 having become united with a matei-ial body, the one true 
 aim recognized for human action is, to rise above the de- 
 basing connection with matter, and again to lead the old 
 spiritual life. For those that have sunk so far as to be con- 
 tent with the world of sense, wisdom consists in pursuino* 
 pleasure as good, and shunning pain as evil : but the others 
 can partake of a better life, in different degrees. The first 
 Htep in reformation is to practise virtue in tlie affairs of life, 
 which means to subject Sense and the lower desires to Keason. 
 This is done in the fourfold form of the common cardinal 
 virtues, called political bv Plotinus, to mark the sphere of 
 action where they can be exerted, and is the virtue of a class 
 of men capable of a certain elevation, though ignorant of all the 
 
 rest that lies above them. A second step is made throuf^-h the 
 6 r o
 
 122 Kl'HlCAL SYSTEMS — THE NEO-PLATOXISTS. 
 
 means of the KaOa psei<}Ov inirifijing virtues ; where it is sought to 
 root out, instead of merely moderating, the sensual affections. 
 If the soul is thus altogether freed from the dominion of sense, 
 it becomes at once able to follow its natural bent towards 
 good, and enters into a permanent state of calm. This is 
 virtue in its true meaning — becoming like to the Deity, all 
 that went before being merely a preparation. The pure and 
 perfect life of the soul may still be described as a field 
 whereon the four virtues are exercised, but they now assume 
 a far higher meaning than as political virtues, having relation 
 solely to the contemplative life of the Nous. 
 
 Happiness is unknown to Plotinus as distinct from per- 
 fection, and perfection in the sense of having subdued all 
 material cravings (except as regards the bare necessities of 
 life), and entered upon the undisturbed life of contemplation. 
 If this recalls, at least in name, the Aristotelian ideal, there 
 are points added that appear to be echoes of Stoicism. Rapt 
 in the contemplation of eternal verities, the purified soul is 
 indifferent to external circumstances : pain and suffering are 
 unheeded, and the just man can feel happy even in the bull of 
 Phalaris. But in one important respect the Neo- Platonic 
 teaching is at variance with Stoical doctrine. Though its 
 first and last precept is to rid the soul from the bondage of 
 matter, it warns against the attempt to sever body and soul 
 by suicide. By no forcible separation, which would be 
 followed by a new junction, but only by prolonged internal 
 effort is the soul so set free from the world of sense, as to be 
 able to have a vision of its ancient home while still in the 
 body, and to return to it at death. Small, therefore, as is 
 the consideration bestowed by Neo-Platonism on the affairs 
 of practical life, it has no disposition to shirk the burden of 
 them. 
 
 One other peculiar aim, the highest of all, is proposed to 
 the soul in the Alexandrian philosophy. It is peculiar, because 
 to be understood only in connexion with the metaphysics and 
 cosmology of the system. In the theory of Emanation, the 
 primordial One or Good emits the Nous wherein the Ideas are . 
 immanent ; the Nous, in turn, sends forth the Soul, and the 
 Soul, Matter or nature ; the gradation applying to man as well 
 as to the Universe. Now, to each of these principles, there is 
 a corresponding subjective state in the itmer life of man. 
 The life of sense answers to nature or the material body; the 
 virtue that is founded upon free-will and reason, to the soul ; 
 the contemplative life, as the result of complete purificatioa 
 
 J
 
 ABAELAKD. 123 
 
 from sense, to tlie Nous or Sphere of Ideas ; finally, to tbe One 
 or Good, supreme in the scale of existence, corresponds the 
 state of Love, or, in its highest form, Ecstasij. This peculiar 
 elevation is something far above the highest intellectual con- 
 templation, and is not reached by thought. It is not even a 
 mere intuition of, but a real union or contact with, the Good. 
 To attain it, there must be a complete withdrawal into self 
 from the external world, and then the subject must wait 
 quietly till perchanc^ the stat" comes on. It is one of ineffable 
 bliss, but, from the nature of man, transitory and rare. 
 
 SCHOLASTIC ETHICS. 
 
 AiUELARD (1079-1142) has a special treatise on the subject 
 of Ethics, entitled Scito te ipsiom. As the name implies, it 
 lays chief stress upon the Subjective element in morality, and, 
 in this aspect, is considered to supply the idea that underlies 
 a very large portion of modern ethical speculation. By nature 
 a notoriously independent thinker, Abaelard claimed for philo- 
 sophy the right of discussing ethical questions and fixing a 
 natural moral law, though he allowed a corrective in the 
 Christian scheme. Having this position with reference to the 
 church, he was also much less under the yoke of philosophical 
 authority than his successors, from living at a time when 
 Aristotle was not yet supreme. Yet, with Aristotle, he assigns 
 the attainment of the highest good as the aim of all human 
 efibrt. Ethics showing the way ; and, with the schoolmen gene- 
 rally, pronounces the highest good to be God. If the highest 
 good in itself is God, the highest human good is love to God. 
 This is attained by way of virtue, which is a good Will con- 
 solidated into a habit. On the influence of habit on action his 
 view is Aristotelian. His own specialty lies in his judging 
 actions solely with reference to the intention (intentio) of the 
 agent, and this intention with reference to conscience (con- 
 scientia). All actions, he says, are in themselves indifferent, 
 and not to be called good or evil except from the intention of 
 the doer. Peccatum is properly only the action that is done 
 with evil intent; and where this is present, where the mental 
 consent (consensus) is clearly established, there is peccatum^ 
 though the action remains unexecuted. When the consensus 
 is absent, as in original sin, there is only vitium ; hence, a 
 life without peccata is not impossible to men in the exercise 
 of their freedom, however difficult it may be. 
 
 The supremacy assigned by him to the subjective element 
 of conscience appears in such phrases as, there is no sin except
 
 124 ETHICAL SYSTEMS - SCHOLASTIC ETHICS. 
 
 I 
 
 against conscience ; also in the opinion he pronounces, that, 
 though in the case of a mistaken moral conviction, an action 
 is not to be called good, yet it is not so bad as an action 
 objectively right but done against conscience. Thus, with- 
 out allowing that conscientious persecutors of Christians act 
 rightly, he is not afraid, in the application of his principle, 
 to say that they would act still more wrongly if through 
 not listening to their conscience, they spared their victims. 
 But this means only that by following- conscience we avoid 
 sinning; for virtue in the full sense, ic is necessary that the 
 conscience should have judged rightly. By what standard, 
 however, this is to be ascertained, he nowhere clearly says. 
 Contemptus Dei, given by him as the real and only thing that 
 constitutes an action bad, is merely another subjective de- 
 scription. 
 
 St. Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153), the strenuous 
 opponent of Abaelard, and the great upholder of mysticism 
 against rationahsm in the early scholastic period when the 
 two were not yet reconciled, gave utterance, in the course of 
 his mystical effusions, to some special views of love and dis- 
 interestedness. 
 
 There are two degrees of Christian virtue. Humility and 
 Charity or Love. When men look into themselves, and behold 
 the meanness that is found there, the fitting state of mind is, 
 first, humility; but soon the sense of their very weakness 
 begets in them charity and compassion towards others, while 
 the sense also of a certain human dignity raises within them 
 feelings of love towards the author of then' being. The treatise 
 De Amove Dei sets forth tlie nature of this love, which is the 
 highest exercise of human powers. Its fundamental charac- 
 teristic is its disinterestedness. It has its reward, but from 
 meriting, not from seeking. It is purely voluntary, and, as a 
 free sentiment, necessarily unbought; it has God for its single 
 object, and would not be love to God, if he were loved for the 
 sake of something else. 
 
 He distinguishes various degrees of love. There is, first, 
 a natural love of self for the sake of self. Next, a motion 
 of love towards God amid earthly misfortunes, which also is 
 not disinterested. The third degree is different, being love to 
 God for his own sake, and to our neighbour for God's sake. 
 But the highest grade of all is not reached, until men come to 
 love even themselves only by relation to God ; at this point, 
 with the disappearance of all special and interested affectioii, 
 the mystic goal is attained.
 
 REVIVAL OF ARISTOTLE. 125 
 
 John of Salisbury (d. 1180) is the last name to be cited 
 in the early scholastic period. He professed to be a practical 
 philosopher, to be more concerned about the uses of know- 
 ledge than about knowledge itself, and to subordinate every- 
 thing to some purpose ; by way of protest against the theo- 
 retic hair-splitting and verbal subtleties of his pi-edecessors. 
 Even more than in Ethics, he found in Politics his proper sphere. 
 He was the staunchest upholder of the Papal Supremacy, 
 which, after long struggles, was about to be established at its 
 greatest height, before presiding at the opening of the most 
 brilliant period of scholasticism. 
 
 In the PoUcratlcus especially, but also in his other works, 
 the foundations and provisions of his moral system are found. 
 He has no distinction to draw in Ethics between theology and 
 philosophy, but uses Scidpture and observation alike, though 
 Scripture always in the final appeal. Of philosophizing, the 
 one final aim, as also of existence, is Happiness ; the question 
 of questions, how it is to be attained. Happiness is not 
 pleasure, nor possession, nor honour, but consists in following 
 the path of virtue. Virtue is to be understood from the consti- 
 tution of human nature. In man, there is a lower and a higher 
 faculty of Desire; or, otherwise expressed, there are the 
 various afiections that have their roots in sense and centre in 
 self-love or the desire of self-preservation, and there is also a 
 natural love of justice implanted from the beginning. In 
 proportion as the appetitus justi, which consists in will, 
 gains upon the appetitus commodi, men become more worthy 
 of a larger happiness. Self-love rules in man, so long as 
 he is in the natural state of sin ; if, amid great conflict and 
 by divine help, the higher affection gains the upper hand, 
 the state of true virtue, which is identical with the theoretic 
 state of belief, and also of pure love to God and man, is 
 reached. 
 
 By the middle of the thirteenth century, the schoolmen had 
 before them the whole works of Aristotle, obtained from 
 Arabian and other sources. Whereas, previous to this time, 
 they had comprehended nearly all the subjects of Philosophy 
 under the one name of Dialectics or Logic, always reserving, 
 however. Ethics to Theology, they were now made aware of 
 the ancient division of the sciences, and of what had been 
 accomplished in each. The effect, both in respect of form 
 and of subject-matter, was soon apparent in such compilations 
 or more independent works as they w^ere able to produce 
 after their commentaries on the Aristotelian text. But in
 
 126 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— SCH0LA.ST1C ETHICS. 
 
 Ethics, the nature of the subject demanded of men in 
 their position a less entire submission to the doctrines of 
 the pagan philosopher ; and here accordingly they clung 
 to the traditional theological treatment. If they were 
 commenting on the Ethics of Aristotle, the Bible was at hand 
 to supply his omissions ; if they were setting up a complete 
 moral system, they took little more than the ground-work 
 from him, the rest being Cliristian ideas and precepts, or 
 fragments borrowed from Platonism and other Greek systems, 
 nearly allied in spirit to their own faith. 
 
 This is especially true, as will be seen, of Thomas Aquinas. 
 His predecessors can be disposed of in a few words. 
 Alexander of Hales (d. 1245) was almost purely theological. 
 BoNAVENTURA (1221-74) in his double character of rigid Fran- 
 ciscan and mystic, was led far beyond the Aristotelian Ethics. 
 The mean between excess and defect is a very good rule for 
 the affairs of life, but the true Christian is bound besides to 
 works of supererogation : first of all, to take on the con- 
 dition of poverty ; while the state of mystic contemplation 
 remains as a still higher goal for the few. Albert the Great 
 (1193-1280), the most learned and complete commentator of 
 Aristotle that had yet appeared, divide the whole subject of 
 Ethics into Monastica^ (Econoniica, and Politica. In this 
 division, which is plainly suggested by the Aristotelian division 
 of Politics in the large sense, the term Monastica not inaptly 
 expresses the reference that Ethics has to the conduct of men 
 as individuals. Albert, however, in commenting on the 
 Nicomachean Ethics, adds exceeedingly little to the results of 
 his author beyond the incorporation of a few Scriptural ideas. 
 To the cardinal virtues he appends the virhites adj^mctce^ 
 Faith, Hope, and Charity, and again in his compendious work, 
 Summa TheoIogicE, distinguishes them as i7ifus<B, the cardinal 
 being considered as acquisitce. 
 
 Besides his commentaries on the Aristotelian works (the 
 Ethics included) and many other writings, Thomas AquixaS 
 (1226-74) left two lai^ge works, the Smnma jphilosopliicob 
 and the famous Summcb Theologioe. Notwithstanding the 
 prominence assigned to theological questions, the first is a 
 regular philosophical work ; the second, though containing 
 the exposition of philosophical opinions, is a theological text- 
 book. Now, as it is in the Summary for theological purposes 
 that the whole practical philosophy of Aquinas is contained, 
 it is to be inferred that he regarded the subject of Ethics 
 as not on the same level with other departments of philo-
 
 THOMAS AQUINAS. 127 
 
 Bophy. Moreover, even when he is not appealing to Scrip- 
 ture, he is seen to display what is for him a most unusual 
 tendency to desert Aristotle, at the really critical moments, 
 for Plato or Plotinus, or any other authority of a more theo- 
 logical cast. 
 
 In. the (unfinished) Summa Theologice, the Ethical views 
 and cognate questions occupy the two sections of the second 
 part — the so-called prima and secunda secundce. He begins, in 
 the Aristotelian fashion, by seeking an ultimate end of human 
 action, and finds it in the attainment of the highest good or 
 happiness. But as no created thing can answer to the idea 
 of the highest good, it must be placed in God. God, however, 
 as the highest good, can only be the object, in the search after 
 human happiness, for happiness in itself is a state of the 
 mind or act of the soul. The question then arises, what sort 
 of act ? Does it fall under the Will or under the Intelligence ? 
 The answer is, ISTot under the will, because happiness is neither 
 desire nor pleasure, but consecucio, that is, a possessing. Desire 
 precedes consecutio, and pleasure follows upon it ; but the act 
 of getting possession, in which lies happiness, is distinct from 
 both. This is illustrated by the case of the miser having his 
 happiness in the mere possession of money ; and the position 
 is essentially the same as Butler's, in regard to our appetites 
 and desires, that they blindly seek their objects with no regard 
 to pleasure. Thomas concludes that the consecutio, or hap- 
 piness, is an act of the intelligence ; what pleasure there is 
 being a mere accidental accompaniment. 
 
 Distinguishing between two phases of the intellect — the 
 theoretic and the practical — in the one of which it is an end 
 to itself, but in the other subordinated to an external aim, he 
 places true happiness in acts of the self-sufficing theoretic 
 intelligence. In this life, however, such a constant exercise 
 of the intellect is not possible, and accordingly what happi- 
 ness there is, must be found, in great measure, in the exercise 
 of the practical intellect, directing and governing the lower 
 desires and passions. This twofold conception of happiness 
 is Aristotelian, even as expressed by Thomas under the 
 distinction of perfect and imperfect happiness ; but when 
 he goes on to associate perfect happiness with the future 
 life only, to found an argument for a future life from the 
 desire of a happiness more perfect than can be found here, 
 and to make the pure contemplation, in which consists highest 
 bliss, a vision of the divine essence face to face, a direct 
 cognition of Deity far surpassing demonstrative knowledge or
 
 128 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— SCHOLASTIC ETHICS. 
 
 1 
 
 mortal faith — he is more theologian than philosopher, or if 
 a philosopher, more Platonist than Aristotelian. 
 
 The condition of perfect happiness being a theoretic or 
 intellectual state, the vislo, and not the dtlectatio, is consistently 
 given as its central fact; and when he proceeds to consider the 
 other questions of Ethics, the same superiority is steadily 
 ascribed to the intellectual function. It is because we k7ww a 
 thing to be good that we wish it, and knowing it, we cannot 
 help wishing. Conscience, as the name implies, is allied to 
 knowledge. Reason gives the law to will. 
 
 After a long disquisition about the passions and the whole 
 appetitive side of human nature, over which Reason is called 
 to rule, he is brought to the subject of virtue. ■ He is Aristo- 
 telian enough to describe virtue as habitus — a disposition or 
 quality (like health) whereby a subject is more or less well dis- 
 posed with reference to itself or something else ; and he takes 
 account of the acquisition of good moral habits (virtutes acqui- 
 sitoe) by practice. But with this he couples, or tends to sub- 
 stitute for it, the definition of Augustin that virtue is a good 
 quality of mind, qaam Deus in nobis sine nobis operatur, as 
 a gTound for virtutes iiifusce, conferred as gifts upon man, or 
 rather on certain men, by free grace from on high. He 
 wavers greatly at this stage, and in this respect his attitude is 
 characteristic for all the schoolmen. 
 
 So again in passing from the general question of Virtue 
 to the virtues, he puts several of the systems under contribu- 
 tion, as if not prepared to leave the guidance of Aristotle, but 
 feeling at the same time the necessity of bridging over the 
 distance between his position and Christian requirements. 
 Understanding Aristotle to make a co-ordinate division of 
 virtues into Moral and Intellectual, he gives reasons for such 
 a step. Though virtue, he says, is not so much the perfecting 
 of the operation of our faculties, as their employment by the 
 will for good ends, it may be used in the first sense, and thus 
 the intellectual virtues will be the habits of intelligence that 
 procure the truest knowledge. The well-known division of 
 the cardinal virtues is his next theme ; and it is established as 
 complete and satisfactory by a twofold deduction. But a 
 still higher and more congenial view is immediately after- 
 wards adopted from Plotinus. This is the Neo-Platonio 
 description of the four virtues as j}o?/^/cce, imrgatorice, and 
 purgati animi, according to the scale of elevation reached 
 by the soul in its efforts to mount above sense. They are 
 called by Thomas also exemplares, when regarded at once
 
 AQUINAS ON THE VIRTUES. 129 
 
 as the essence of the Deity, and as the models of human 
 perfections. 
 
 This mystical division, not unsupported by philosophical 
 authority, smooths the way for his account of the highest 
 or theological virtues. These bear upon the vision of Deity, 
 which was recognized above as the highest good of humanity, 
 and form an order apart. They have God for their object, 
 are altogether inspired by God (hence called infusce), and are 
 taught by revelation. Given in connection with the natural 
 faculties of intellect and will, they are exhibited in the attain- 
 ment of the supernatural order of things. With intellect goes 
 Faith, as it were the intellect applied to things not intelligible ; 
 "with Will go Hope and Charity or Love : Hope being the Will 
 exercised upon things not naturally desired, and Love the 
 union of Will with what is not naturally brought near to us. 
 
 Aquinas then passes to politics, or at least the discussion 
 of the political ideas of law, right, &c. 
 
 Coming now to modern thinkers, we begin with 
 
 THOMAS HOBBES. [1588-1679.] 
 
 The circumstances of Hobbes's life, so powerful in deter- 
 mining the nature of his opinions, had an equally marked 
 effect on the order and number of expositions that he gave to 
 the psychological and political parts of his system. His 
 ethical doctrines, in as far as they can be dissociated from 
 his politics, may be t-ludied in no less than three distinct 
 forms ; either in the hrst part of the Leviathian (1651) ; or 
 in the De Cive (1647), taken along with the De Homine 
 (1658); or in the Treatise of Human Nature (1650, but written 
 ten years earlier), coupled with the De Corpore Politico (also 
 1650). But the same result, or with only unimportant varia- 
 tions, being obtained from all, we need not here go beyond 
 the first-mentioned. 
 
 In the first part of the Leviathan, then, bearing the title 
 Of Man, and designed to consider Man as at once the matter 
 and artificer of the Commonwealth or State, Hobbes is led, 
 after discussing Sense, Imagination, Train of Imaginations, 
 Speech, Reason and Science, to take up, in chapter sixth, the 
 Passions, or, as he calls them, the Interior beginnings of volun- 
 tary motions. Motions, he says, are either vital and animal, 
 or voluntary. Vital motions, e.g., circulation, nutrition, &c., 
 need no help of imagination ; on the other hand, voluntary 
 motions, as going and speaking — since they depend on a pre- 
 cedent thought of whither, which way, and what — have in
 
 130 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 
 
 the imagination their first beginning. But imagination is 
 only the relics of sense, and sense, as Hobbes always declares, 
 is motion in the human organs communicated by objects 
 without ; consequently, visible voluntary motions begin in 
 invisible internal motions, whose nature is expressed by the 
 word Endeavour. When the endeavour is towards something 
 causing it, there is Appetite or Desire ; endeavour ' fromward 
 something ' is Aversion, These very words, and the corre- 
 sponding terms in Greek, imply an actual, not — as the school- 
 men absurdly think — a metaphorical motion. Passing from 
 the main question, he describes Love and Hate as Desire and 
 Aversion when the object is present. Of appetites, some are 
 born with us, others proceed from experience, being of parti- 
 cular things. Where we neither desire nor hate, we contemn 
 [he means, disregard]. Appetites and aversions vary in the 
 same person, and much more in differenrt persons. 
 
 Then follows his definition of good, — the object of any 
 man's appetite or desire, as evil is the object of his hate and 
 aversion. Good and evil are always merely relative, either to 
 the person of a man, or in a commonwealth to the representa- 
 tive person, or to an arbitrator if chosen to settle a dispute. 
 Good in the promise is pulchrum, for which there is no exact 
 English term ; good in the effect, as the end desired, is 
 delightful ; good as the means, is useful or profitable. There 
 is the same variety of evil. 
 
 His next topic is Pleasure. As sense is, in reality, motion, 
 but, in ^apparence/ light or sound or odour; so appetite, in 
 reality a motion or endeavour effected in the heart by the 
 action of objects through the organs of sense, is, in 'appar- 
 ence,' delight or trouble of mind. The emotion, whose ap- 
 jparence {i.e., subjective side) is pleasure or delight, seems 
 to be a corroboration of vital motion ; the contrary, in the 
 case of 1 olestation. Pleasure is, therefore, the sense of 
 good ; displeasure, the sense of evil. The one accompanies, 
 in greater or less degree, all desire and love; the other, 
 all aversion and hatred. Pleasures are either of sense; 
 or of the mind, when arising from the expectation that pro- 
 ceeds from the foresight of the ends or consequence of things, 
 irrespective of their pleasing the senses or not. For these 
 mental pleasures, there is the general name joy. There is a 
 corresponding division of displeasure into pai^i and grief. 
 
 All the other passions, he now proceeds to show, are 
 these simple passions — appetite, desire, love, aversion, hate, 
 joy, and grief, diversified in name for divers considerations.
 
 SIMPLE PASSIONS. 131 
 
 Incidental remarks of ethical importance are these. CoveU 
 ou87iess, the desire of riches, is a name signifying blame, 
 because men contending for them are displeased with others 
 attaining them ; the desii^e itself, however, is to be blamed or 
 allowed, according to the means whereby the riches are sought. 
 Curiosihj is a lust of the mind, that by a perseverance of delight 
 in the continual ganeration of knowledge, exceedeth the short 
 vehemence of any carnal pleasure. Pit;/ is grief for the calamity 
 of another, arising from the imagination of the like calamity 
 befalling one's self; the best men have, therefjre, least pity 
 for calamity arising from great wickedness. Coyiteirqd, or little 
 sense of the calamity of others, proceeds from security of one's 
 own fortune ; ' for that any man should take pleasure in other 
 men's great harms, without other end of his own, I do not 
 conceive it possible.' 
 
 Having explained the various passions, he then gives his 
 theory of the Will. He supposes a liberty in man of doing or 
 omitting, according to appetite or aversion. But to this 
 liberty an end is put in the state of delihei-ation wherein there 
 is kept up a constant succession of alternating desires and 
 aversions, hopes and fears, regarding one and the same thing. 
 One of two results follows. Either'the thing is judged im- 
 possible, or it is done ; and this, according as aversion or 
 appetite triumphs at the last. Now, the last aversion, fol- 
 lowed by omission, or the last appet-to, followed by action, 
 is the act of Willing. Will is, tiierefore, the last appetite 
 (taken to include aversion) in deliberating. So-called Will, 
 that has been forborne, was inclination merely : but the last 
 inclination with consequent action (or omission) is Will, or 
 voluntary action. 
 
 After mentioning the forms of speech where the several 
 passions and appetites are naturally expressed, and remarking 
 that the truest signs of passion are in the countenance, 
 motions of the body, actions, and ends or aims otherwise 
 known to belong to a man, — he returns to the question of good 
 and evil. It is apparent good and evil, come at by the best 
 possible foresight of all the consequences of action, that excite 
 the appetites and aversions in deliberation. Felicitij he defines 
 continual success in obtaining the things from time to time 
 desired; perpetual tranqnillity of mind being impossible in 
 this life, which is but motion, and cannot be without desire 
 and fear any more than without sense. The happiness of the 
 ftiture life is at present unknown. 
 
 Men, he says at the close, praise the goodness, and magnify
 
 132 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 
 
 the greatness, of a thing; the Greeks had also the word 
 fiaicapia/ii6^, to express an opinion of a man's felicity. 
 
 In Chapter VII,, Of the Ends of Discourse, he is led to 
 remark on the meaning of Cunscience, in connection with the 
 word Conscious. Two or more men, he says, are conscious of 
 a thing when they know it together {con-sclre.) Hence arises 
 the proper meaning of conscience ; and the evil of speaking 
 against one's conscience, in this sense, is to be allowed. Two 
 other meanings are metaphorical : when it is put for a man's 
 knowledge of his own secret facts and thoughts ; and when men 
 give their own new opinions, however absurd, the reverenced 
 name of conscience, as if they would have it seem unlawful to 
 change or speak against them. [Hobbes is not concerned to 
 foster the moral independence of individuals.] 
 
 He begins Chapter YIII. by defining Virtue as something 
 that is valued for eminence, and that consists in comparison, 
 but proceeds to consider only the intellectual virtues — all that 
 is summed up in the term of a good ivit — and their opposites. 
 Farther on, he refers difference of wits — discretion, prudence, 
 craft, &c. — to diiFerence in the passions, and this to difference 
 in constitution of body and of education. The passions 
 chiefly concerned are the desires of power, riches, knowledge, 
 honour, but all may be reduced to the single desire of power. 
 
 In Chapter IX. is given his Scheme of Sciences. The 
 relation in his mind bciwoen Ethics and Politics is here seen. 
 Science or Philosophy is divided into Natural or Civil, ac- 
 cording as it is knowledge of consequences from the accidents 
 of natural bodies or of politic bodies. Ethics is one of the 
 ultimate divisions of Natural Philosophy, dealing with conse- 
 quences from the passions of men ; and because the passions 
 are qualities of bodies, it falls more immediately under the 
 head of Physics. Politics is the whole of the second main 
 division, and deals with consequences from the institution of 
 commonwealths (1) to the rights and duties of the Sovereign, 
 and (2) to the duty and right of the Subject. 
 
 Ethics, accordingly, in Hobbes's eyes, is part of the science 
 of man (as a natural body), and it is always treated as such. 
 But subjecting, as he does, so much of the action of the indi- 
 vidual to the action of the state, he necessarily includes in 
 his Politics many questions that usually fall to Ethics. Hence 
 arises the necessity of studying for his Ethics also part of the 
 civil Philosophy; though it happens that, in the Leviathan, 
 this requisite part is incorporated with the Section containing 
 the Science of Man.
 
 POWEK. — HAPPINESS. 133 
 
 Chapter X. is on Power, Worth, Dignity, Honour, and 
 Worthiness. A nian's power being his present means to 
 obtain some future apparent good, he enumerates all the 
 sources of original and acquired power. The ivorth of a man 
 is what would be given for the use of his power ; it is, there- 
 fore, never absolute, but dependent on the need and judgment 
 of another. Diguity is the value set on a man by the state. 
 Honour and dishonour are the manifestation of value. He goes 
 through all the signs of honour and dishonour. Honourable 
 is any possession, action, or quality that is the sign of power. 
 Where there is the opinion of power, the justice or injustice 
 of an action does not affect the honour. He clearly means a 
 universally accepted opinion of power, and cites the characters 
 of the pagan deities. So, too, before times of civil order, it was 
 held no dishonour to be a pirate, and even still, duels, though 
 unlawful, are honourable, and will be till there be honour 
 ordained for them that refuse. Farther on, he distinguishes 
 Worthiness^ (1) from worth, Pvnd (2) from merit, or the posses- 
 sion of a particular ability or desert, which, as will be seen, 
 presupposes a right to a thing, founded on a promise. 
 
 Chapter XI, bears the title. Of the difference of Manners ; 
 by manners being meant, not decency of behaviour and points 
 of the * small morals,' but the qualities of mankind that con- 
 cern their living together in peace and unity. Felicity of 
 life, as before, he pronounces to be a continual progress of 
 desire, there being no finis ultlmus nor summum honum. The 
 aim of all men is, therefore, not only to enjoy once and for an 
 instant, but to assure for ever the way of future desire. Men 
 differ in their way of doing so, from diversity of passion and 
 their different degrees of knowledge. One thing he notes as 
 common to all, a restless and perpetual desire of posver after 
 power, because the present power of living well depends on 
 the acquisition of more. Competition inclines to conten- 
 tion and war. The desire of ease, on the other hand, and 
 fear of death or wounds, dispose to civil obedience. So also 
 does desire of knowledge, implying, as it does, desire of leisure. 
 Desire of praise and desire of fame after death dispose to 
 laudable actions ; in such fame, there is a present delight 
 from foresight of it, and of benefit redounding to posterity; 
 for pleasure to the sense is also pleasure in the imagination. 
 Unrequitable benefits from an equal engender secret hatred, 
 but from a superior, love ; the cheerfal acceptation, called grat- 
 iiude, requiting the giver with honour. Requitable benefits, 
 even from equals or inferiors, dispose to love ; for hence
 
 134 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 
 
 arises emnlatioii in benefiting — ' the most noble and profitable 
 contention possible, wherein the victor 'is pleased with his 
 victory, and the other revenged by confessing it.' He passes 
 under review other dispositions, such as fear of oppression, 
 vain-glory, ambition, pusillanimity, frugality, &c., with re- 
 ference to the course of conduct they prompt to. Then he 
 comes to a favourite subject, the mistaken courses whereinto 
 men fall that are ignorant of natural causes and the proper 
 signification of words. The efiect of ignorance of the causes 
 of right, equity, law, and justice, is to make custom and 
 example the rule of actions, as with children, or to induce 
 the setting of custom against reason, and reason against 
 custom, whereby the doctrine of right and wrong is per- 
 petually disputed, both by the pen, and by the sword. Again, 
 taking up ignorance of the laws of nature, he is led on to the 
 subject of natural Religion, and devotes also the whole of 
 Chapter XII. to Religion and kindred topics. 
 
 In Chapter XIII., he deals with the natural condition of 
 Mankind, as concerning their Felicity and Misery. All men, 
 he says, are by nature equal. Dilferences there are in the 
 faculties of body and mind, but, when all is taken together, 
 not great enough to establish a steady superiority of one over 
 another. Besides even more than in strength, men are equal 
 in prudence, which is but experience that comes to all. People 
 indeed generally believe that others are not so wise as them- 
 selves, but * there is not ordinarily a greater sign of equal 
 distribution of anything than that every person is contented 
 with his share.' 
 
 Of this equality of ability, the consequence is that two 
 men desiring the exclusive possession of the same thing, 
 whether for their own conservation or for delectation, will 
 become enemies and seek to destroy each other. In such a 
 case, it will be natural for any man to seek to secure himself 
 by anticipating others in the use of force or wiles ; and, because 
 some will not be content with merely securing themselves, 
 others, who would be content, will be driven to take the offen- 
 sive for mere self-conservation. Moreover, men will be dis- 
 pleased at being valued by others less highly than by them- 
 selves, and will use force to extort respect. 
 
 Thus, he finds three principal causes of quarrel in the 
 nature of man — comjpetitwn , diffidence (distrust), and glory, 
 making men invade for gain, for safety, and for reputation. 
 Men will accordingly, in the absence of any power to keep 
 them in awe, be in a coiisiani state of war ; by which is meant,
 
 MISERIES OF THE STA.TE OF NATURE. 135 
 
 not actnal fighting, but the known disposition thereto, and 
 no assurance to the contrary. 
 
 He proceeds to draw a very dismal picture of the results 
 of this state of enmity of man against man — no industry, 
 no agriculture, no arts, no society, and so forth, but only 
 fear and danger of violent death, and life solitary, poor, 
 nasty, brutish, and short. To those that doubt the truth of 
 such an ' inference made from the passions,' and desire the 
 confirmation of experience, he cites the wearing of arms and 
 locking of doors, &c., as actions that accuse mankind as much 
 as any words of his. Besides, it is not really to accuse man s 
 nature ; for the desires and passions are in themselves no sin, 
 nor the actions proceeding from them, until a law is made 
 agaiust them. He seeks further evidence of an original con- 
 dition of war, in the actual state of American savages, with 
 no government at all, but only a concord of small families, 
 depending on natural lust ; also in the known horrors of a 
 civil war, when there is no common power to fear ; and, 
 finally, in the constant hostile attitude of different governments. 
 
 In the state of natural war, the notions of right and wrong, 
 justice and injustice, have no place, there being no law ; and 
 there is no law, because there is no common power. Force 
 and fraud are in war the two cardinal virtues. Justice is no 
 faculty of body and mind like sense and passion, but only a 
 quality relating to men in society. Then adding a last touch 
 to the description of the state of nature, — by saying of pro- 
 perty, that ' only that is every man's that he can get, and for so 
 long as he can keep it,' — he opens up, at the close of the 
 chapter, a new prospect by allowing a possibility to come out 
 of so evil a condition. The possibility consists partly in 
 the passions that incline to peace — viz., fear of death, desire 
 of things necessary to commodious living, and hope by in- 
 dustry to obtain them ; partly in reason, which suggests con- 
 venient articles of peace and agreement, otherwise called the 
 Laws of Nature. 
 
 Tbe first and second Natural Laws, and the subject of 
 contracts, take up Chap. XIV. First comes a definition of 
 Jus Natural e or Right of Nature — the liberty each man has 
 of using his own power, as he will himself, for the preser^^a- 
 tion of his own nature or life. Liberty properly means the 
 ab.^ence of external impediments ; now a man maj" externally be 
 hindered from doing all he would, but not from using what 
 power is left him, according to his best reason and judgment. 
 A Law of Nature, lex naturalir, is defined, a general rule.
 
 136 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HOBBES. 
 
 found out by reason, forbidding a man to do what directly oi 
 indirectly is destructive of his life, or to omit what he thinks 
 may best preserve it. Right and Law, tliough generally con- 
 founded, are exactly opposed, Right being liberty, and Law 
 obligation. 
 
 In the natural state of war, every man, being governed 
 by his own reason, has a right to everything, even to 
 another's body. But because thus no man's life is secure, he 
 finds the First and fundamental law of nature, or general rule 
 of reason, to be to seek i?eace and follotv it, if possible: fail- 
 ing which, we may defend ourselves by all the means we 
 can. Here the law being ' to endeavour peace,' from this follows 
 the Second law, that a man be willing, when others are so too, 
 as far forth as for peace and self-defence he shall think it 
 necessary, to lay doivn this right to all things ; and be con- 
 tented with so much liberty against other men as he would 
 allow other men against himself. This is the same as the 
 Gospel precept, Do to others, &c. 
 
 Laying down one's right to anything is divesting one's 
 self of the liberty of hindering another in the exercise of his 
 own original right to the same. The right is renounced^ 
 when a man cares not for whose benefit ; transferred, when 
 intended to benefit some certain person or persons. In either 
 case the man is obliged or hound not to hinder those, in whose 
 favour the right is abandoned, from the benefit of it ; it is his 
 duty not to make void his own voluntary act, and if he does, 
 it is injustice or injury, because he acts now sme Jure. Such 
 conduct Hobbes likens to an intellectual absurdity or self- 
 contradiction. Voluntary signs to be employed in abandon- 
 ing a right, are words and actions, separately or together ; 
 but in all bonds, the strength comes not from their own 
 nature, but from the fear of evil resulting from their rupture. 
 
 He concludes that not all rights are alienable, for the 
 reason that the abandonment, being a voluntary act, must 
 have for its object some good to ihe person that abandons his 
 right. A man, for instance, cannot lay down the right to 
 defend his life ; to use words or other signs for that purpose, 
 would be to despoil himself of the end — security of life and 
 person — for which those signs were intended. 
 
 Co7itract is the mutual transferring of right, and with this 
 idea he connects a great deal. First, he distinguishes trans- 
 ference of right to a thing, and transference of the thing 
 itself. A contract fulfilled by one party, but loft on trust to 
 be fulfilled by the other, is called the Covenant of this other,
 
 CONTRACT. — MERIT. 137 
 
 (a distinction he afterwards dro])s), and leaves room for the 
 keeping or violation of faith. To contract he opposes gijX 
 free-gift, or grace, where there is do mutual transference of 
 right, but one party transfers in the hope of gaiiiing friend- 
 ship or service from another, or the reputation of charity and 
 niagnaniraity, or deliverance from the merited pain of com- 
 passion, or reward in heaven. 
 
 There follow remarks on signs of contract, as either ex- 
 press or by inference, and a distinction between free-gift as 
 made by words of the present or past, and contract as made 
 by words past, present, or future ; wherefore, in contracts like 
 buying and selling, a promise amounts to a covenant, and is 
 obligatory. 
 
 The idea of Merit is thus explained. Of two contracting 
 parties, the one that has first performed merits what he is to 
 receive by the other's performance, or has it as clue. Even 
 the person that wins a prize, offered by free-gift to m.any, 
 merits it. But, whereas, in contract, I merit by virtue of my 
 own power and the other contractor's need, in the case of the 
 gift, I merit only by the benignity of the giver, and to the 
 extent that, when he has given it, it shall be mine rather than 
 another's. This distinction he believes to coincide with the 
 scholastic separation of meritum congrui and rneritum condigni. 
 
 He adds many more particulars in regard to covenants 
 made on mutual trust. They are void in the state of nature, 
 upon any reasonable suspicion ; but when there is a common 
 power to compel observance, and thus no more room for fear, 
 they are valid. Even when fear makes them invalid it must 
 have arisen after they were made, else it should have kept 
 them from being made. Transference of a right implies 
 transference, as far as may be, of the means to its enjoyment. 
 With beasts there is no covenant, because no proper mutual 
 understanding. With God also none, except through special 
 revelation or with his lieutenant in his name. Anything 
 vowed contrary to the law of nature is vowed in vain ; if the 
 thing vowed is commanded by the law of nature, the law, 
 not the vow, binds. Covenants are of things possible and 
 future. Men are freed from them by performance, or for- 
 giveness, which is restitution of liberty. tie pronounces 
 covenants extorted by fear to be binding alike in the state of 
 mere nature and in commonwealths, if once entered into. 
 A former covenant makes void a later. Any covenant not 
 to defend one's self from force by force is alwaj^s void ; 
 as said above, there is no transference possible of right to
 
 138 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— HOBBES. 
 
 defend one's self from death, wounds, iraprisonment, &c. So 
 no man is obliged to accuse himself, or generally to give tes- 
 timony where from the nature of the case it may be presumed 
 to be corrupted. Accusation upon torture is not to be reputed 
 as testimony. At the close he remarks upon oaths. He finds 
 in human nature two imaginable helps to strengthen the force 
 of words, otherwise too weak to insure tbe performance of 
 covenants. One of these — pride in appearing not to need to 
 break one's word, he supposes too rare to be presumed upon. 
 The other, fear, has reference either to power of spirits invisi- 
 ble, or of men. In the state of nature, it is the first kind of 
 fear — a man's religion — that keeps him to his promises. An 
 oath is therefore swearing to perform by the God a man fears. 
 But to the obligation itself it adds nothing. 
 
 Of the other Laws of Nature, treated in Chap. XV., the 
 third, ihat men perforin their covenants made, opens up the 
 discussion of Justice. Till rights have been transferred and 
 covenants made there is no justice or injustice ; injustice is no 
 other than the non-performance of covenants. Further, justice 
 (and also property) begins only where a regular coercive power 
 is constituted, because otherwise there is cause for fear, and 
 fear, as has been seen, makes covenants invalid. Even the 
 scholastic definition of justice recognizes as much ; for there 
 can be no constant will of giving to every man his own, when, 
 as in the state of nature, there is no own. He argues at 
 length against the idea that justice, i.e., the keeping of cove- 
 nants, is contrary to reason ; repelling three different argu- 
 ments. (1) He demonstrates that it cannot be reasonable to 
 break or keep covenants according to benefit supposed to be 
 gained in each case, because this would be a subversion of tbe 
 principles whereon society is founded, and must end by de- 
 priving the individual of its benefits, whereby he would be left 
 perfectly helpless. (2) He considers it frivolous to talk of 
 securing the happiness of heaven by any kind of injustice, 
 when there is but one possible way of attaining it, viz., the 
 keeping of covenants. (3) He warns men (he means his con- 
 temporaries) against resorting to the mode of injustice known 
 as rebellion to gain sovereignty, from the hopelessness of 
 gaining it and the uncertainty of keeping it. Hence he con- 
 cludes that justice is a rule of reason, the keeping of cove- 
 nants being the surest way to preserve our life, and therefore 
 a law of nature. He rejects the notion that laws of nature 
 are to be supposed conducive, not to the preservation of life 
 on earth, but to the attainment of eternal felicity ; whereto
 
 JUSTICE. 139 
 
 each breach of covenant as rebellion may sometimes be supposed 
 a means. For that, the knowledge of the future life is too un- 
 certain. Finally, he consistently holds that faith is to be kept 
 with heretics and with all that it has once been pledged to. 
 
 He goes on to distinguish between justice of men or 
 manners, and justice of actions ; whereby in the one case men 
 are just or righteous, and in the other, guiltless. After making 
 the common observation that single inconsistent acts do not 
 destroy a character for justice or injustice, he has this : ' That 
 which gives to human actions the relish of justice, is a certain 
 nobleness or gallantness of courage rarely found, by which a 
 man scorns to be beholden for the contentment of his life to 
 fraud, or breach of promise.' Then he shows the difference 
 between injustice, injury, and damage ; asserts that nothing 
 done to a man with his consent can be injury ; and, rejecting 
 the common mode of distinguishing between commutafive and 
 distributive justice, calls the first the justice of a con- 
 tractor, and the other an improper name for just distribution, 
 or the justice of an arbitrator, i.e., the act of defining what is 
 just — equivalent to equity, which is itself a law of nature. 
 
 The rest of the laws follow in swift succession. The 4th 
 recommends Gratitude, which depends on antecedent g-raee 
 instead of covenant. Free-gift being voluntary, i.e., done 
 with intention of good to one's self, there will be an end to 
 benevolence and mutual help, unless gratitude is given as 
 compensation. 
 
 The 5th enjoins Complaisance ; a disposition in men not 
 to seek superfluities that to others are necessaries. Such 
 men are sociable. 
 
 The 6th enjoins Parcloji upon repentance, with a view 
 (like the last) to peace. 
 
 The 7th enjoins that punishment is to be only for cor- 
 rection of the offender and direction of others ; i.e., for profit 
 and example, not for ' glorying in the hurt of another, tend- 
 ing to no end.' Against Grueltij. 
 
 The 8th is against Gnntumelij, as provocative of dispeace. 
 
 The 9th is against Pride, and enjoins the acknowledgment 
 of the equality of all men by nature. He is here very sarcastic 
 against Aristotle, and asserts, in opposition to him, that all 
 inequality of men arises from consent. 
 
 The 10th is, in like manner, against Arrogance, and in 
 favour of Modesty. Men, in entering into peace, are to resei've 
 no rights but such as they are willing shall be reserved by 
 others.
 
 14:0 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— HOBBES. 
 
 The 11th enjoins Equitij ; the disposition, in a man trusted 
 to judge, to distribute equally to each man what in reason 
 belongs to him. Partiality ' deters men from the use of judges 
 and arbitrators,' and is a cause of war. 
 
 The 12th enjoins the common, or the proportionable, use 
 of things that cannot be distributed. 
 
 The 18th enjoins the resort to lot, when separate or com- 
 mon enjoyment is not possible ; the 14th provides also for 
 natural lot, meaning first possession or primogeniture. 
 The 15th demands safe conduct for mediators. 
 The 16th requires that parties at controversy shall submit 
 their right to arbitration. 
 
 The 17th forbids a man to be his own judge; the 18th, 
 any interested person to be judge. 
 
 The 19th requires a resort to witnesses in a matter of fact, 
 as between two contending parties. 
 
 This list of the laws of nature is only slightly varied in the 
 other works. He enumerates none but those that concern 
 the doctrine of Civil Society, passing over things like Intem- 
 perance, that are also forbidden by the law of nature because 
 destructive of particular men. All the laws are summed up 
 in the one expression : Do not that to another, which thou 
 wouldest not have done to thyself. 
 
 The laws of nature he regards as always binding in foro 
 interno, to the extent of its being desired they should take 
 place; but in foro externo, only when there is security. As 
 binding in foro interno, they can be broken even by an act 
 according mth them, if the purpose of it was against them. 
 They are immutable and eternal ; ' injustice, ingratitude, &c,, 
 can never be made lawful,' for war cannot preserve life, nor 
 peace destroy it. Their fulfilment is easy, as requiring only 
 an unfeigned and constant endeavour. 
 
 Of these laws the science is true moral philosophy, i.e., the 
 science of good and evil in the society of mankind. Good 
 and evil vary much from man to man, and even in the same 
 man ; but while private appetite is the measure of good and 
 evil in the condition of nature, all allow that peace is good, 
 and that justice, gratitude, &c., as the way or means to peace, 
 are also good, that is to say, moraZ virtues. The true moral 
 philosophy, in regarding them as laws of nature, places their 
 goodness in their being the means of peaceable, comfortable, 
 and sociable living ; not, as is commonly done, in a mediocrity 
 of passions, ' as if not the cause, but the degree of daring, 
 made fortitude.'
 
 GENERAL SUMMARY. 141 
 
 His last remark is. that these dictates of reason are 
 improperly called laws, because ' law, properly, is the word 
 of him that by right hath command over others.' But when 
 considered not as mere conclusions or theorems concerning 
 the means of conservation and defence, but as delivered in 
 the word of God, that by right commands all, then they are 
 properly called laws. 
 
 Chapter XVI., closing the whole first part of the Leviathan, 
 is of Persons, Authors, and Things Personated. The defini- 
 tions and distinctions contained in it add nothing of direct 
 ethical importance to the foregoing, though needed for the 
 discussion of ' Commonwealth,' to which he passes. The 
 chief points under this second great head are taken into the 
 summary. 
 
 The views of Hobbes can be only inadequately summarized. 
 
 I. — The Standard, to men living in society, is the Law of 
 the State. This is Self-interest or individual Utility, masked 
 as regard for Established Order ; for, as he holds, under any 
 kind of government there is more Security and Commodity of 
 life than in the State of Nature. In the Natural Condition, 
 Self-interest, of course, is the Standard ; but not without re- 
 sponsibility to God, in case it is not sought, as far as other 
 men will allow, by the practice of the dictates of Reason or 
 laws of Nature. 
 
 II. — His Psychology of Ethics is to be studied in the detail. 
 Whether in the natural or in the social state, the Moral Faculty, 
 to correspond with the Standard, is the general power of Reason, 
 comprehending the aims of the Individual or Society, and 
 attending to the laws of Nature or the laws of the State, in 
 the one case or in the other respectively. 
 
 On the question of the Will, his views have been given at 
 length. 
 
 Disinterested Sentiment is, in origin, self- regarding ; for, 
 pitying others, we imagine the like calamity befalling our- 
 selves. In one place, he seems to say, that the Sentiment of 
 Power is also involved. It is the great defect of his system 
 that he takes so little account of the Social afiections, whether 
 natural or acquired. 
 
 III. — His Theory of Happiness, or the Summum Bonum. 
 would follow from his analysis of the Feelings and Will. But 
 Feliciny being a continual pi'ogress in desire, and consisting 
 less in present enjoyment than in assuring the way of future 
 desire, the chief element in it is the Sense of Power. 
 
 IV. — A Moral Code is minutely detailed under the name of
 
 142 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — CUMBEELA.ND. 
 
 Laws of Nature, in force in the Natural State under Divine 
 Sanction. It incalcates all the common virtues, and makes 
 little or no departure from the usually received maxims. 
 
 V. — The relation of Ethics to Politics is the closest imagin- 
 able. Not even Society, as commonly understood, but only 
 the established civil authority, is the source of rules of con- 
 duct. In the civil (which to Hobbes is the only meaning of 
 the social) state, the laws of nature are superseded, b}-- being 
 supposed taken np into, the laws of the Sovereign Power. 
 
 VI. — As regards Religion, he affirms the coincidence of his 
 reasoned deduction of the laws of Nature with the precepts of 
 Revelation. He makes a mild use of the sanctions of a Future 
 Life to enforce the laws of Nature, and to give additional 
 support to the commands of the sovereign that take the place 
 of these in the social state. 
 
 Among the numberless replies, called forth by the bold 
 speculations of Hobbes, were some works of independent 
 ethical importance ; in particular, the treatises of Cumberland, 
 Cttdworth, and Clarke. Cumberland stands by himself; Cud- 
 worth and Clarke, agreeing in some respects, are commonly- 
 called the Batio7ial moralists, along with Wollaston and Price 
 (who fall to be noticed later). 
 
 RICHARD CUMBERLAND. [1632-1718.] 
 
 Cumberland's Latin work, De Legibufi Naturce disquisitio 
 philosophica contra Hohhium instituta, appeared in 1672. The 
 book is important as a distinctly philosophical disquisition, 
 but its extraordinarily discursive character renders impossible 
 anything like analysis. His chief points will be presented in 
 a fuller summary than usual. 
 
 I. — The SxANDAFiD of Moral Good is given in the laws of 
 Nature, which may all be summed up in one great Law — 
 Benevolence to all rational agents^ or the endeavour to the 
 utmost of our power to promote the common good of all. His 
 theory is hardly to be distinguished from the Greatest Happi- 
 ness principle ; unless it might be represented as putting for- 
 ward still more prominently the search for Individual Happi- 
 ness, with a fixed assumption that this is best secured through 
 the promotion of the general good. No action, he declares, 
 can be called ' morally good that does not in its own nature 
 contribute somewhat to the happiness of men.' The speciality 
 of his view is his professing not to make an induction as 
 regards the character of actions from the observation of their 
 effects, but to deduce the propriety of (benevolent) actions
 
 PSYCHOLOGY OF ETHICS. 14.^ 
 
 from the consideration of the character and position of rational 
 agents in nature. Rules of conduct, all directed to the pro- 
 motion of the Happiness of rational agents, may thus be found 
 in the form of propositions impressed upon the mind by the 
 Nature of Things ; and these are then interpreted to be laws 
 of Nature (summed up in the one great Law), promulgated 
 by God with the natural effects of actious as Sanctions of 
 Reward and Punishment to enforce them. 
 
 II. — His Psychology of Ethics may be reduced to the fol- 
 lowing heads. 
 
 1. The Faculty is the Reason, apprehending the exact 
 Nature of Things, and detenniuing accordingly the modes of 
 action that are best suited to promote the happiness of 
 rational agents. 
 
 2. Of the Faculty, under the name of Cunscience, he gives 
 this description : ' The mind is conscious to itself of all its own 
 actions, and both can, and often does, observe what counsels pro- 
 duced them; it naturally sits a judge upon its own actions, and 
 thence procures to itself either tranquillity and joy, or anxiety 
 and sorrow.' The principal design of his whole book is to 
 show ' how this power of the mind, either by itself, or excited 
 by external objects, forms certain universal practical proposi- 
 tions, which give us a more distinct idea of the happiness of 
 mankind, and pronounces by what actions of ours, in all 
 variety of circumstances, that happiness may most effect- 
 ually be obtained.' [Conscience is thus only Reason, or the 
 knowing faculty in general, as specially concerned about 
 actions in their effect upon happiness; it rarely takes the 
 place of the more general term.] 
 
 3. He expressly leaves aside the supposition that we have 
 innate ideas of the laws of Nature whereby conduct is to be 
 guided, or of the matters that they are conversant about. 
 He has not, he says, been so happy as to learn the laws of 
 Nature by so short a way, and thinks it ill-advised to build 
 the doctrine of natural religion and morality upon a hypothesis 
 that has been rejected by the generality of philosophers, as 
 well heathen as Christian, and can never be proved ag:ainst 
 the Epicureans, with whom lies his chief controversy. Yet he 
 declines to oppose the doctrine of innate ideas, because it looks 
 with a friendly eye upon piety and morality ; and perhaps it 
 may be the case, that such ideas are both born with ns and 
 afterwards impressed upon us from without. 
 
 4. Will, he defines as 'the consent of the mind with the 
 judgment of the understanding, concerning things agreeiug
 
 144 ETHICM. SYSTEMS — CUMBEKLAND. 
 
 among tliem selves.' Althougli, therefore, he supposes that 
 nothing but Good and Evil can determine the will, and that 
 the will is even neces.^arlly determined to seek the one and 
 flee the other, he escapes the conclusion that the will is moved 
 only by private good, by accepting the implication of private 
 with common good as the fixed judgment of the understand- 
 ing or right reason. 
 
 5. He argues against the resolution of all Benevolence 
 into self-seeking, and thus claims for man a principle of dis- 
 interested action. But what he is far more concerned to prove 
 is, that benevolence of all to all accords best with the whole 
 frame of nature, stands forth with perfect evidence, upon a 
 rational apprehension of the universe, as the great Law of 
 Nature, and is the most effectual means of promoting tlie 
 bappiness of individuals, viz., through the happiness of all. 
 
 III. — Happiness is given as connected with the most full 
 and constant exercise of all our powers, about the best and 
 greatest objects and effects that are adequate and proportional 
 to them ; as consisting in the enlargement or perfection of the 
 faculties of any one thing or several. Here, and in his protest 
 against Hobbes's taking affection and desire, instead of 
 Reason, as the measure of the goodness of things, may be 
 seen in what way he passes from the conception of Individual, 
 to the notion of Common Good, as the end of action. Reason 
 affirms the common good to be more essentially connected 
 with the perfection of man than any pursuit of private advan- 
 tage. Still there is no disposition in him to sacrifice private 
 to the common good: he declares that no man is called on to 
 promote the common good beyond his ability, and attaches no 
 meaning to the general good beyond the special good oiall the 
 particular rational agents in their respective places, from God 
 (to whom he ventures to ascribe a Tranquillity, Joy, or Compla- 
 cency) downwards. The happiness of men he considers as In- 
 ternal, arising immediately from the vigorous exercise of the 
 faculties about their proper and noblest objects ; and External, 
 the mediate advantages procurable from God and men by a 
 course of benevolent action. 
 
 IV. — His Moral Code is arrived at by a somewhat elabo- 
 rate deduction from the great Law of Nature enjoining Benevo- 
 lence or Promotion of the Common Good of all rational beings. 
 
 This Common Good comprehends the Honour of God, and 
 the Good or Happiness of Men, as Nations, Families, and 
 Individuals. 
 
 The actions that promote this Common Good, are Acts
 
 MOKAL CODE. 145 
 
 either of tlie tinderstandiug, or of the will and affections, or of 
 the body as determined by the will. From this he finds that 
 Prudence (includino: Constancy of Mind and Moderation) is 
 enjoined in the Understanding, and, in the Will, Universal 
 Benevolence (making, with Prndence, Equifj/), Government of 
 the Passions, and the Special Laws of Nature — Innocence, Self- 
 denial, Gratitude, ^^c. 
 
 This he gets from the consideration of what is contained 
 in the general Law of Nature. But the obligation to the 
 various moral virtues does not appear, until he has shown that 
 the Law of Nature, for procuring the Common Happiness of 
 all, suggests a natural law of Univet dal Justice, commanding to 
 make and preserve a division of Rights, i.e., giving to particular 
 persons Property or Dominion over things and persons neces- 
 sary to their Happiness. There are thus Rights of God (to 
 Honour, Glory, &c.) and Rights of Men (to have those advan- 
 tages continued to them whereby they may preserve and per- 
 fect themselves, and be useful to all others). 
 
 For the same reason that Eights of particular persons 
 are fixed and preserved, viz., that the common good of all 
 should be promoted by every one, — two Obligations are laid 
 upon all. 
 
 ( 1 ) Of Gevixg : We are to contribute to others such a share 
 of the things committed to our trust, as may not destroy the 
 part that is necessary to our own happiness. Hence are obli- 
 gatory the virtues {a) in regard to Gifts, Liberality, Generosity, 
 Compassion, &c.; (b) in regard to Common Conversation or 
 Intercourse, Gravity and Courteousness, Veracity, Faith, 
 Urbanity, &o. 
 
 (2) Of Receiving: We are to reserve to ourselves such 
 use of our own, as may be most advantageous to, or at least 
 consistent with, the good of others. Hence the obligation oi 
 the virtues pertaining to the various branches of a limited 
 Self- Love, {a) with regard to our essential parts, viz., 
 Mind and Body — Temperance in the natural desires concerned 
 in the preservation of the individual and the species ; (b) with 
 regard to goods of fortune — Modesty, Humility, and Mag- 
 nanimity. 
 
 Y. — He connects Politics with Ethics, by finding, in the 
 establishment of civil government, a more effectual means of 
 promoting the common happiness according to the Law of 
 Nature, than in any equal division of things. But the Law 
 of Nature, he declares, being before the civil laws, and con- 
 taining the ground of their obligation, can never be superseded
 
 146 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — CUDWOllTH. 
 
 by these. Practically, however, the difference between him 
 and Hobbes comes to very lifctle ; he recognizes no kind of 
 earthly check upon the action of the civil power. 
 
 VI. — With reference to Reh'gion, he professes to abstain 
 entirely from theological questions, and does abstain from 
 mixing up the doctrines of Revelation. But he attaches a 
 distinctly divine authority to his moral rules, and supplements 
 earthly by supernatural sanctions. 
 
 EALPH CUDWORTH. [1617-88.] 
 
 Cudworth's Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Mo- 
 rality, did not appear until 1731, more than forty years after 
 his death. Having in a former work ('Intellectual system 
 of the Universe') contended against the ' Atheistical Fate ' of 
 Epicurus and others, he here attacks the ' Theologick Fate' 
 (the arbitrarily omnipotent Deity) of Hobbes, charging him 
 with reviving exploded opinions of Protagoras and the ancient 
 Greeks, that take away the essential and eternal discrimination 
 of moral good and evil, of just and unjast. 
 
 After piling up, out of the store of his classical and 
 scholastic erudition, a great mass of testimony regarding all 
 who had ever founded distinctions of Right and Wrong upon 
 mere arbitrary disposition, whether of God or the State of men 
 in general, he shadows forth his own view. Moral Good and 
 Evil, Just and Unjust, Honest and Dishonest (if they be not 
 mere names without any signification, or names for nothing 
 else but Willed or Commanded, but have a reality in respect of 
 the persons obliged to do and to avoid them), cannot possibly 
 be arbitrary things, made by Will without nature; because 
 it is universally true that Things are what they are not by 
 Will, but by nature. As it is the nature of a triangle to have 
 three angles equal to two right angles, so it is the nature of 
 'good things' to have the nature of goodness, and things just 
 tbe nature of justice ; and Omnipotence is no more able to 
 make a thing good without the fixed nature of goodness, than 
 to make a triangular body without the properties of a triangle, 
 or two things like or equal, without the natures of Likeness 
 and Equality. The Will of God is the supreme efficient cause 
 of all things, but not the formal cause of anything besides 
 itself. Nor is this to be understood as at all derogating from 
 God's perfection; to make natural justice and right indepen- 
 dent of his will is merely to set his Wisdom, which is a rule 
 or measure, above his Will, which is something indeterminate, 
 but essentially regulable and measureable ; and if it be the
 
 ETEUNAL AND IMMUTABLE VERITIES. 147 
 
 case that above even his wisdom, and determining it in tnrn, 
 stands his Infinite Goodness, tlie greatest perrection of bis 
 will must lie in its being thus twive determined. 
 
 By far the largest part of Cudvvorth's treatise consists of 
 a general metaphysical argument to establish the indepen- 
 dence of the mind's faculty of Knowledge, with reference to 
 Sense and Experience. In Sense, according to the doctrine 
 of the old 'Atomical philosophy' (of Democritus, Protagoras, 
 &c. — but he thinks it must be referred back to Moses himself !), 
 he sees nothing but fancies excited in us by local motions in 
 the organs, taken on from ' the motion of particles ' that con- 
 stitute ' the whole world.' All the more, therefore, must there 
 exist a superior power of Intellection and Knowledge of a 
 different nature from sense, a power not terminating in mere 
 seeming and appearance only, but in the reality of things, and 
 reaching to the comprehension of what really and abso- 
 lutely is ; whose objects are the immutable and eternal essences 
 and natures of things, and their unchangeable relations to one 
 another. These Bationes or Verities of things are intelligible 
 only ; are all comprehended in the eternal mind or intellect of 
 the Deity, and from Him derived to our ' particular intellects.' 
 They are neither arbitrar}'- nor phantastical — neither alterable 
 by Will nor changeable by Opinion. 
 
 Such eternal and immutable Verities, then, the moral dis- 
 tinctions of Good and Evil are, in the pauses of the general 
 argument, declared to be. They, ' as they must have some 
 cet'tain natures which are the actions or souls of men,' are 
 unalterable by Will or Opinion. * Modifications of Mind and 
 Intellect,' they are as much more real and substantial things 
 than Hard, Soft, Hot, and Cold, modifications of mere sense- 
 less matter — and even so, on the principles of the atomical 
 philosophy, dependent on the soul for their existence — as Mind 
 itself stands prior in the order of nature to Matter. In the 
 mind they are as 'anticipations of morality' springing up, not 
 indeed 'from certain rules or proposiDions arbitrarily printed 
 on the soul as on a book,' but from some more inw^ard and 
 vital Principle in intellectual beings, as such whereby these 
 have within themselves a natural determination to do some 
 things and to avoid others. 
 
 The only other ethical determinations made by Cudworth 
 may thus be summarized: — Things called naturally Good and 
 Due are such as the intellectual nature obliges to immediately, 
 absolutely, and perpetually, and upon no condition of any 
 voluntary^ action done or omitted intervening; things posU
 
 148 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — CLARKE. 
 
 tively Good and Due are such as are in themselves indifferent, 
 but the intellectual nature oblio^es to them accidentally or 
 liypothetically, upon condition, in the case of a command, 
 of some voluntary act of another person invested with lawful 
 authority, or of one's self, in the case of a specific promise. 
 In a positive command (as of the civil ruler), what obliges is 
 only the intellectual nature of him that is commanded, in that 
 he recognizes the lawful authority of him that commands, and 
 so far determines and modifies his ge^ioral duty of obedience 
 as to do an action immaterial in itself for the sake of the for- 
 mality of yielding obedience to lawfully constituted authority. 
 So, in like manner, a specific promise, in itself immaterial and 
 not enjoined by natural justice, is to be k,ept for the sake of 
 the formality of keeping faith, which is enjoined. 
 
 Cudworth's work, in which these are nearly all the ethical 
 allusions, gives no scope for a summary under the various 
 topics. 
 
 I. — Specially excluding any such External Standard of 
 moral Good as the arbitrary Will, either of God or the Sove- 
 reign, he views it as a simple ultimate natural quality of 
 actions or dispositions, as included among the verities of 
 things, by the side of which the phenomena of Sense are 
 unreal. 
 
 II. — The general Intellectual FacuU^- cognizes the moral 
 verities, vrhich it contains within itself aiiu. brings rather than 
 finds. 
 
 III. — He does not touch upon Happiness ; probably he 
 would lean to asceticism. He sets up no moral code. 
 
 IV. — Obligation to the Positive Civil Laws in matters in- 
 different follows from the intellectual recognition of the esta- 
 blished relation between ruler and subject. 
 
 V. — Morality is not dependent upon the Deity in any 
 other sense than the whole frame of things is. 
 
 SAMUEL CLAEKE. [1675-1729.] 
 
 Clarke put together his two series of Boyle Lectures 
 (preached 1704 and 1705) as 'A Discourse, concerning the 
 Being and Attributes of God, the Obligations of Natural 
 Religion and the Truth and Certainty of the Christian 
 Revelation,' in answer to Hobbes, Spinoza, &c. The burden 
 of the ethical discussion falls under the head of the Obligationa 
 of Natural Religion, in the second series. 
 
 He enounces this all-comprehensive proposition : * The 
 same necessary and eternal different Relations that different
 
 FITNESSES AND UNFITNESSES OF THINGS. 149 
 
 Things bear one to another, and the same consequent Fitness 
 or Unfitness of the application of different things or different 
 relations one to another, wich regard to which the will of God 
 always and necessarily does determine itself to choose to act 
 only what is agreeable to Justice, Equity, Goodness, and 
 Truth, in order to the welfare of the whole universe — ought 
 likewise constantly to determine the Wills of all sub )rdinate 
 rational beings, to govern all their actions by the same rules, 
 for the good of the public, in their respective stations. That 
 is, these eternal and necessary differences of things make it 
 fit and reasonable for creatures so to act ; they cause it to be 
 their duty, or lay an obligation on them so to do ; even sepa- 
 rate from the consideration of these Kules being the positive 
 Will or Command of God, and also antecedent to any respect 
 or regard, expectation or apprehension of any particular pri- 
 vate and personal Advantage or Disadvantage, Reward or 
 Punishment, either present or future, annexed either by 
 natural consequence, or by positive appointment, to the prac- 
 tising or neglecting of these rules.' In the explication of this, 
 nearly his whole system is contained. 
 
 His first concern is to impress the fact that there are 
 necessary and eternal differences of all things, and implied or 
 consequent relations (proportions or disproportions) existing 
 amongst them ; and to bring under this general head the 
 special case of differences of Persons {e.g., God and Man, Man 
 and Fellow-man), for the sake of the implication that to 
 different persons there belong peculiar Fitnesses and Unfit nesses 
 of circumstances ; or, which is the same thing, that there 
 arises necessarily amongst them a suitableness or unsuitable- 
 ness of certain manners of Behaviour. The counter-proposi- 
 tion that he contends against is, that the relations among 
 persons depend upon ijositive constitution of some kind, instead 
 of being founded unchangeably in tlie nature and reason of 
 things. 
 
 Next he shows how, in the rational or intellectual recogni- 
 tion of naturally existent relations amongst things (he always 
 Tneans persons chiefly), there is contained an obligation. 
 When God, in his Omniscience and absolute freedom from 
 error, is found determining his Will always according to this 
 eternal reason of things, it is very unreasonable and blame- 
 worthy in the intelligent creatures whom he has made so far 
 like himself, not to govern their actions by the same eternal 
 rule of Rea'^on, but to suffer themselves to depart from it 
 through negligent misunderstanding or wilful passion. Herein
 
 150 ETHICAL SYSTEMS CLARKE. 
 
 lies obligation : a man ought to act according to tlie Law of 
 lieason, because he can as little refrain from assenting to the 
 reasonableness and fitness of guiding his actions by it, as refuse 
 bis assent to a geometrical demonstration when he under- 
 stands the terms. The original obligation of all is the eternal 
 Ileason of Things ; the sanction of Rewards and Punishments 
 (thongh ' truly the most effectual means of keeping creatures 
 in their duty') is only a secondary and additional obligation. 
 Proof of his position he finds in men's judgment of their own 
 actions, better still in their judgments of others' actions, besfc 
 of all in their judgment of injuries inflicted on themselves. 
 Nor does any objection hold from the ignorance of savages in 
 matters of morality : they are equally ignorant of the plainest 
 mathematical truths ; the need of instruction does not take 
 away the necessary difference of moral Good and Evil, any 
 more than it takes away the necessary proportions of numbers. 
 
 He, then, instead of deducing all our several duties as he 
 might, contents himself with mentioning the three great 
 branches of them, (a) Duties in respect of God, consisting 
 of sentiments and acts (Veneration, Love, Worship, &c.) called 
 forth by the consideration of his attributes, and having a cha- 
 racter of Fitness far beyond any than is visible in applying 
 e(iual geometrical figures to one another, {h) Duties in respect 
 of our Fellow-creatures: (1) Justice and Equity, the doing as 
 we would be done by. Iniquity is the very same in Action, 
 as Falsity or Contradiction in Theory ; what makes the one 
 absurd makes the other unreasotiable ; 'it would be impossible 
 for men not to be as much (!) ashamed of doing Iniquity ^ as 
 they are of helieving Contradictions ;' (2) Universal Love or 
 Benevolence, the promoting the welfare or happiness of all, 
 which is obligatory on various grounds : the Good being the 
 fit and reasonable, the greatest Good is the most fit and reason- 
 able ; by this God's action is determined, and so ought ours; 
 no Duty affords a more ample pleasure ; besides havmg a 
 * certain natural affection ' for those most closelj'" connected 
 with us, we desire to multiply affinities, which means to found 
 society, for the sake of the more comfortable life that mutual 
 good offices bring. [This is a very confused deduction of an 
 obligation.'] (c) Duties in respect to our Selves, viz., self- 
 preservation, teni-perance, contentmerd, &c.; for not being authors 
 of our being, we have no just power or authority to take it 
 away directly, or, by abuse of our faculties, indirectly. 
 
 After expatiating in a rhetorical strain on the eternal, 
 universal, and absolutely unchangeable character of the law
 
 MORALITY INDEPENDENT OF THE DEITY. 151 
 
 of Nature or Right Reason, be specifies the sense wherein 
 the eternal moral obligations are independent of the will of 
 God himself; it comes to this, that, although God makes all 
 things and the relations between them, noticing is holy and 
 good because he commands it, but he commands it because it 
 is holy and good. Finally, he expounds tlie relation of Reward 
 and Punishment to the law of Nature ; the obligation of it is 
 before and distinct from these; but, while full of admiration 
 for the Stoical idea of the self-sufficiency of virtue, he is 
 constrained to add that 'men never will generally, and indeed 
 'tis mot ver}'- reasonably to be expected they should, part with 
 all the comforts of life, and even life itself, without any expecta- 
 tion of a future recompense.' The * manifold absurdities' of 
 Hobbes being first exposed, he accordingly returns, in pur- 
 suance of the theological argument of his Lectures, to show 
 that the eternal moral obligations, founded on the natural 
 differences of things, are at the same time the express will and 
 command of God to all rational creatures, and must neces- 
 sarily and certainly be attended with Rewards and Punish- 
 ments in a future state. 
 
 The summary of Clarke's views might stand thus : — 
 
 I. — The Standard is a certain Fitness of action between 
 persons, implicated in their nature as much as any fixed 
 proportions between numbers or other relation among things. 
 Except in such an expression as this, moral good admits of no 
 kmd of external reference. 
 
 II. — There is very little Psychology involved. The 
 Faculty is the Reason ; its action a case of mere intellectual 
 apprehension. The element of Feeling is nearly excluded. 
 Disinterested sentiment is so minor a point as to call forth 
 only the passing allusion to ' a certain natural affection.' 
 
 III. — Happiness is not considered except in a vague refer- 
 ence to good public and private as involved with Fit and 
 Unfit action. 
 
 IV. — His account of Duties is remarkable only for the con- 
 sistency of his attempt to find parallels for each amongst 
 intellectual relations. The climax intended in the assimila- 
 tion of Injustice to Contradictions is a very anti-climax ; if 
 people were only ^ as much' ashamed of doing injustice as of 
 believing contradictions, the moral order of the world would 
 be poorly provided for. 
 
 V. — The relation of Ethics to Politics is hardly touched. 
 Society is born of the desire to multiply affinities through 
 mutual interchange of good offices.
 
 152 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — LOCKE. 
 
 VI. — His Ethical disquisition is only part of a Theolo^cal 
 argument; and this helps to explain his assertion of the Inde- 
 pendence as well as of the Insafficiency of Morality. The 
 tinal outcome of the discussion is that Morality needs the 
 support of Revelation. But, to get from tliis an argument for 
 the truth of Revelation, it is necessary that morality should 
 have an independent foundation in the nature of things, apart 
 from any direct divine appointment. 
 
 William Wollaston (1659-1724), author of the ' Religion 
 of Nature Delineated,' is usually put into the same class of 
 moralists with Clarke. With him, a had action (whether of 
 commission or omission) contains the denial of a true pro- 
 position. Truth can be denied by actions as well as by words. 
 Thus, the violation of a contract is the denial by an action 
 that the contract has been concluded. Robbing a traveller 
 is the denial that what you take from him is his. An action 
 that denies one or more true propositions cannot be good, 
 and is necessarily bad. A good action is one whose omission 
 would be bad or whose contrary is bad, in the above sense. 
 An indiferent action is one that can be omitted or done with- 
 out contradicting any truth. Reason, the judge of what is 
 true and false, is the only faculty concerned ; but, at the same 
 time, Wollaston makes large reference to the subject of Hap- 
 piness, finding it to consist in an excess of pleasures as com- 
 pared with pains. He holds that his doctrine is in conformity 
 with all the facts. It affirms a progressive morality, that 
 keeps pace with and depend upon the progress of Science. 
 It can explain errors in morals as distinct from vice. An 
 error is the affirmation by an action of a false proposition, 
 thought to be true ; the action is bad, but the agent is 
 innocent. 
 
 JOHN LOCKE. [1632-1704.] 
 
 Locke did not apply himself to the consecutive evolution 
 of an Ethical theory; whence his views, although on the 
 whole sufficiently unmistakeable, are not always reconcileable 
 with one another. 
 
 In Book I. of the * Essay on the Understanding' he devotes 
 himself to the refutation of Innate Ideas, whether Speculative 
 or Practical. Chap. III. is on the alleged Innate Practical 
 Principles, or rules of Right and Wrong. The objections 
 urged against these Principles have scarcely been added to, 
 and have never been answered. We shall endeavour to indi- 
 cate the heads of the reasoning.
 
 OBJECTIONS TO INNATE PRACTICAL PKINCIPLES, 153 
 
 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 v^hose innate origin 
 is also disputed. They require reasoning and explanation in 
 order to be understood. jNIany 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 wos^ 
 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 
 ejTectually 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 cor- 
 responding 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 Y 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 Chn'stian 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.
 
 154 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— LOCKE. 
 
 Bonnd 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 qaite 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 com- 
 mended 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 im- 
 printed by nature, it is the rule that Parents should preserve
 
 MORALITY TOO COMPLEX TO BE INNATE. 155 
 
 and cherish their children. If such a principle be innate, it 
 must be found regulating practice everywhere ; or, at ijie 
 lowest, it must be known and assented to. But it is very far 
 from having been uniformly practised, even among en- 
 lightened 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 state- 
 ment, ' it is the duty of parents to preserve their children,' 
 cannot be understood without a Law ; a Law requires a Law- 
 maker, and Reward or Panishment. 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, Panishment, 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.* Yet, if these were imprinted 
 
 * Locke examines the Innate Principles put forth by Lord Herbert 
 in his book De Veritate, 1st, There is a supreme governor of the world; 
 2nd,"Worship is due to him; 3rd, Virtue, joined with Piety, is the best 
 Worship; 4th, Men must repent of their sins; 5th, There will be a 
 future life of rewards and punishments. Locke admits these to be such 
 truths as a rational creature, after due explanation given them, can hardly 
 avoid attending to; but he will not allow th ui Lu be innate. For, 
 
 First, There are other propositions with as good a claim as these to 
 be of the number imprinted by nature on the mind. 
 
 Secondly, The marks assigned are not found in all the propositions. 
 Many men, and even whole nations, disbelieve some of them. 
 
 Then, as to the third principle, — virtue, joined with piety, is the best 
 ■worship of God ; he cannot see how it can be innate, seeing that it con- 
 tains a name, virtue, of the greatest possible uncertainty of meaning. 
 For, if virtue be taken, as commonly it is, to denote the actions accounted 
 laudable in particular countries, then the proposition will be untrue. Or, 
 if it is taken to mean accordance with God's will, it will then be true, 
 but unmeaning ; that God will be pleased with what he commands is an 
 identical assertion, of no use to any one. 
 
 So the fourth proposition, — men must repent of their sins, — is open to 
 the same remark. It is not possible that God should ena:rave on men'9 
 minds principles couched on such uncertain words as Virtue and Sin. 
 Nay more, as a general word is nothing in itself, but only report as to 
 particular facts, the knowledge of rules is a knowledge of a sufficient 
 number of actions to determine the rule. [Innate principles are not com- 
 patible with Nominalism.] 
 
 According to Lord Herbert, the standard of virtue is the common 
 notions in which all men agree. They are such as the following, — to avoid 
 evil, to be temperate, in doubtful cases to choose the safer course, not to 
 do to others what you would not wish done to yourself, to be grateful to
 
 166 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — LOCKE. 
 
 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 
 (vould 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 impos- 
 sible that they should be all true. Yet it will often happen 
 that these men will sooncir part with their lives, than suffer 
 the truth of their opinions to be questioned. 
 
 We can see from our experience how the belief in prin- 
 ciples 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 proposi- 
 tions 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 
 
 benefactors, &c. Conscience is what teaches us to carry out those prin- 
 ciples in practice. It excites joy over good actions, and produces ab- 
 horrence and repentance for bad. Upon it, our repentance of mind and 
 eternal welfare depend. (For an account of Lord Herbert's common 
 notions, see Appendix B., Lord Herbert of Cherbury.J
 
 MORALITY SUPPOSES LAW. 157 
 
 means of obtaining them but on trust from others. Custom is 
 a 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 
 matui-e 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 IL, Chap. XXL, Locke discusses the freedom of 
 the wdll, with some allusions to the natm^e of happiness and 
 the causes of wrong conduct. Happiness is the utmost plea- 
 sure we are capable of, misery the utmost pain; pleasure and 
 pain define Good and Evil. In practice, we are chiefly occu- 
 pied 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 Tew degrees of pleasure in a suc- 
 cession 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. XXVIIL 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
 
 158 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — LOCKE. 
 
 moral rectitude. 2nd, The Civil Law, or tlie 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 disap- 
 proving 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. 
 
 Morahty 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 en- 
 joined by these authorities, compares any given action with 
 these rules, and pronounces accordingly. A rule is an aggre- 
 gate 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 Stfhidard 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 ('!), 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 pro- 
 nounces no definite opinion. He makes few attempts to 
 analyze the emotional and active part of our nature. 
 
 III. — His Sum mum Bonum is stated generally as the pro- 
 curing of Pleasure and the avoiding of Pain.
 
 CHAKACTEKISTICS OF THE MOKAL PERCEPTIONS. 159 
 
 rV. — He lias no peculiar views on the Moral Code, or on 
 the enforcements of Morality. 
 
 V. — The connexion of Ethics with Politics is, in him, tho 
 assimilating of Morality to Law. 
 
 VI. — VVith relerence to Theology, he considers that, by 
 the exercise of the Reason, we may discover the existence and 
 attributes of God, and our daties to iiim ; his ascertained will 
 is the highest moral rule, the true touchstone of Moral Jiecti- 
 tude. 
 
 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 
 (XI.) 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 punish- 
 ments.' 
 
 The Dissertation on Virtue is intended to vindicate, iu 
 man, the existence of a moral nature, apart from both Pru- 
 dence and Benevolence. 
 
 A moral government supposes a moral nature in man, op 
 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 voluntaiy 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 capaci- 
 ties of the agent. Fourthly, Prudence, or regard to ourselves, 
 is a fair subject of moral approbation, and imprudence of the 
 contrary. Our o^ti self-interest seems to require strengthen- 
 ing 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*). This is shown by the fact that 
 
 * In this respect, Butler diifers from both Shaftesbury and Hutcheson. 
 With Shaltesbury, the main function of the moral sense is to smile ap- 
 proval en benevolent affections, by which an additional pleasure is thrown 
 into the scale against the selfish affections. The superiority of the
 
 160 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BUTLER. 
 
 our approbation is not in proportion to the amount of happi- 
 ness flowing from an action [he means iimyiediafely flowing, 
 which does not decide the question]. We disapprove of false- 
 hood, 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 consequ(3nce3 
 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 diflerent 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.* 
 
 The existence of pure or disinterested Benevolence is 
 proved by such facts, as Friendship, Compassion, Parental and 
 Filial afiections. 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 afiection and its pleasures are merely a form of the 
 love of Povver. 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 Batler's 
 
 * natural affections' thus depends on a double pleasure, their intrinsically 
 pleasureable character, and the superadded pleasure of reflection. The 
 lendency of Shaftesbury is here to make benevolence and virtue identical, 
 and at the same time to impair the disinterested character of benevo- 
 lence. 
 
 * With this view, we may compare the psycholoj^y of Shaftes- 
 bury, set forth in his 'Characteristics of Men, Manners, and Times.' 
 The soul has two kinds of aff'ections — (1) Uif-afedioi,, leading to the 
 
 * good of the private,' such as love of life, revenge, pleasure or ap itude 
 towards nourishment and the means of generation, emulation or love of 
 praise, indolence ; and (2) Natural affections, leading to the good of the 
 public. The natural or spontaneous predominance of benevolence is 
 goodness ; the subjection, of the selfish by effort and training is virtue. 
 Virtue consists generally in the proper exercise of the several affections.
 
 WELL-BEING NOT THE END OF APPETITa 161 
 
 Psycbologj, although he was not the first to announce it. The 
 scheme of the human feelings comp:ehends, in addition to 
 Benevolence and Self-Love, a number o> passions and a,ffections 
 tending to the same ends as these (some to tlie 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, bat in obeying its 
 dictates we are not thinking of that object, bat of the procur- 
 ing of food. Curiosity promotes both pablio 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 iutermedlate ends. So the desire of know- 
 ledge 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 there- 
 fore 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 plea- 
 sure 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 
 Betting forth of Conscience,* which is called a ' principle of 
 
 * Butler's definition of conscience, and his whole treatment of it, have 
 created a great puzzle of classification, as to whether he is to be placed 
 along with the upholders of a 'moral sense.' Shjiftesbury is more ex- 
 plicit : ' No sooner does the eye open upon figures, the ear to sounds, 
 than straight the Beautiful results, and grace and harmony are known 
 and acknowledged. No sooner are actions viewed, no sooner tfie human 
 affections discerned (and they are, most of them, as soon discerned as 
 felt), than straight an inward eye distinguishes the fair and shapely, the 
 amiable and admirable, apart from the deformed, the foul, the odious, or the
 
 162 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BUTLER. 
 
 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 con- 
 scious of aiming at the good of society. A father has an 
 afiection 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 afiection; which prin- 
 ciple mast therefore be difierent from mere afl'ection. 
 
 Butler's analysis of the human feelings is thus : I. — Bene- 
 volence and Self-love. II. — The particular Appetites, Passions, 
 and Affections, operating in the same direction as Benevolence 
 and Self-love, but without intending it. HI. — 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 re- 
 marks 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 in- 
 justice 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 11. , 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 difiiculties 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 
 
 despicable.'' ' In a creature capable of forming general notions of things, 
 not only the outward beings which offer themselves to the sense, are the 
 objects of the affections, but the very actions themselves, and the affec- 
 tions of pity, kindness, and gratitude, and their contraries, being brought 
 into the mind by relit ction, become objects. So that, by means of this 
 itJJeeted sense, there arises another kind of affection towards these affec- 
 tions themselves, which have been already telt, and are now become the 
 subject of a new liking or dislike.' What this * moral sense' approves is 
 benevolence, and when its approval has been acted upon, by subjecting 
 the selfish affections, ' virtue ' is attained.
 
 SUPREMACY OF CONSCIENCE. 163 
 
 being two otlier parts, namely, (1) Benevoleuoe 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 ; angor 
 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 cha- 
 racters. In this sense, vice may be natural. 
 
 Bat, thirdly, we may reclaim against thosa two meanings, 
 and that on the authority both of the Apostle Paul and of the 
 ancient sages, and declare that the proper meaning of follow- 
 ing 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 be 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 gra- 
 tification, 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. 
 
 AVe 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 propen- 
 sities in union with this ruling principle ; and as, in civil 
 government, the constitution is infringed by strength pre- 
 vailing 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 ita
 
 164: ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BUTLER. 
 
 authority with it; it is the guide assigned bj the Author of 
 our nature. 
 
 He then replies to the question. ' Why should we be con- 
 cerned about anything out of or beyond ourselves ?' Suppos- 
 ing 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 pre- 
 scribed 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 Pas- 
 sions, 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 circum- 
 stances of each, although of course involving the common 
 elements of the mind. 
 
 In his Sermons on Compassion (V., YI.), he treats this as 
 one of the Affections in his second group of the Feelings 
 (Appetites, Passions, and Aff'ections) ; 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 ia 
 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 diff'erent ages, 
 and that the peculiarity of his own age is ' to profess a con- 
 tracted 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 f<xvourite j^asslon. 
 
 His mode of arguing is still the same as in the sermons on
 
 CONNEXION OF BENEVOLENCE WITH HAPPINESS. 165 
 
 Hurnan Nature. Self-love does not compreliend our whole 
 being ; it is only one principle among many. It is characterized 
 by a suhjedive end, the j'eelhig 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. 
 I'be total happiness of onr 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 neces- 
 sary to enjoyment, and the intensity of pursuit interferes with 
 this. [This is a true remark, but misapplied ; external pur- 
 suit 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 hap- 
 piness. 
 
 Such is his reasoning, grounded on his peculiar Psycho- 
 logy. 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 
 regai'd to the welfare of others. We have seen that this is a 
 Ttiere stroke of ingenuity, and owes its plausible appearance 
 to his making our associated ends the primary ends of our 
 being. 
 
 in. — With regard to the Snmmum Bonum, or the theory 
 of Happiness, he holds that men cannot be happy by the pur- 
 suit of mere self; but must give way to their benevolent im- 
 pulses as well, all under the guidance of conscience. In short,
 
 166 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 
 
 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 fiict 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 Pas- 
 sions,' and his posthumous work, ' A System of Moral Philo- 
 sophy.' 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 Na- 
 ture 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 coui'se 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 happi- 
 ness, 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, intro- 
 ducing to the niiud perceptions of pleasure and pain, which 
 becoming forthwith tlie object of desire and aversion, are 
 our first notions of natural good and evil. Next to Ideaa 
 of Sensation, we acquire Concomitant ideas of Sensation from
 
 PRIMARY FEELINGS. 167 
 
 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 reasojiing 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 con- 
 nexion 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 hap- 
 pens) the good of others is pursued. Two calm natural de- 
 terminations of the will are to be conceded ; the one an inva- 
 riable 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 hap- 
 piness interferes with our own. There are also turbulent 
 passions and appetites, whose end is their simple gratifica- 
 tion ; whereupon the violence and uneasiness cease. Some 
 are selfish — hunger, lust, power, fame; some benevolent — pity, 
 gratitude, parental aftection, &c. ; others may be of either 
 kind — anger, envy, &c. In none of them is there any refer- 
 ence 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 suflBcient 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 per- 
 ception, 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 discern- 
 ment 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
 
 168 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— HUTCHESON. 
 
 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 
 aflfections and passions ; it greatly subserves the grand deter- 
 mination 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 per- 
 ceiving 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 Digyiity, 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 propen- 
 sity 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 princi- 
 ples already mentioned, having little or no exercise in solitude, 
 would bring them together, even without family ties. Patriot- 
 ism 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 HI. treats of the Ultimate Determinations of the 
 Will and Benevolent Affections. The question now is to find
 
 BENETOLENCE. 169 
 
 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 
 speciall}'- the system that, allowing the existence of particular 
 disinterested affections, puts the self-satisfaction felt in yield- 
 ing to the generous sentiments above all other kinds of enjoy- 
 ments. But, he asks, is there not also a calm determinatio7i 
 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 seu-ation until they are 
 gratified, it is no proof of their bein^- selfish that their gratifi- 
 cation 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 imme- 
 diate cause of moral approbation.' Now, anything to be had 
 from men could not raise within us such afiections, 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, some- 
 times, in the form of parental afiection, 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 gene- 
 rous aiFections are selfish, because by sijmpaihy we make the • 
 pleasures and pains of others our own. Sympathy is a real 
 fact, but has regard only to the distress or sufiering beheld or 
 imagined in others, whereas generous affection is varied to- 
 ward different characters. Sympathy can never explain the 
 immediate ardour of our good- will towards the morally ex- 
 cellent 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 
 8
 
 170 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 
 
 of the world by the Deity, tliis 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 ex- 
 cellence, 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 accouats 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 affec- 
 tions and actions consequent on them ; or a natural sense of 
 immediate excellence in them, not referred to any other quality 
 perceivable b}'- 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 regu- 
 late all the other powers is matter of immediate consciousness ; 
 we must ever prefer moi^al good to the good apprehended by 
 the other perceptive powers. For while every other good is 
 lessened by th% 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
 
 MORAL FACULTY. 171 
 
 and selfishness. (2) Qaalities immediately connected with 
 virtuous affections — ^candour, veracity, fortitude, sense of hon- 
 our. (3) The kind affections themselves, and the more as 
 they are fi.xed 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 excel- 
 lence, whether observed in ourselves or others — in short, true 
 piety towards God. He goes on to give a similar scale of 
 moral turpitude. A^-ain, puffing aside the indifferent quali- 
 ties, 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 pas- 
 sions (especially when grown into habits) causing injury. 
 (4) Injury caused by selfish and sensual passions. (5) De- 
 liberate injur}" 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 prin- 
 ciples 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 imme- 
 diate 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
 
 172 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUTCH EBON. 
 
 defence of the doctiine of a moral sense, against the arga- 
 ment 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. Bat the moral sense is 
 really more uniform. For, in every nation, it is the bene- 
 volent actions and affections that are approved, and wher- 
 ever 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, 
 &G. (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, whicb 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 en ^ 
 dured, 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 imms- 
 diate sense of dignity or worth. In the great diversity of 
 tastes regarding pleasures, he supposes the ultimate decision
 
 HAPPINESS. 173 
 
 as to tlie 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 thi'ough 
 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, notmthstanding, quite proper within due limits, and 
 then, perhaps, are at their highest. The pleasures of the 
 ima'/iuatlon, knowledge, &g., 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 exer- 
 cise of the soul when it is not moved by the affections of 
 social virtue, or the offices of rational piety. The sijinpathetio 
 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 wdth the last two classes, it is tha 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 jjower^ 
 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 yefc 
 argues that, at the worst, it is not to be compared for a 
 moment to the pain of the worst wrong- doing. The imagi- 
 nation, great as are its pleasures, cannot cause much pain. 
 The sympathetic and moral pains of remorse and infamy aro 
 the worst of all.
 
 174: ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 
 
 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 gene- 
 rous affection lies in the want of proportion ; in calm extensive 
 good will there can be no excess. The social and moral enjoy- 
 ments, 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 lil'e, 
 sensual pleasure, desire of power, glory, and ease. He has 
 still one ' object of affection to every rational mind ' that he 
 must de?l with before he is done with considering the question 
 of highest happiness. This is the Deity, or the Mind that 
 presides in the Universe. 
 
 Chaj.ter 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 bene- 
 volent, on occasion of which he has to deal with, the great 
 question of Evil, giving reasons for its existence, discovering 
 its usffi, narrowing its range as compared with good, and 
 finally reducing it by the consideration and proof of immor- 
 tality ; lie 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 lo^t; and trust and gratitude, &c., external by 
 praj'er, 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 XT., he closes the whole book with remarks 
 on the Supreme Happiness of our Nature, which he makes
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES AFFECTING MORAL JUDGMENTS. 175 
 
 to consist in the perfect exercise of the nobler virtues, espe- 
 cially love and resignation to God, and of all the inferior 
 virtues consistent with the superior ; also in external pros- 
 perity, 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 Con- 
 sideration, 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 ; re- 
 marking, 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 de- 
 pendent on the strength of the affections. Next, and at greater 
 length, morality as dependent on the hind of the affections.
 
 176 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUTCHESON. 
 
 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 ivill 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 affec- 
 tion 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 lY. 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 im- 
 perfect. 
 
 Chapter V. Natural rights are antecedent to society, such 
 as the right to life, to liberty, to private judgment, to mar- 
 riage, &c. They are of two kinds — perfect and imperfect. 
 
 Chapter YI. 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.
 
 EIGHTS AND LAWS. 177 
 
 Chapter VII. treats of the Acquisition of property, Hutche- 
 Bon, 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 neces- 
 sity, 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 XIIL enumerates the various classes of contracts, 
 following the Roman Law, taking up Mandatum, Bejpositum, 
 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 soj-ie cases, be justified in sending 
 or accepting a challeuge. 
 
 Chapter XVL Rights belonging to society as against the 
 individual. The perfect rights of society are such as the 
 following: — (I) To prevent suicide ; (2) To require the pro- 
 ducing 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
 
 178 ElHICAL SYSTEMS— HUTCHESON. 
 
 goveriJiTig in all domestic affairs, and the other promises sub- 
 jection.' 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 Chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Chapter III. The Rights and Duties of Masters and Ser- 
 vants. 
 
 Chapter TV. discusses the Motives to constitute Civil Go- 
 vernment. If men were perfectly wise and upright, there 
 would be no need for government. Man is naturally sociable 
 and political (^wov TroXniKou.) 
 
 Chapter Y. shows that the natural method of constituting 
 civil government is by consent or social compact. 
 
 Chapter YI. The Forms of Government, with their respec- 
 tive advantages and disadvantages. 
 
 Chapter YII. 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 YIIL 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 forms &c., of contracts 
 and dispositions, with a view to prevent fraud ; (3) To require 
 men to follow the most prudent methods of agriculture, manu- 
 factures, 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
 
 THE DIGNIFED VIEW OF HUMAN NA.TUKE. 179 
 
 certain affections and in tlie actions consequent upon them. 
 The object of approval is, in the main, benevolence. 
 
 II. — His division of the feelings is into calm and tur- 
 bulent, each of these being again divided into self regarding 
 and benevolent. He affirms the existence of pure Disinterest- 
 edness, 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 oi 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, con- 
 tenting 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 jm-isconsults, rather than of the moralists. When he 
 enters into the details of moral dutic s lie 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.] 
 
 Mandevtlle 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 good- 
 ness and excellency of our nature, were as romantic and 
 chimerical, as they are beautiful and amiable.' Mandeville 
 examined not what human nature our/ht to be, but what it 
 really is. In contrast, therefore, to the moralists that dis« 
 tinguish between a higher and a lower in our nature, attribut*
 
 180 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— MANDEVILLE. 
 
 ing to the higher everything good and noble, while the lowef 
 ought to be persecated 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 king- 
 doms, really arise from the passions usually reckoned base and 
 sensual. As his views are scattered through numerous disser- 
 tations, it will be best to summarize them under a few heads. 
 
 1. Virtue and Vice. Morality is not natural to m.an ; 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 con- 
 trived an imagiiiarij one — honour. Upon this they proceeded 
 to divide men into two classes^ the one abject and base, in- 
 capable of self-denial ; the other noble, because they sup- 
 pressed 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 with- 
 out 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 every- 
 thing 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 it is 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
 
 SELF-LOVE AND PEIDE. 181 
 
 the anfferings of others. Pity is as mucli a frailty of our 
 nature as anger, pride, or fear. The weakest minds (e.jy., 
 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, Nature has given them an instinct, by 
 which even/ individual values itself above its real worth.^ The 
 more mettlesome and spirited animals (e.g., horses) are en- 
 dowed with this instinct. In us, it is accompanied with an ap- 
 prehension that we do overvalue ourselves; hence our suscepti- 
 bility 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 i^ politeness. ' Good 
 manners consists in flattering the pride of others, and conceal- 
 ing 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 ; ihe Romans were almost 
 masters of the world before they learned politeness. 
 
 3. Pride, Yanitij, Honour. Pride is of great consequence 
 in Mandeville's system. ' The moral virtues are the political 
 off'spriug which flattery begot upon pride.' Man is naturally 
 innocent, timid, and stupid ; desdtnte of strong passions or ap- 
 petites, 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 shame- 
 lessness 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 fames of vanity, he can 
 feast on the thought of the praises that shall be paid his 
 memory in fature 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
 
 182 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— MANDEVILLE. 
 
 most notable institution of pride is the love of honour. Honon? 
 is a * chimera,' having no reality in nature, but a mere inven- 
 tion of moralists and politicians, to keep men close to their 
 engagements, whatever they be. In some families it is heredi- 
 tary, 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 ex- 
 perience 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
 
 OEIGIN OF SOCIETY. 183 
 
 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 diffi- 
 culty, 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 pro- 
 tect themselves, several families would be compelled to accep 
 the leadership of the strongest. The leaders, seeing the mis- 
 chiefs of dissension, would employ all their art to extirpate 
 that evil. Thus they would forbid killing one another, steal- 
 ing 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.* 
 
 I. — Mandeville's object being chiefly negative and dialeC' 
 tical, 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 dis- 
 interestedness. The motive to observe moral rules is pride 
 
 * It is instructive to compare Mandeville's a priori guesses with the 
 results of Mr. Maine's historical investigation into the condition of early 
 societies. The evidence shows that society originated in the family 
 system. Mandeville conjectured that solitary families would never attain 
 to government; but Mr. Maine considers that there was a complete des- 
 potic government in single families. ' They have neither assemblies for 
 consultation nor thcmistes, but every one exercises jurisdiction over his 
 wives and chil Iren, and they pay no regard to one another.' The next 
 stage is the rise of yentes and tribes, which took place probably when a 
 family held together instead of separating on the death of the patriarch. 
 The features of this state were chieftainship and themistes, that is, govern- 
 ment not by laws, but by ex post facto decisions upon cases as they arose. 
 This gradually developed into customary law, which was in its turn super- 
 seded, on the invention of writing, by written codes. Maine's Ancient 
 Law, Chap. V.
 
 184 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUME. 
 
 and vanity fomented by politicians. He does not regard 
 virtue as an independent end, even by association, but con- 
 siders that pride in its naked form is the ever present incen- 
 tive to good conduct. 
 
 v.— The connexion of vii'tue with society is already fully 
 indicated. 
 
 In France, the name of Helvetius (author of De Vesprit, 
 Be Vhomme, &c., 1715-71) is identified with a serious (in con- 
 trast to Mandeville), and perfectly consistent, attempt to 
 reduce all morality to direct Self-interest. Though he adopted 
 this ultimate interpretation of the facts, Helvetias 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 Hame are contained in ' An Enquiry 
 concerning the Principles of Morals.^ 
 
 In an Introductory Section (I.) he treats of the General 
 Principles of Morals. 
 
 After deso.ribing those that profess to deny the reality of 
 the distinction of flight and Wrong, as disingenuous dis- 
 putants, useless to reason with, — he states the great problem 
 of Morals to be, whether the foundation is Reason or Senti- 
 ment ; 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 con- 
 troversy 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 amiahJe, 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. Extin- 
 guish our feelings towards virtue and vice, and norality 
 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
 
 BENEVOLENCE THE HIGHEST HUMA.N MERIT. 185 
 
 upon actions, wheTebj we pronounce them praiseworthy or 
 blameable, roay 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 adjudicatintr between these two prin- 
 ciples, 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 hati-ed 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 11. 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 happi- 
 ness 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 jiart 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 nmch affected by it. 
 
 Section III. is on Justice. That Justice is useful to 
 society, and thence derives part of its merit, would be super- 
 fluous to prove. That public utility is the sole orio-in of 
 Justice, and that the beneficial consequences are the sole foun- 
 dation 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 pro- 
 vided with such abundance of all external things, that with- 
 out 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.
 
 186 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUME, 
 
 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 heau 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 iu 
 the ardour of new enthusiasms. 
 
 Reverse tlie above suppositions, and imagine a society iu 
 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 or a siege ; in such circumstances, 
 justice is suspended in favour of self-preservation ; the possi- 
 bility 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, con- 
 sulting 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 Propertgr ; 
 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 funda- 
 mental 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 privi- 
 lege 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
 
 JUSTICE. 187 
 
 existence, and were isolated from every other ; so solitary a 
 beiug would be as incapable of justice as of speech. The 
 sphere of this duty begins with society ; and extends as 
 buciety extends, and as it contributes to the well-being of the 
 iudi vidua! members of society. 
 
 Tae author next examines the ^particular laws embodying 
 justice and determining property. He supposes a creature, 
 iiuving reason, but unsKiiied in human nature, to deliberate 
 with himself how to distribute property. His most obvious 
 tiiought would be to give the largest possessions to the most 
 virtuous, so as to give the power of cluing good where there 
 was the most inclination, liut so unpracticaole 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 conse- 
 quences. 
 
 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 t_ype 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 distinc- 
 tion 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 ol 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 
 analofjy 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 natiuT
 
 188 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUME. 
 
 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. Bat 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 
 prsetors, 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 de- 
 mands certain essentials; but beyond these, there is every 
 conceivable diversity. 
 
 It is true that, by education and custom, we blame in- 
 justice 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 sub- 
 sist under such disorders ? 
 
 Thus, then, Hume considers that^ by an inductive deter- 
 mination, 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 appro- 
 bation 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.
 
 WHY UTILITY PLEASES. 189 
 
 [Harae ia here supposing that mea enter into society on 
 equal terms ; he maizes no allowance for the exercise of the 
 rig-ht 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 ex- 
 tended to tyranny.] 
 
 When political societies hold intercourse with one another, 
 certain regulations are made, termed Liws 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 beea 
 thought of. The reason why chastity is extended to cases 
 where child-bearing does not enter, is that general rides 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. Im- 
 moral 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. Jj^or all 
 such cases, the common iaterest and utility begets a standard 
 of rio-ht and wrong' in those concerned. 
 
 Section V. proceeds to argue Why Utility pleases. How- 
 ever 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 
 (2j 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
 
 190 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUME. 
 
 for the feeling in those cases ; if we have an eye solely to our 
 own real interest, it is not couceivabie 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 pret- 
 erence of the public interest. We are, therelbre, 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 hu- 
 manity or benevolence ? Or to conceive that the very aspect 
 of happiness, joy, prosperity, gives pleasure; while pain, 
 suffermg, 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 
 Bentiment 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 useiiil to the possessor in the first instance ? Then 
 the qualities of Honesty, Fidelity, and Tkuth, 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 Un chastity 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 hap-
 
 AGREEABLE QUALITIES. 191 
 
 piness 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 suit- 
 ability 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 con- 
 temned, 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 agree- 
 able 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 immedl^tely 
 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
 
 192 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HUME. 
 
 ever bo weak, they still direct a preference of what is service- 
 able to what is pernicious ; and on tliese preferences a moral 
 distinction is founded. In the notion of morals, two things 
 are implied ; a sentiment common to all mankind, and a senti- 
 ment whose objects comprehend all mankind ; and these two 
 requisites belong to the sentiment of humanity or benevolence. 
 
 Another spi-ing of our constitution, that brings a great 
 addition of force to moral sentiment, is Love of Fame. The 
 pursuit of a character, name, and reputation in the world, 
 leads to a habit of surveying our own actions, begets a rever- 
 ence for self as well as others, and is thus the guardian of 
 every virtue. Humanity and Love of Reputation combine to 
 form the highest type of morality yet conceived. 
 
 The nature of moral approhatlon being thus solved, there 
 remains the nature of obligation ; by which the author means 
 to enquire, if a man having a view to his own welfare, will 
 not find his best account in the practice of every moral virtue. 
 He dwells upon the many advantages of social virtue, of 
 benevolence and friendship, humanity and kindness, of truth 
 and honesty; but confesses that the rule that 'honesty is the 
 best policy' is liable to many exceptions. He makes ns 
 acquainted with his own theory of Happiness. How little is 
 requisite to supply the necessities of nature ? and what com- 
 parison is there between, on the one hand, the cheap plea- 
 sures of conversation, society, study, even health, and, on the 
 other, the common beauties of nature, with self-approbation ; 
 and the feverish, empty amusements of luxury and expense ? 
 
 Thus ends the main treatise ; but the author adds, iu an 
 Appendix, four additional dissertations. 
 
 The first takes up the question started at the outset, but 
 postponed, how far our moral approbation is a matter of 
 reason, and how f\ir of sentiment. His handling of this topic 
 is luminous and decisive. 
 
 If the utilit}'- of actions be a foundation of our approval of 
 them, reason must have a share, for no other faculty can trace 
 the results of actions in their bearings upon human happi- 
 ness. In Justice especially, there are often numerous and 
 complicated considerations; such as to occupy the delibera- 
 tions of politicians and the debates of lawyers. 
 
 On the other hand, reason is insufficient of itself to con- 
 stitute the feeling of moral approbation or disapprobation. 
 R-eason shows the means to an end ; but if we are otherwise 
 indifferent to the end, the reasonings fall inoperative on the 
 mind. Here then a sentiment must display itself, a deligbfc
 
 REASON INSUFFIC[ENT. 193 
 
 in the happiness of men, and a repugnance to what eansea 
 them misery. Reason teaches the consequences of actions ; 
 Humanity or Benevolence is roused to make a distinction in 
 favour of such as are beneficial. 
 
 He adduces a number of illustrations to show that reason 
 alone is insufficient to make a moral sentimeut. He bids us 
 examine Ingratitude, for instance ; good offices bestowed on 
 one side, ill-will on the other. Reason might say, whether a 
 certain action, say the gift o!" money, or an act of patronage, 
 was for the good of the party receiving it, and whether the 
 circumstances of the gift indicated a good intention on the 
 part of the giver; it might also say, whether the actions of the 
 person oi)liged were intentionally or consciously hurtful or 
 wanting in esteem to the person obliging. But when all this 
 is made out by reason, there remains the sentiment of abhor- 
 rence, whose foundations must be in the emotional part of our 
 nature, in our delight in manifested goodness, and our abhor- 
 rence of the opposite. 
 
 He refers to Beauty or Taste as a parallel case, where 
 there may be an operation of the intellect to compute propor- 
 tions, but where the elegance or beauty must arise in the 
 region of feeling. Thus, while reason conveys the knowledge 
 of truth and falsehood, sentiment or emotion must give beauty 
 and deformity, vice and virtue. 
 
 Appendix No. H. is a discussion of Self-love, The author 
 adverts first to the position that benevolence is a mere pre- 
 tence, a cheat, a gloss of self-love, and dismisses it with a 
 burst of indignation. He next considers the less offensive 
 view, that all benevolence and generosity are resolvable in 
 the last resort into self-love. He does not attribute to the 
 holders of this opinion any laxity in their own practice of 
 virtue, as compared with other men. Epicurus and his fol- 
 lowers were no strangers to probity; Atticus and Horace 
 were men of generous dispositions ; Hobbes and Locke were 
 irreproachable in their lives. These men all allowed that 
 friendship exists without hypocrisy ; but considered that, by 
 a sort of mental chemistry, it might be made out self-love, 
 twisted and moulded by a particular turn of the imagination. 
 But, says Hume, as some men have not the turn of imagina- 
 tion, and others have, this alone is quite enough to make the 
 widest difference of human characters, and to stamp one man 
 as virtuous and humane, and another vicious and meanly inter- 
 ested. The analysis in no way sets aside the reality of moral 
 distinctions. The question is, therefore, purely speculative.
 
 194 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— HUME. 
 
 As a speoiilation, it is open to tbese objections. (1) Being 
 contrary to the unprejudiced notions of mankind, it demands 
 some very powerful aid from philosophy. On the face of 
 things, the selfish passions and the benevolent passions are 
 widely distinguished, and no hypothesis has ever yet so far 
 overcome the disparity as to show that the one could grow 
 out of the other ; we may discern in the attempts that love of 
 slmjyliciti/, which has done so much harm to philosophy. 
 
 The Animals are susceptible of kindness; shall we then 
 attribute to them, too, a refinement of self-interest ? Again, 
 what interest can a fjnd mother have in view who loses her 
 health in attendance on a sick child, and languishes and dies 
 of grief when relieved from the slavery of that attendance? 
 
 (2) But farther, the real simplicity lies on the side of inde- 
 pendent and disinterested benevolence. There are bodily 
 appetites that carry us to their objects before sensual enjoy- 
 ment ; hunger and thirst have eating and drinking for their 
 end ; the gratification follows, and becomes a secondary desire. 
 [A very questionable analysis.] So there are mental passions, 
 as fame, power, vengeance, that urge us to act, in the first 
 instance ; and when the end is attained, the pleasure follows. 
 Now, as vengeance may be so pursued as to make us neglect 
 ease, interest, and safety, why may we not allow to humanity 
 and friendship the same privileges ? [This is Butler, improved, 
 in the statement.] 
 
 Appendix III. gives some farther considerations with re- 
 gard to Justice. The point of the discussion is to show that 
 Justice differs from Generosity or Beneficence in a regard to 
 distant consequences, and to General Rules. The theme is 
 handled in the author's usual happy style, but contains nothing 
 special to him. He omits to state what is also a prime attri- 
 bute of Justice, its being indispensable to the very existence 
 of society, which cannot be said of generosity apart from its 
 contributing to justice. 
 
 Appendix IV. is on some Verbal Disputes. He remarks 
 that, neither in English nor in any other modern tongue, is 
 the boundary fixed between virtues and talents, vices and 
 defects; that praise is given to natural endowments, as well 
 as to voluntary exertions. The epithets intellectual and moral 
 do not precisely divide the virtues ; neither does the contrast 
 of head 'ciudi heart; many virtuous qualities partake of both 
 ingredients. So the sentiment of conscious worth, or of its 
 opposite, is affected by what is not in our power, as well as by 
 wiiat is ; by the goodness or badness of our memory, as well
 
 VAKIETIES OF MOEAX SENTIMENT. 195 
 
 as bj continence or dissoluteness of conduct. Without endow- 
 ments of the understanding, the best intentit)ns will not 
 procure esteem. 
 
 The ancient moralists included in the virtues what are 
 obviously natural endowments. Prudence, according to Cicero, 
 involved sagacity or powers of judgment. In Aristotle, we 
 find, among the virtues. Courage, Temperance, Magnanimity, 
 Modesty, Prudence, and manly Openness, as well as Justice 
 and Friendship. Epictetus puts people on their guard against 
 humanity and compassion. In general, the difference of volun- 
 tary and involuntary was little regar.led in ancient ethics. 
 This is changed in modern times, by the alliance of Ethics 
 with Theology. The divine has put all morality on the foot- 
 ing of the civil law, and guarded it by the same sanctions of 
 reward and punishment ; and consequently must make the 
 distinction of voluntary and involuntary fundamental. 
 
 Hume also composed a dialogue, to illustrate, iu his light 
 and easy style, the great variety, amounting almost to opposi- 
 tion, of men's moral sentiments in different ages. This may 
 seem adverse to his principle of Utility, as it is to the doctrine 
 of an Intuitive Sense of Right and Wrong, He allows, how- 
 ever, for the different ways that people may view Utility, 
 seeing that the consequences of acting are often difficult to 
 estimate, and people may agree in an end without agreeing in. 
 the means. Still, he pays too little attention to the sentimental 
 likings and dislikmgs that frequently overbear the sense of 
 Utility ; scarcely recognizing it, except in one passage, whei e 
 he dwells on the superstitions that mingle with a regard to 
 the consequences of actions in determining right. 
 
 We shall now ^'^x>eat the leading points of Hume's system, 
 in the usual order. 
 
 I. — The Standard of Right and Wrong is Utility, or a refer- 
 ence to the Happiness of mankind. This is the ground, as 
 well as the motive, of moral approbation. 
 
 II. — As to the nature of the Moral Faculty, he contends 
 that it is a compound of Reason, and Humane or Generous 
 Sentiment. 
 
 He does not introduce the subject of Free-will into Morals. 
 
 He contends strongly for the existence of Disinterested 
 Sentiment, or Benevolence ; but scarcely recognizes it as 
 leading to absolute and uncompensated self-sacrifice. He 
 does not seem to see that as far as the approbation of benevo- 
 lent actions is concerned, we are anything but disinterested 
 parties. The good done by one man is done to some others ;
 
 196 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— PRICE. 
 
 and the recipients are moved by their self-love to enconrage 
 beneficence. » The regard to our own benefactor makes all 
 benefactors interesting. 
 
 III. — He says little directly bearing on the constituents of 
 Human Happiness ; but that little is all in favour of simplicity 
 of life and cheap pleasures. He does not reflect that the plea- 
 sures singled out by him are far from cheap ; 'agreeable con- 
 versation, society, study, health, and the beauties of nature,* 
 although not demanding extraordinary wealth, cannot be 
 secured without a larger share of worldly means than has 
 ever fallen to the mass hl men in any community. 
 
 IV. — As to the substance of the Moral Code, he makes no 
 innovations. He talks somewhat more lightly of the evils of 
 Unchastity than is customary ; but regards the prevailing 
 restraints as borne out by Utility. 
 
 The inducements to virtue are, in his view, our humane 
 sentiments, on the one hand, and our self-love, or prudence, 
 on the other ; the two classes of motives conspiring to pro- 
 mote both our own good and the good of mankind. 
 
 V. —The connexion of Ethics with Politics is not specially 
 brought out. The political virtues are moral virtues. He 
 does not dwell upon the sanctions of morality, so as to dis- 
 tinguish the legal sanction from the popular sanction. He 
 draws no line between Duty and Merit. 
 
 VI. — He recognizes no relationship between Ethics and 
 Theology. The principle of Benevolence in the human mind 
 is, he thinks, an adequate source of moral approbation and 
 disapprobation ; and he takes no note of what even sceptics 
 (Gibbon, for example) often dwe 1 upon, the aid of the Theo- 
 logical sanction in enforcing duties imperfectly felt by the 
 natural and unprompted sentiments of the mind. 
 
 RICHARD PRICE. (1723-1791.) 
 
 Price's work is entitled, ' A Review of the principal ques- 
 tions in Morals ; particularly those respecting the Origin of 
 our Ideas of Virtue, its Nature, Relation to the Deity, O'oli- 
 gation, Subject-matrer, and Sanctions,' In the third edition, 
 he added an Appendix on 'the Being and Attributes of the 
 Deity.' 
 
 The book is divided into ten chapters. 
 
 Chapter I. is on the origin of our Ideas of Right and 
 Wrong. The actions of moral agents, he says, give rise in us 
 to three difierent perceptions: 1st, Right and Wrong; 2nd,
 
 IDEAS OF EIGHT AND WKOFG. 197 
 
 Beauty and Deformity ; 3rd, Good or HI Desert. It is the 
 first of these perceptions that he proposes mainly to consider. 
 
 He commences by quoting Hatcheson's doctrine of a 
 Moral Sense, which he describes as an implanted and arbitrary 
 principle, imparting a relish or disrelish for actions, like the 
 sensibilities of the various senses. On this doctrine, he 
 remarks, the Creator might have annexed the same sentiments 
 to the opposite actions. Other schemes of morality, such as 
 Self-love, Positive Laws and Compacts, the Will of the 
 Deity, he dismisses as not meeting the true question. 
 
 The question, as conceived by him, is, ' What is the power 
 within us that perceives the distinctions of Right and Wrong?* 
 The answer is, The Understanding. 
 
 To establish this position, he enters into an enquiry into 
 the distinct provinces of Sense and of Understanding in the 
 origin of our ideas. It is plain, he says, that what judges 
 concerning the perceptions of the senses, and contradicts 
 their decisions, cannot itself be sense, but must be some 
 nobler faculty. Likewise, the power that views and compares 
 the objects of all the senses cannot be sense. Sense is a mere 
 capacity of being passiv^ely impressed; it presents particular 
 forms to the mind, and is incapable of discovering general 
 truths. It is the understanding that perceives order or pro- 
 portion ; variety and regularity ; design, connexion, art, and 
 power; aptitudes, dependence, correspondence, and adjust- 
 ment of parts to a whole or to an end. He goes over our 
 leading ideas in detail, to show that mere sense cannot furnish 
 them. Thus, Solidity, or Impenetrability, needs an exertion 
 of reason; we must compare instances to know that two 
 atoms of matter cannot occupy the same space. Vis Inertim 
 is a perception of the reason. So Substance, Duration, Space, 
 Necessary Existence, Power, and Causation involve the under- 
 standing. Likewise, that all Abstract Ideas whatsoever require 
 the understanding is superfluously proved. The author 
 wonders, therefore, that his position in this matter should not 
 have been sooner arrived at. 
 
 The tracing of Agreement and of Disagreement, which are 
 functions of the Understanding, is really the source of simple 
 ideas. Thus, Equality is a simple idea originating^ in this 
 source; so are Proportion, Identity and Diversity, Existence, 
 Cause and Effect, Power, Possibility and Impossibility; and 
 (as he means ultimately to show) Risrht and Wrong. 
 
 Although the author's exposition is not very lucid, his 
 main conclusion is a sound one. Sense, in its narrowest
 
 198 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — PRICE. 
 
 acceptation, gives particular impressions and experiences of 
 Colour, Sound, Touch, Taste, Odour, &c. The Intellectual 
 functions of Discrimination and Agreement are necessary as a 
 supplement to Sense, to recognize these impressions as diflfer- 
 ing and agreeing, as Equal or Unequal ; Proportionate op 
 Disproportionate ; Harmonious or Discordant. And farther, 
 every abstract or general notion, — colours in the abstract, 
 sweetness, pungency, &c. — supposes these powers of the 
 understanding in addition to the recipiency of the senses. 
 
 To apply this to Right and Wrong, the author begins by 
 affirming [what goes a good way towards begging the ques- 
 tion] that right and wrong are simple ideas, and therefore the 
 result of an immediate power of perception in the human 
 mind. Beneficence and Cruelty are indefinable, and therefore 
 ultimate. There must be some actions that are in the last 
 resort an end in themselves. This being assumed, the author 
 contends that the power of immediately perceiving these 
 ultimate ideas is the Understanding. Shaftesbury had con- 
 tended that, because the perception of right and wrong was 
 immediate, therefore it must reside in a special Sense. The 
 conclusion, thinks Price, was, to say the least of it, hasty ; for 
 it does not follow that every immediate perception should 
 reside in a special sensibility or sense. He puts it to each 
 one's experience whether, in conceiving Gratitude or Benefi- 
 cence to be right, one feels a sensation merely, or performs an 
 act of understanding 'Would not a Being purely intelligent, 
 having happiness within his reach, approve of securing it for 
 himself? Would he not think this right; and would it not 
 be right ? When we contemplate the happiness of a species, op 
 of a world, and pronounce on the actions of reasonable beings 
 which promote it, that they are right, is this judging errone- 
 ously? Or is it no determination of the judgment at all, bat 
 a sj)ecies of mental taste [as Shaftesbury and Hutcheson sup- 
 posed] ? [As against a moral sense, this reasoning may be 
 effective; but it obviously assumes an end of desire, — happi- 
 ness for self, or for others — and yet does not allow to that end 
 any share in making up the sense of right and wrong.] Every 
 one, the author goes on to say, must desire happiness for 
 himself; and our rational nature thenceforth must approve of 
 the actions for promoting happiness, and disapprove of 
 the contrary actions. Surely the understanding has some 
 share in the revulsion that we feel when any one brings upon 
 himself, or upon others, calamity and ruin. A being tiattered 
 with hopes of bliss and then plunged into torments would
 
 MORALITY DETERMINED BY THE UNDERSTANDING. 199 
 
 complain jiisthj ; he would consider that violence had been 
 done to a perception of the human understanding. 
 
 He next brings out a metaphysical difficulty in applying 
 right and wrong to actions, on the supposition that they are 
 mere effects of sensation. All sensations, as such, are modes 
 of consciousness, or feelings, of a sentient being, and must be 
 of a nature different from their causes. Colour is in the mind, 
 not an attribute of the object; but right and wrong are quali- 
 ties of actions, of objects, and therefore must be ideas, not 
 sensations. Then, again, there can be nothing true or untrue 
 in a sensation : all sensations are alike just ; while the moral 
 rectitude of an action is something absolute and unvarying. 
 Lastly, all actions have a nature, or character ; something 
 truly belonging to them, and truly affirmable of them. If 
 actions have no character, then they are all indifferent ; but 
 this no one can affirm ; we all strongly believe the contrary. 
 Actions are not indifferent. They are good or bad, better or 
 worse. And if so, they are declared such by an act of judg' 
 menf, a function of the understanding. 
 
 The author, considering his thesis established, deduces 
 from it the corollar\-, that morality is eternal and immutable. 
 As an object of the Understand mg, it has an invariable 
 essence. No will, not even Omnipotence, can make things 
 other than they are. Right and wrong, as far as they express 
 tlie real characters of actions, must immutably and necessarily 
 belong to the actions. By action, is of course understood not 
 a bare external effect, but an effect taken along with its prin- 
 ciple or rule, the motives or reasons of the being that performs 
 it. The matter of an action being the same, its morality 
 reposes upon the end or motive of the agent. Nothing can be 
 obligatory in us that was not so from eternity. The will of 
 God could not make a thing right that was not right in its 
 own nature. 
 
 The author closes his first chapter with a criticism of the 
 doctrine of Protagoras — that man is the measure of all things 
 — interpreting it as ano^lier phase of the view that he is com- 
 bating. 
 
 Although this chapter is but a small part of the work, it 
 completes the author's demonstration of his ethical theory. 
 
 Chapter II. is on ' our Ideas of the Beauty and Deformity 
 of Actions.' By these are meant our pleasurable and painful 
 sentiments, arising from the consideration of moral right and 
 wrong, expressed by calling some actions amiable, and others 
 odious, shocking, vile. Although, in this aspect of actions,
 
 200 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— PRICE. 
 
 it would seera that tlie reference to a sense is the suitable ex- 
 planation, he still contends for the intervention of the Under- 
 standing. The character of the Deity mnst appear more 
 amiable the better it is known and underslood. A reasonable 
 being, without any special sensibilities, but knowing what 
 order and happiness are, would receive pleasure from the con- 
 templation of a universe where order prevailed, and pain from 
 a prospect of the contrary. To behold virtue is to admire her ; 
 to perceive vice is to be moved to condemnation. There must 
 always be a consideration of the circumstances of an action, 
 and this involves intellectual discernment. 
 
 The author now qualifies his doctrine by the remark, that 
 to some superior beings the intellectual discernment may 
 explain the whole of the appearances, but inferior natures, 
 such as the human, are aided by instinctive determinations. 
 Oar appetites and passions are too strong for reason by itself, 
 especially in early years. Hence he is disposed to conclude 
 that * in contemplating the actions of moral agents, we have 
 both a loercejption of the understanding and a feeling oftJie heart ;^ 
 but that this feeling of the heart, while partly instinctive, is 
 mainly a sense of congruity and incongruity in actions. The 
 author therefore allows something to innate sense, but diffcT'S 
 from Shaftesbury, who makes the whole a matter of intuitive 
 determination. 
 
 Chapter III. relates to the origin of our Desires and 
 Affections, by which he means more especially Self-love and 
 Benevolence. His position here is that Self-love is the essence 
 of a Sensible being, Benevolence the essential of an Intelligent 
 being. By the very nature of our sensitive constitution, we 
 cannot but choose happiness for self; and it is only an act of 
 intellectual consistency to extend the same measure to others. 
 The same qualification, however, is made as to the insufficiency 
 of a mere intellectual impulse in this matter, without consti- 
 tutional tendencies. These constitutional tendencies the 
 author considers as made up of our Appetites and Passions, 
 while our Affections are founded on our rational nature. 
 Then follow a few observations in confirmation of Butler's 
 views as to the disinterested nature of our affections. 
 
 Chapter TV. is on our Ideas of good and ill Desert. These 
 are only a variety of our ideas of right and wrong, being the 
 feelings excited towards the moral Agent. Our reason deter- 
 mines, with regard to a virtuous agent, that lie ought to be 
 the better for his virtue. The ground of such determination, 
 however, is not solely that virtuous conduct promotes the
 
 MORAX ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. 201 
 
 Happiness of mankind, and vice detracts from it ; this counts 
 for much, but not for all. Virtue is in itself rewardable ; 
 vice is of essential demerit. Our understanding recognizes 
 the absolute and eternal rectitude, the intrinsic fitness of the 
 procedure in both aspects. 
 
 Chapter V. is entitled * Of the Reference of Morality to 
 the Divine Nature ; the Rectitude of our Faculties ; and the 
 Grounds of Belief.' The author means to reply to the objec- 
 tion that his system, in setting up a criterion independent of 
 God, is derogatory to the Divine nature. He urges that there 
 must be attributes of the Deity, independent of his will ; as 
 his Existence, Immensity, Power, Wisdom; that Mind sup- 
 poses Truth apart from itself; that without moral distinctions 
 there could be no Moral Attributes in the Deity. Certain 
 things are inherent in his Nature, and not dependent on his 
 will. There is a limit to the universe itself; two infinities of 
 space or of duration are not possible. Tlie necessary good- 
 ness of the divine nature is a part of necessary truth. Thus, 
 morality, although not asserted to depend on the will of the 
 Deity, is still resolvable into his nature. In all this. Price 
 avowedly follows Cud worth. 
 
 He then starts another difficulty. May not our faculties 
 be mistaken, or be so constituted as to deceive us r To which 
 he gives the reply, made familiar to us by Hamilton, that the 
 doubt is suicidal; the faculty that donMs being itself under 
 the same imputation. Nay, more, a being cannot be made 
 such as to be imposed on by falsehood ; what is false is 
 nothing. As to the cases of actual mistake, these refer to 
 matters attended with some difficulty ; and it does not follow 
 that we must be mistaken in cases that are clear. 
 
 He concludes with a statement of the ultimate grounds of 
 our belief. These are, (1) Consciousness or Feeling, as in 
 regard to our own existence, our sensations, passions, &c.; 
 (2) Intuition, comprising self-evident truths; and (3) Deduc- 
 tion, or Argumentation. He discusses under these the exist- 
 ence of a material world, and affirms that we have an Intuition 
 that it is possible. 
 
 Chapter VI. considers Fitness and Moral Obligation, and 
 other p.'evailing forms of expression regarding morality. 
 Fitness and Unfitness denote Congrnity or Incongruity, and 
 are necessarily a perception of the Understanding. 
 
 The term Obligation is more perplexing. Still, it is but 
 another name for Tightness. What is Right is, by that very- 
 fact, obligatory. Obligation, therefore, cannot be the creature
 
 202 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— PRICE. 
 
 of law, for law may command what is morally wrong. The 
 will of God enforced by rewards and punishments cannot 
 make right ; it would only determine what is prudent. Re- 
 wards and punishments do not make obligation, but suppose 
 it. Rectitude is a Law, the authoritative guide of a rational 
 being. It is Supreme, universal, unalterable, and indispen- 
 sable. Self-valid and self-originated, it stands on immovable 
 foundations. Being the one authority in nature, it is, in 
 short, the Divine authority. Even the obligations of religion 
 are but branches of universal rectitude. The Sovereign 
 Authority is not the mere result of his Almighty Power, but 
 of this conjoined with his necessary perfections and infinite 
 excellence. 
 
 He does not admit that obligation implies an obligor. 
 
 He takes notice of the objection that certain actions may 
 be right, and yet we are not bound to perform them ; such are 
 acts of generosity and kindness. But his answer throws no 
 farther light on his main doctrine. 
 
 In noticing the theories of other writers in the same vein, 
 as Wollaston, he takes occasion to remark that, together with 
 the . perception of conformity or fitness, there is a simple 
 immediate perception urging us to act according to that 
 fitness, for which no farther reason can be assigned. When 
 we compare innocence and eternal misery, we are struck with 
 the idea of unsuitablenc ^s, and are inspired in consequence 
 with intense repugnance. 
 
 Chapter VII. discusses the Heads or Divisions of Virtue; 
 under which he enquires first what are virtuous actions; 
 secondly, what is the true principle or motive of a virtuous 
 agent ; and thirdly, the estimate of the degrees of virtue. 
 
 He first quotes Butler to show that all virtue is not 
 summed up in Benevolence ; repeating that there is an in- 
 trinsic rectitude in keeping faith ; and giving the usual argu- 
 ments against Utility, grounded on the supposed crimes that 
 might be committed on this plea. He is equally opposed to 
 those that would deny disinterested benevolence, or would 
 resolve beneficence into veracit3^ He urges against Hutcheson, 
 that, these being independent and distinct virtues, a distinct 
 sense would be necessary to each ; in other words, we should, 
 for the whole of virtue, need a plurality of moral senses. 
 
 His classification of Virtue comprehends (1) Duty to God, 
 which he dilates upon at some length. (2) Duty to Ourselves, 
 wherein he maintains that our sense of self-interest is not 
 enough for us. (3) Beneficence, the Good of others. (4) Grati-
 
 PRACTICAL MORALITY. 203 
 
 tnde. (5) Veracity, which he inculcates with great earnest- 
 ness, adverting especially to impartiality and honesty in onr 
 enquiries after truth. (6) Justice, which he treats in its appli- 
 cation to the Rights of Property. He considers that the 
 diificulties in practice arise partly from the conflict of the 
 different heads, and partly from the different modes of apply- 
 ing the same principles ; which he gives as an answer to the 
 objection from the great differences of men's moral sentiments 
 and practices. He allows, besides, that custom, education, 
 and example, may blind and deprave our intellectual and 
 moral powers ; but denies that the whole of our notions and 
 sentiments could result from education. No amount of depra- 
 vity is able utterly to destroy our moral discernment. 
 
 Chapter YllL treats ot Intention as au element in virtuous 
 action. He makes a distinction between Virtue in the 
 Abstract and Virtue in Practice, or with reference to all the 
 circumstances of the agent. A man may do abstract wrong, 
 through mistake, while as he acts with his best judgment and 
 with upright intentions, he is practically right. He grounds 
 on this a powerful appeal against every attempt at dominion 
 over conscience. The requisites of Practical Morality are (1) 
 Liberty, or Free-will, on which he takes the side of free-agency. 
 (2) Intelligence, without w^hich there can be no perception of 
 good and evil, and no moral agency. (3) The Consciousness 
 of Rectitude, or Righteous Intention. On this he dw^ls at 
 some length. ISTo action is properly the action of a moral 
 agent unless designed by him. A virtuous motive is essential 
 to virtue. On the question — Is Benevolence a virtuous motive? 
 lie replies : Not the Instinctive benevolence of the parent, but 
 only Rational benevolence ; which he allows to coincide with 
 rectitude. Reason presiding over Self-love renders it a virtuous 
 principle likewise. The presence of Reason in greater or less 
 degree is the criterion of the greater or less virtue of any 
 action. 
 
 Chapter IX. is on the different Degrees of Virtue and Vice, 
 and the modes of estimating them ; the DiflBculties attending 
 the Practice of Virtue; the use of Trials, and the essentials of 
 a good or a bad Character. The considerations adduced are 
 a number of perfectly well-known maxims on the practice of 
 morality, and scarcely add anything to the elucidation of the 
 author's Moral Theory. The concluding chaj^ter, on Natural 
 Religion, contains nothing original. 
 
 To sura up the views of Price : — 
 
 I. — As regards the Moral Standard, he asserts that a percep*
 
 204 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— PRICE. 
 
 tion of the Reason or the Understanding, — a sense of fitness or 
 congruity between actions and the agents, and all the circum- 
 stances attending them, — is what determines Right and Wrong. 
 
 He finds it impracticable to maintain his position without 
 sundry qualifications, as we have seen. Virtue is naturally 
 adapted to please every observing mind ; vice the contrary. 
 Right actions must be grateful, wrong ungrateful to us. To 
 behold virtue is to admire her. In contemplating the actions 
 of moral agents, we have both a perception of the under- 
 standing and a feehng of the heart. He thus re-admits an 
 element of feeling, along with the intellect, in some undefined 
 degree ; contending only that all tyioralUy is not to be resolved 
 into feeling or instinct. We have also noticed another singu- 
 lar admission, to the effect that only superior natures can dis- 
 cover virtue by the understanding. Reason alone, did we 
 possess it in a high degree, would answer all the ends of the 
 passions. Parental afiection would be unnecessary, if parents 
 were sufficiently alive to the reasons of supporting the young, 
 and were virtuous enough to be always determined by them. 
 
 Utility, although not the sole ground of Justice, is yet ad- 
 mitted to be one important reason or ground of many of its 
 maxims. 
 
 II. — The nature of the Moral Faculty, in Price's theory, 
 is not a separate question from the standard, but the same 
 question. His discussion takes the form of an enquiry into 
 the Faculty: — 'What is the pow^c- within us that perceives 
 the distinctions of Right and Wrong ? ' The two questions 
 are mixed up throughout, to the detriment of precision in the 
 reasoning. 
 
 With his usual facility of making concessions to other 
 principles, he says it is not easy to determine how far our 
 natural sentiments may be altered by custom, education, and 
 example: while it would be unreasonable to conclude that all 
 is derived from these sources. That part of our moral 
 constitution depending on instinct is liable to be corrupted 
 by custom and education to almost any length ; but the most 
 depraved can never sink so low as to lose all moral dis- 
 cernment, all ideas of just and unjust ; of which he offers the 
 singular proof that men are never wanting in resentment when 
 they are themselves the objects of ill-treatment. 
 
 As regards the Psychology of Disinterested Action, he pro- 
 vides nothing but a repetition of Butler (Chapter III.) and a 
 vague assertion of the absurdity of denying disinterested 
 benevolence.
 
 WOEKINGS OF SYMPATHY. 205 
 
 IIL — On Human Happiness, lie has only a few genzvaX 
 remarks. Happiness is an object of essential and eternal 
 value. Happiness is the end, and the OJihj end, conceivable 
 by us, of God's providence and government ; but He pursues 
 this end in subordination to rectitude. Virtue J:ends to 
 happiness, but does not always secure it. A person tha^ 
 sacrifices his life rather than violate his conscience, or betraj 
 his country, gives up all possibility of any present reward^ 
 and loses the more in proportion as his virtae is more glorious. 
 
 Neither on the Moral Code, nor in the relations of Ethica 
 to PoUtics and to Theology, are any further remarks on 
 Price called for. 
 
 ADAM SMITH. [1723-90.] 
 
 The * Theory of the Moral Sentiments ' is a work of great 
 extent and elaboration. It is divided into five Parts ; each 
 part being again divided into Sections, and these subdivided 
 into Chapters. 
 
 Part I. is entitled. Of the Propriety of AcriON. Section 
 I. is, ' Of the Sense of Projjrietij,' Propriety is his word for 
 Rectitude or Right. 
 
 Chapter I., entitled, ' Of Sympathy,' is a felicitous illus- 
 tration of the general nature and workings of Sympathy. 
 He calls in the experience of all mankind to attest the 
 existence of our sympathetic impulses. He shows through 
 what medium sympathy operates ; namely, by our placing 
 ourselves in the situation of the other party, and imagining 
 what we should feel in that case. He produces the most 
 notable examples of the impressions made on us by our 
 witnessing the actions, the pleasurable and the painful ex- 
 pression of others ; effects extending even to fictitious repre- 
 sentations. He then remarks that, although on some occasions, 
 we take on simply and purely the feelings manifested in our 
 presence, — the grief or joy of another man, yet this is far from 
 the universal case : a display of angry passion may produce 
 in us hostility and disgust; but this very result may be 
 owing to our sympathy for the person likely to suffer from 
 the anger. So our sympathy for grief or for joy is imperfect 
 until we know the cause, and may be entirely suppressed. 
 We take the whole situation into view, as well as the expression 
 of the feeling. Hence we often feel for another person what 
 that person does not feel for himself; we act out our own 
 view of the situation, not his. We feel for the insane what 
 they do not feel ; we sympathize even with the dead.
 
 206 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ^ADAM SMITH. 
 
 Chapter 11. is * Of the Pleasure of Mutual Sympathy.' It 
 contains illustrations of the delight that we experience in the 
 sympathy of others ; we being thereby strengthened in our plea- 
 sures and relieved in our miseries. He observes that we 
 demand this sympathy more urgently for our painful emotions 
 than for such as are pleasurable ; we are especially intolerant 
 of the omission of our friends to join in our resentments. On 
 the other hand, we feel pleasure in the act of sympathizing, 
 and find in that a compensation for the pain that the sight of 
 pain gives us. Still, this pleasure may be marred if the other 
 party's own expression of grief or of joy is beyond what we 
 think suitable to the situation. 
 
 Chapter III. considers ' the manner of our judging of the 
 propriety of other men's afi'ections by their consonance with 
 our own.' The author illustrates the obvious remark, that 
 we approve of the passions of another, if they are such as we 
 ourselves should feel in the same situation. We require that 
 a man's expression and conduct should be suitable to the 
 occasion, according to our own standard of judging, namely, 
 our own procedure in such cases. 
 
 Chapter IV. continues the subject, and draws a distinction 
 between two cases; the case where the objects of a feeling do 
 not concern either ourselves or the person himself, and the 
 case where they do concern one or other. The first case is 
 shown in matters of taste and science, where we derive 
 pleasure from sympathy, but yet can tolerate difference. The 
 otlier case is exemplified in our personal fortunes ; in these, we 
 cannot endure any one refusing us their sympathy. Still, it 
 is to be noted that the sympathizer does not fully attain the 
 level of the sufierer ; hence the sufferer, aware of this, and 
 desiring the satisfaction of a full accord with his friend, tones 
 down his own vehemence till it can be fnlly met by the other ; 
 which very circumstance is eventually for his own good, and 
 adds to, rather than detracts from, the tranquillizing influence 
 of a friendly presence. We sober down our feelings still more 
 before casual acquaintance and strangers *, and hence the 
 greater equality of temper in the man of the world than in 
 the recluse. 
 
 Chapter Y. makes an application of these remarks to ex- 
 plain the difference between the Amiable and the Respectable 
 Virtues. The soft, the gentle, and the amiable qualities are 
 manifested when, as sympathizers, we enter fully into the 
 expressed sentiments of another ; the great, the awful and 
 respectable virtues of self-denial, are shown when the princi*
 
 THE PASSIONS AS CONSISTENT WITH PROPRIETY. 207 
 
 pal person concerned brings down his own case to the level 
 that the most ordinary sympathy can easily attain to. The 
 one is the virtue of giving much, the other of expecting little. 
 
 Section II. is ' Of the Degrees of the different passioiis which 
 are consistent with propriety.'' Under this head he reviews the 
 leading passions, remarks how far, and why, we can sympa- 
 thize with each. 
 
 Chapter I. is on the Passions having their origin in the 
 body. We can sympathize with hunger to a certain limited 
 extent, and in certain circumstances ; but we can rarely 
 tolerate any very prominent expression of it. The same 
 limitations apply to the passion of the sexes. We partly 
 sympathize with bodily pain, but not with the violent expres- 
 sion of it. These feelings are in marked contrast to the 
 passions seated in the imagination : wherein our appetite for 
 sympathy is complete ; disappointed love or ambition, loss of 
 friends or of dignity, are suitable to representation in art. 
 On the same principle, we can sympathize with danger ; as 
 regards our power of conceiving, we are on a level with the 
 sufferer. From our inability to enter into bodily pain, we the 
 more admire the man that can bear it with firmness. 
 
 Chapter II. is on certain Passions depending on a peculiar 
 turn of the Imagination. Under this he exemplifies cliiefly 
 the situation of two lovers, with whose passion, in its inten- 
 sity, a third person cannot sympathize, although one may enter 
 into the hopes of happiness, and into the dangers and calami- 
 ties often flowing from it. 
 
 Chapter III. is on the Unsocial Passions. These neces- 
 sarily divide our sympathy between him that feels them and 
 him that is their object. Resentment is especially hard to 
 sympathize with. We may ourselves resent wrong done to 
 another, but the less so that the sufferer strongly resents it. 
 Moreover, there is in the passion itself an element of the dis- 
 agreeable and repulsive ; its manifestation is naturally dis- 
 tasteful. It may be useful and even necessary, but so is a 
 prison, which is not on that account a pleasant object. In 
 order to make its gratification agreeable, there must be many 
 well known conditions and qualifications attending it. 
 
 Chajiter lY. gives the contrast of the Social Passions. It 
 is with the humane, the benevolent sentiments, that our sym- 
 pathy is unrestricted and complete. Even in their excess, 
 they never inspire aversion. 
 
 Chapter V. is on the Selfish Passions. He supposes these, 
 in regard to sympathy, to hold a middle place between the
 
 208 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— ADAM SMITH. 
 
 Bocial and the nnsocial. "We sympathize with small joys and 
 with great sorrows ; and not with great joys (which dispense 
 with our aid, if they do not excite our envy) or with small 
 troubles. 
 
 Section III. considers the effects of prosperity and adversity 
 upon the judgments of manhind regarding propriety of action. 
 
 Chapter I. puts forward the proposition that our sympathy 
 with sorrow, although more lively than our sympathy with 
 joy, falls short of the intensity of feeling in the person con- 
 cerned. It is agreeable to sympathize with joy, and we do so 
 with the heart ; the painfulness of entering into grief and 
 misery holds ns back. Hence, as he remarked before, the 
 magnanimity and nobleness of the man that represses his 
 woes, and does not exact our compassionate participation. 
 
 Chapter II. inquires into the origin of Ambition, and of 
 the distinction of Ranks. Proceeding upon the principle just 
 enounced, that mankind sympathize with joy rather than with 
 sorrow, the author composes an exceedingly eloquent homily 
 on the worship paid to rank and greatness. 
 
 Chapter III., in continuation of the same theme, illustrates 
 the corruption of our moral sentiments, arising from this 
 worship of the great. ' We frequently see the respectful 
 attentions of the world more strongly directed towards the 
 rich and the great, than towards the wise and the virtuous.* 
 * The external graces, the frivolous accomplishments of that 
 impertinent and foolish thing called a man of fashion, are 
 commonly more admired than the solid and masculine virtues 
 of a warrior, a statesman, a philosopher, or a legislator.* 
 
 Part II. is Of Merit and Demerit ; or of the objects op 
 Heward and Punishment. It consists of three Sections. 
 
 Section I. is, Of the Sense of Merit and Demerit, 
 
 Chapter I. maintains that whatever appears to be the 
 proper object of gratitude, appears to deserve reward ; and 
 that whatever appears to be the proper object of resentment, 
 appears to deserve punishment. The author distinguishes 
 between gratitude and mere love or liking ; and, obversely, 
 between resentment and hatred. Love makes ns pleased to 
 see any one promoted ; but gratitude urges us to be ourselves 
 the instrument of their promotion. 
 
 Chapter II. determines the proper objects of Gratitude and 
 Resentment, these being also the proper objects of Reward 
 and Punishment respectively. ' These, as well as all the 
 other passions of human nature, seem proper, and are approved 
 of, when the heart of every impartial sijeciator entirely sympathizes
 
 MERIT AND DEMERIT. 209 
 
 with them, when every indifferent bj-stander entirely enters 
 into, and goes along with them.' In short, a good moral 
 decision is obtained by the nnanimons vote of all impartial 
 persons. 
 
 This view is in accordance with the course taken by the 
 mind in the two contrasting situations. In sympathizing with 
 the joy of a prosperous person, we approve of his complacent 
 and grateful sentiment towards the author of his prosperity ; 
 we make his gratitude our own : in sympathizing with sorrow, 
 we enter into, and approve of, the natural resentment towards 
 the agent causing it. 
 
 Chapter III. remarks that where we do not approve of the 
 conduct of the person conferring the benefit, we have little 
 sympathy with the gratitude of the receiver ; we do not 
 care to enter into the gratitude of the favourites of profligate 
 monarchs. 
 
 Chapter lY. supposes the case of our approving strongly 
 the conduct and the motives of a benefactor, in which case we 
 sympathize to a correspondiag degree with the gratitude of 
 the receiver. 
 
 Chapter V. sums up the analysis of the Sense of Merit and 
 of Demerit thus : — The sense of Merit is a compound senti- 
 ment, made up of two distinct emotions ; a direct s^mipathy 
 with the sentiments of the agent (constituting the propriety 
 of the action), and an indirect sympathy with the gratitude of 
 the recipient. The sense of Demerit includes a direct anti- 
 pathy to the sentiments of the agent, and an indirect sym- 
 pathy with the resentment of the sufferer. 
 
 (Section II. is Of Justice and Beaeficnice. 
 
 Chapter I. compares the two virtues. Actions of a bene- 
 ficent tendency, from proper motives, seem aloie to require a 
 reward ; actions of a hurtful tendency, from improper motives, 
 seem alone to deserve punishment. It is the nature of Bene- 
 ficence to be free ; the mere absence of it does not expose to 
 punishment. Of all the duties of bene Sconce, the one most 
 allied to perfect obligation is gi^atitude ; but although we talk 
 of the debt of gratitude (we do not say the debt of charity'), 
 we do not punish ingratitude. 
 
 Resentment, the source of punishment, i'? given for defence 
 against positive evil ; we emploj^ it not to extort benefits, but to 
 repel injuries. Now, the injury is the violation of Justice. 
 The sense of mankind goes along with the employment of 
 violence to avenge the hurt done by injustice, to prevent the 
 injury, and to restrain the offender. Beneficence, then, is the
 
 210 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ADAM SMITH. 
 
 subject of reward ; and the want of it is not the subject (rf 
 punishment. There may be cases where a beneficent act is 
 compelled by punishment, as in obliging a father to support 
 his family, or in punishing a man for not interfering when 
 another is in danger ; but these cases are immaterial excep- 
 tions to the broad definition. He might have added, that in 
 cases where justice is performed under unusual difficulties, 
 and with unusual fidelity, our disposition would be not 
 merely to exempt from punishment, but to reward. 
 
 Chapter II. considers the sense of Justice, Remorse, and 
 the feeling of Merit. 
 
 Every man is recommended by nature to his own care, 
 being fitter to take care of himself than of another person. 
 We approve, therefore, of each one seeking their own good ; 
 but then it must not be to the hurt of any other being. The 
 primary feeling of self-preservation would not of itself, how- 
 ever, be shocked at causing injury to our fellows. It is when 
 we pass out of this point of view, and enter into the mental 
 state of the spectator of our actions, that we feel the sense of 
 injustice and the sting of Remorse. Though it may be true that 
 every individual in his own breast prefers himself to man- 
 kind, yet he dares not look mankind in the face, and avow 
 that he acts on this principle. A man is approved when he 
 outstrips his fellows in a fair race ; he is condemned when he 
 jostles or trips up a competitor unfairly. The actor takes 
 home to himself this feeling ; a feeling known as Shame, 
 Dread of Punishment, and Remorse. 
 
 So with the obverse. He that performs a generous action 
 can realize the sentiments of the by-stander, and applaud 
 himself by sympathy with the approbation of the supposed 
 impartial judge. This is the sense of Merit. 
 
 Chapter III. gives reflections upon the utility of this con- 
 stitution of our nature. Human beings are dependent upon 
 one another for mutual assistance, and are exposed to mutual 
 injuries. Society might exist without love or beneficence, 
 but not without mutual abstinence from injury. Beneficence 
 is the ornament that embellishes the building ; Justice the 
 main pillar that supports it. It is for the observance of 
 Justice that we need that consciousness of ill-desert, and those 
 terrors of mental punishment, growing out of our sympathy 
 with the disapprobation of our fellows. Justice is necessary 
 to the existence of society, and we otten defend its dictates on 
 that ground ; but, without looking to such a remote and com- 
 prehensive end, we are plunged into remorse for ^^^ v- '
 
 INFLUENCE OF FORTUNE ON MEKIT AND DEMERIT. 211 
 
 by the shorter process of referring to the censure of a sup- 
 posed spectator [in other words, to the sanction of public 
 opinion]. 
 
 Section III. — Of the influence of Fortune upon the senti- 
 ments of manlcind, ivith regard to the Merit and the Demerit of 
 actions. 
 
 Every voluntary action consists of three parts : — (1) the 
 Intention or motive, (2) the Mechanism, as when we lift the 
 hand, and give a blow, and (oj the Conset[uences. It is, in 
 principle, admitted by all, that only the first, the Intention, 
 can be the subject of blame. The Mechanism is in itself 
 indifferent. So the Consequences cannot be properly imputed 
 to the agent, unless intended by him. On this last point, 
 however, mankind do not always adhere to their general 
 maxim; when they come to particular cases, they are in- 
 fluenced, in their estimate of merit and demerit, by the actual 
 consequences of the action. 
 
 Cliapterl. considers the causes of this influence of Fortune. 
 Gratitude requires, in the first instance, that some pleasure 
 should have been conferred ; Kesentment pre-supposes pain. 
 These passions require farther that the object of them should 
 itself be susceptible of pleasure and pain ; they should be 
 human beings or animals. Thirdly, It is requisite that they 
 should have produced the effects from a design to do so. 
 Now, the absence of the pleasurable consequences intended by 
 a beneficent agent leaves out one of the exciting causes of 
 gratitude, although including another; the absence of the 
 painful consequences of a maleficent act leaves out one of 
 the exciting causes of resentment ; hence less gratitude seems 
 due in the one, and less resentment in the other. 
 
 Chapter II. treats of the extent of this influence of Fortune. 
 The effects of it are, first, to diminish, in our eyes, the merit 
 of laudable, and the demerit of blameable, actions, when they 
 fail of their intended effects ; and, secondly, to increase the 
 feelings of merit and of demerit beyond what is due to the 
 motives, when the actions chance to be followed by extra- 
 ordinary pleasure or pain. Success enhances our estimate of 
 all great enterprises ; failure takes off" the edge of our resent- 
 ment of great crimes. 
 
 The author thinks (Chapter III.) that final causes can be 
 assigned for this irregularity of Sentiments. In the first 
 place, it would be highly dangerous to seek out and to resent 
 mere bad intentions. In the next place, it is desirable that 
 beneficent wishes should be put to the proof by results. And,
 
 212 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ADAM SMITH. 
 
 lastly, as regards the tendency to resent evil, although iiil» 
 intended, it is good to a certain extent that men should be 
 taught intense circumspection on the point of infringing 
 one another's happiness. 
 
 Part III. is entitled Of the Foundation op our judgments 
 concerning our own sentiments and conduct, and of the 
 Sense of Duty. 
 
 Chapter I. is ' Of the Principle of Self-approbation and of 
 Self-disapprobation.' Having previously assigned the origin 
 of our judgments respecting others, the author now proceeds 
 to trace out our judgments respecting ourselves. The explana- 
 tion is still the same. We approve or disapprove of our own 
 conduct, according as we feel that the impartial spectator 
 would approve or disapprove of it. 
 
 To a solitary human being, moral judgments would never 
 exist. A man would no more think of the merit and demerit 
 of his sentiments than of the beauty or deformity of his own 
 face. Such criticism is exercised iirst upon other beings ; but 
 the critic cannot help seeing that he in his turn is criticised, 
 and he is thereby led to apply the common standard to his 
 own actions; to divide himself as it were into two persons — • 
 the examiner or judge, and person examined into, or judged 
 of. He knows what cooduct of his will be approved of by 
 others, and what condemned, according to the standard he 
 himself employs upon others ; his concurrence m this appro- 
 bation or disapprobation is self-approbation or self-disapproba- 
 tion. The happy consciousness of virtue is the consciousness 
 of the favourable regards of other men. 
 
 Chapter II. is ' Of the love of Praise, and of Praise- 
 worthiness ; the dread of Blame, and of Blame-worthiness ;' 
 a long and important chapter. The author endeavours to 
 trace, according to his principle of sympathy, the desire of 
 Praise-worthiness, as well as of Pi-aise. We approve certain 
 conduct in others, and are thus disposed to approve the same 
 conduct in ourselves : what we praise as judges of our fellow- 
 men, we deem praise-worthy, and aspire to realize in our own 
 conduct. Some men may differ from us, and may withhold 
 that praise; we may be pained at the circumstance, but we 
 adhere to our love of the praise-worthy, even when it does 
 not bring the praise. When we obtain the praise we are 
 pleased, and strengthened in our estimate ; the approbation 
 that we receive contirms our self-approbation, but does not 
 give birth to it. In short, there are two principles at work 
 within us. We are pleased with approbation, and pained by
 
 INFLUENCE AND AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 213 
 
 reproach : we are farther pleased if the approbation coin- 
 cides with what we approve when we are ourselves acting as 
 judges of other men. The two dispositions vary in their 
 strength in individuals, confirming each other when in 
 concert, thwarting each other when opposed. The author 
 has painted a number of striking situations arising out of 
 theii' conflict. He enquires why we are more pained by un- 
 merited reproach, than Hfted up by unmerited approbation ; 
 and assigns as the reason that the painful state is more 
 pungent than the corresponding pleasurable state. He shows 
 how those men whose productions are of uncertain merit, as 
 poets, are more the slaves of approbation, than the authors of 
 uumistakeable discoveries in science. In the extreme cases 
 of unmerited reproach, he points oat the appeal to the all- 
 seeing Judge of the world, and to a future state rightly con- 
 ceived ; protesting, however, against the view that would 
 reserve the celestial regions for monks and friars, and condemn 
 to the infernal, all the heroes, statesmen, poets, and philo- 
 sophers of former ages ; all the inventors of the useful arts ; 
 the protectors, instructors, and benefactors of mankind ; and 
 all those to whom our natural sense of praise-worthmess 
 forces us to ascribe the highest merit and most exalted virtue. 
 Chapter HI. is * On the inflaence and authority of Con- 
 science ;' another long chapter, occupied more with moral 
 reflections of a practical kind than with the following out of 
 the analysis of our moral sentiment. Conceding that the testi- 
 mony of the supposed impartial spectator does not of itself 
 always support a man, he yet asserts its inflaence to be great, 
 and that by it alone we can see what relates to ourselves in 
 the proper shape and dimensions. It is only in this way that 
 we can prefer the interest of many to the interest of one ; the 
 interest of others to our own. To fortify us in this hard 
 lesson two diflerent schemes have been proposed ; one to 
 increase our feelings for others, the other to diminish our 
 feelings for ourselves. The first is prescribed by the whining 
 and melancholy moralists, who will never allow us to be 
 happy, because at every moment many of our fellow-beings 
 are in misery. The second is the doctrine of the Stoics, who 
 annihilate self-interest in favour of the vast commonwealth 
 of nature ; on that the author bestows a lengthened comment 
 and correction, founded on his theory of regulating the mani. 
 festations of joy or grief by the light of the impartial judge. 
 He gives his own panacea for human misery, namely, the 
 power of nature to accommodate men to their permanent situ-
 
 214 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— ADA.M SMITH. 
 
 ation, and to restore tranquillity, which is the one secret of 
 happiness. 
 
 Chapter IV. handles Self-Deceit, and the Origin and Use 
 of General Rules. The interference of our passions is the 
 great obstacle to our holding towards ourselves the position 
 of an impartial spectator. From this notorious fact the author 
 deduces an argument against a special moral faculty, or moral 
 sense ; he says that if we had such a faculty, it would surely 
 judge our own passions, which are the most clearly laid open 
 to it, more correctly than the passions of others. 
 
 To correct our self-partiality and self-deceit is the u?e of 
 general rules. Our repeated observations on the tendency of 
 particular acts, teach us what is fit to be done generally ; and 
 our conviction of the propriety of the general rules is a power- 
 ful motive for applying them to our own case. It is a mistake 
 to suppose, as some have done, that rules precede experience ; 
 on the contrary, they are formed by finding fiom experience 
 that all actions of a certain kind, in certain circumstances, arv 
 appioved of. When established, we appeal to them as stan- 
 dards of judgment in right and wrong, but they are not the 
 original judgments of mankind, nor the ultimate foundations 
 of moral sentiment. 
 
 Chapter V. continues the subject of the authority and in- 
 fluence of General Rules, maintaining that they are justly 
 regarded as laws of the Deity. The grand advantngo of 
 general rules is to give steadiness to human conduct, and to 
 enable us to resist our temporary varieties of temper and dis- 
 position. They are thus a grand security for hunian duties. 
 That the important rules of morality should be accounted laws 
 of the Deity is a natural sentiment. Men have always ascribed 
 to their deities their own seniiments and passions; the deities 
 held by them in special reverence, they have endowed with 
 their highest ideal of excellence, the love of virtue and bene- 
 ficence, and the abhorieuce of vice and injustice. The re- 
 searches of philosophical inquiry confirmed mankind in the 
 suppobition that the moral faculties carry the badge of autho- 
 rity, that they were intended as the governing principles of 
 our nature, acting as the vicegerents of the Deity. This 
 inference is confirmed by the view that the happiness of men, 
 and of other rational creatures, is the original design of the 
 Author of nature, the only pui-po.-e recoiicilable wiih the 
 perfections we asciibe to him. 
 
 Chapter VI. is on the cases where the Sense of Duty 
 Bhoald be the sole motive of conduct : and on those where it
 
 THE EFFECT OF UTILITY ON MORAL APPROBATION. 215 
 
 oaght to join with other motives. Allowing the import- 
 ance of religiou among hnman motives, he does not concur 
 with the view that would make religious considerations the 
 sole laudable motives of action. The sense of duty is not the 
 only principle of our conduct ; it is the ruling or governing 
 one. It may be a question, however, on what occasions we 
 aie to proceed strictly by the sense of duty, and on what 
 occasions give way to some other sentiment or affection. The 
 author answers that in the actions prompted by benevolent 
 affections, we are to follow out our sentiments as much aa 
 oar sense of duty; and the contrary with the malevolent 
 passions. As to the selfish passions, we are to follow duty in 
 small matters, and self-interest in great. But the rules of 
 duty predominate most in cases where they are determined 
 \^dth exactness, that is, in the virtue of Justice. 
 
 Part IY. Of the effect of Utility upon tre Sentiment 
 OF Approbation. 
 
 Chapter I. is on the Beauty arising out of Utility. It is 
 here that the author sets forth the dismal career of ' the poor 
 man's son, whom heaven in the hour of her anger has curst 
 with ambition,' and enforces his favourite moral lesson of 
 contentment and tranquillity. 
 
 Chapter II. is the connexion of Utility with Moral Appro- 
 bation. Tliere are many actions possessing the kind of beauty 
 or charm arising from utility ; and hence, it may be main- 
 tained (as was done by Hume) that our whole approbation of 
 virtue may be explained on this principle. And it may be 
 granted that there is a coincidence between our sentiments 
 of approbation or disapprobation, and the useful or hurtful 
 qualities of actions. Still, the author holds that this utility 
 or hurtfulness is not the foremost or principal source of our 
 approbation. In the first place, he thinks it incongruous that 
 we should have no other reason for praising a man than for 
 praising a chest of drawers. In the next place, he contends at 
 length that the uselulness of a disposition of mind is seldom 
 the first ground of our approbation. Take, for example, the 
 qualities useful to ourselves — reason and self-command ; we 
 approve the first as just and accurate, before we are aware of 
 its being useful ; and as to self-command, we approve it quite 
 as much for its propriety as for its utility ; it is the coincidence 
 of our opinion with the opinion of the spectator, and not au 
 estimate of the comparative utility, that affects us. Regarding^ 
 the qualities useful to others — huinanitv-, generosity, public 
 spirit and justice — he merely repeats bis own theory that they
 
 216 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— ADAM SMITH. 
 
 are approved by our entering into the view of the impartial 
 spectator. The examples cited only show that these virtues 
 are not approved from self-interest ; as when the soldier throws 
 away his life to gain something for his sovereign. He also 
 puts the case of a solitary human being, who might see fitness 
 in actions, but could not feel moral approbation. 
 
 Part V. The ofluence of Custom on the Moral Senti- 
 ments. The first chapter is a pleasing essay on the influence 
 of custom and fashion on manners, dress, and in Fine Art 
 generally. The second chapter makes the application to our 
 moral sentiments. Although custom will never reconcile us to 
 the conduct of a Nero or a Claudius, it will heighten or blunt 
 the delicacy of our sentiments on right and wrong. The fashion 
 of the times of Charles II. made dissoluteness reputable, and 
 discountenanced regularity of conduct. There is a custom- 
 ary behaviour that we expect in the old and in the young, 
 in the clergyman and in the military man. The situations of 
 different ages and countries develop characteristic qualities — 
 endurance in the savage, humanity and softness in the civilized 
 community. Bat these are not the extreme instances of the 
 principle. We find particular usages, where custom has ren 
 dered lawful and blameless actions, that shock the plainest 
 principles of right and wrong; the most notorious and universal 
 is infanticide. 
 
 Part VI. The character of Virtue. 
 
 Section I. is on Frudence, and is an elegant essay on the 
 leau ideal of the prudential character Section II. considers 
 character as affecting other people. Chapter L is a disquisition 
 on the comparative priority of the objects of our regard. 
 After self, which must ever have the first place, the members 
 of our own family are recommended to our consideration. 
 Remoter connexions of blood are more or less regarded 
 according to the customs of the country ; in pastoral countries 
 clanship is manifested ; in commercial countries distant rela- 
 tionship becomes indifferent. Official and business connexions, 
 and the association of neighbourhood, determine friendships. 
 Special estimation is a still preferable tie. Favours received 
 determine and require favours in return. The distinction of 
 ranks is so far founded in nature as to deserve our respect. 
 Lastly, the miserable are recommended to our compassion. 
 Next, as regards societies (Chap. 11. ), since our own country 
 stands first in our regard, the author dilates on the virtues of 
 a good citizen. Finally, although our effectual good ofiices 
 may not extend beyond our country, our good-will may
 
 THE VIRTUES. 217 
 
 embrace tlie whole universe. This universal benevolence, 
 however, the author thinks must repose on the belief in a 
 benevolent and all-wise governor of the world, as realized, for 
 example, in the meditations of Marcus Antoninus. 
 
 Section III. Of Self-command. On this topic the author 
 produces a splendid moral essay, in which he describes the 
 various modes of our self- estimation, and draws a contrast 
 between pride and vanity. In so far as concerns his Ethical 
 tbeory, he has still tbe same criterion of the virtue, the degree 
 and mode commended by the impartial spectator. 
 
 Part YII. Of Systems of Moral Philosophy. On this 
 we need only to remark that it is aa interesting and valuable 
 contribution to the history and the criticism of the Ethical 
 systems.* 
 
 The Ethical theory of Adam Smith may be thus summed 
 
 I. — The Ethical Standard is the judgment of an impartial 
 spectator or critic ; and our own judgments are derived by 
 reference to what this spectator would approve or disapprove. 
 
 Probably to no one has this ever appeared a sufficient 
 account of Right and Wroug. It provides against one defect, 
 the self-partiality of the agent ; but gives no account whatever 
 of the grounds of the critic's own judgment, and makes no 
 provision against his fallibility. It may be very well on points 
 where men's moral sentiments are tolerably unanimous, but it 
 
 • It is perhaps worth while to quote a sentence or two, giving the 
 author's opinion on the theory of the Moral Sense. ' Aj^ainst every 
 account of the principle of apprt b ition, which makes it depend upon a 
 peculiar sentiment, distinct from every other, I would object, that it is 
 strange that this sentiment, which Providence undoubtedly intended to 
 be the governing principle of human nature, should hitherto have been 
 so little taken notice of, as not to have ijot a name in any language. The 
 ■word Moral Sense is of very late formation, and cannot yet be considered 
 as making part of the English tongue. The word approbation has but 
 within these few years been iippropr.ated to denote peculiarly anything 
 of this kind. In proprit ty of Ian uage we approve of whatever is entirely 
 to our Satisfaction — of the form of a building, of the contrivance of a 
 machine, of the flavour of a dish of meat. The word conscience does not 
 immediately denote any moral faculty by which we approve or disapprove. 
 C<mscience supposes, indeed, the existence of some such faculty, and 
 properly signifies our consciousness of having acted agreeably or contrary 
 to its directions. When love, hatred, joy, sorrow, gratitude, res-ntment, 
 with so many other passions whi'-h are all supposed to be the subjects of 
 this principle, have made themselves considerable enough to get titles to 
 know them by, is it not surprising that the sovereign of them all should 
 hitherto have been so little heeded ; that, a few philosophers excepted, 
 nobody Las yet thought it worth while to bestow a name upon itf ' 
 10
 
 218 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— ADAM SMITH. 
 
 is valueless in all questions where there are fundamental 
 differences of view. 
 
 II. — In the Psychology of Ethics, Smith would consider th« 
 moral Faculty as identical with the power of Sympathy, which 
 he treats as the foundation of Benevolence. A man is a moral 
 being in proportion as he can enter into, and realize, the 
 feelings, sentiments, and opinions of others. 
 
 Now, as morality would never have existed but for the 
 necessity of protecting one human being against another, the 
 power of the mind that adopts other people's interests and 
 views must always be of vital moment as a spring of moral 
 conduct ; and Adam Smith has done great service in develop- 
 ing the workings of the sympathetic impulse. 
 
 He does not discuss Free-will. On the question of Disin- 
 terested Conduct, he gives no clear opinion. While denying 
 that our sympathetic impulses area refinement of self-love, he 
 would seem to admit that they bring their own pleasure with 
 them; so that, after all, they do not detract from our happi- 
 ness. In other places, he recognizes self-sacrifice, but gives 
 no analysis of the motives that lead to it ; and seems to think, 
 with many other moralists, that it requires a compensation in 
 the next world. 
 
 III. — His theory of the constituents of Happiness is 
 simple, primitive, and crude, but is given with earnest convic- 
 tion. Ambition he laughs to scorn. ' What, he asks, can be 
 added to the happiness of the man who is in health, out of 
 debt, and has a clear conscience ? ' Again, ' the chief part of 
 happiness consists in the consciousness of being beloved, 
 hence, sudden changes of fortune seldom contribnte to happi- 
 ness.' But what he dwells upon most persistently, as the 
 prime condition of happiness, is Contentment, and Tranquillity. 
 
 IV. — On the Moral Code, he has nothing peculiar. As to 
 the means and inducements to morality, he does not avail 
 himself of the fertility of his own principle of Sympathy. 
 Appeals to S3^mpathy, and the cultivation of the power of 
 entering into the feelings of others, could easily be shown to 
 play a high part in efiicacious moral suasion. 
 
 V. — He affords little or no grounds for remarking on the 
 connexion of Morality with Politics. Our duties as citizens 
 are a part of Morality, and that is all. 
 
 VI. — He gives his views on the alliance of Ethics with 
 Religion. He does not admit that we should refer to the 
 Religious sanction on all occasions. He assumes a bene- 
 volent and all- wise Governor of the world, who will ultimately
 
 GKOWTH OF DISINTERESTED FEELING. 219 
 
 redress all inequalities, and remedy all ontstanding injustice. 
 What this Being approves, however, is to be inferred solely 
 from the principles of benevolence. Our regard for him is to 
 be shown, not by ftivolous observances, sacrifices, ceremonies, 
 and vain supplications, but by just and beneficent actions. 
 The author studiously ignores a revelation, and constructs for 
 himself a Natural Religion, grounded on a benevolent and 
 just administration of the universe. 
 
 In Smith's Essay, the purely scientific enquiry is overlaid 
 by practical and hortatory dissertations, and by eloquent de- 
 lineations of character and of beau-ideals of virtuous conduct. 
 His style being thus pitched to the popular key, he never 
 pushes home a metaphysical analysis ; so that even his 
 favourite theme, Sympathy, is not philosophically sifted to 
 the bottom. 
 
 DAVID HARTLEY. [1705-1757.] 
 
 The 'Observations on Man' (1749) is the first systematic 
 effort to explain the phenomena of mind by the Law of 
 Association. It contains also a philosophical hypothesis, that 
 mental states are produced by the vibration of infinitesimal par- 
 ticles of the nerves. This analogy, borrowed from the undu- 
 lations of the hypothetical substance eether, has been censured 
 as crude, and has been entirely superseded. But, although 
 an imperfect analogy, it nevertheless kept constantly before 
 the mind of Hartley the double aspect of all mental pheno- 
 mena, thus preventing erroneous explanations, and often 
 suggesting correct ones. In this respect, Aristotle and Hobbes 
 are the only persons that can be named as equally fortunate. 
 
 The ethical remarks contained in the ' Observations,' 
 relate only to the second head of summary, the Psychology of 
 Ethics. We shall take, first, the account of disinterestedness, 
 and, next, of the moral sense. 
 
 1. Disinterestedness. Under the name Sympatluj, Hartley 
 includes four kinds of feelings: — (1) Rejoicing at the happi- 
 ness of others — Sociality, Good- will. Generosity, Gratitude; 
 
 (2) Grieving for the misery of others — Compassion, Mercy; 
 
 (3) Rejoicing at the misery of others — Anger, Jealousy, 
 Cruelty, Malice; and (4) Grieving for the happiness of others 
 —Emulation, Envy. All these feelings may be shown to 
 originate in association. We select as examples of Hartley's 
 method, Benevolence and Compassion. Benevolence is the 
 pleasing afiection that prompts us to act for the benefit of 
 others. It is not a primitive feeling ; but grows out of such
 
 220 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — HARTLEY. 
 
 oircTira stances as the following'. Almost all the pleasures, 
 and few, in comparison, of the pains, of children, are caused 
 by others; who are thus, in the course of time, regarded 
 with pleasure, independently of their usefulness to us. 
 Many of our pleasures are enjoyed along with, and are 
 enhanced by, the presence of others. This tends to make us 
 more sociable. Moreover, we are taught and required to put 
 on the appearance of good-will, and to do kindly actions, and 
 this may beget in us the proper feelin-:^'^. Finally, we must 
 take into account the praise and rewards of benevolence, 
 together with the reciprocity of benefits that we may justly 
 expect. All those elements may be so mixed and blended as 
 to produce a feeling that shall teach us to do good to others 
 without any expectation of reward, even that most refined 
 recompense — the pleasure arising from a beneficent act. 
 Thus Hartley conceives that he both proves the existence of 
 disinterested feeling, and explains the manner of its develope- 
 ment. 
 
 His account of Compassion is similar. In the young, the 
 signs and appearances of distress excite a painful feeling, by 
 recalling their own experience of misery. In the old, the 
 connexion between a feeling and its adjuncts has been 
 weakened by experience. Also, when children are brought 
 up together, they are often annoyed by the same things, and 
 this tends powerfully to create a fellow-feeling. Again, when 
 their parents are ill, they are taught to cultivate pity, and 
 are also subjected to unusual restraints. All those things 
 conspire to make children desire to remove the sufferings of 
 others. Various circumstances increase the feeling of pity, as 
 when the sufferers are beloved by us, or are morally good. 
 It is confirmatory of this view, that the most compassionate 
 are those whose nerves are easily irritable, or whose ex- 
 perience of affliction has been considerable. 
 
 2. — The Moral Sense. Hartley denies the existence of any 
 moral instinct, or any moral judgments, proceeding upon the 
 eternal relations of things. If there be such, let instances of 
 them be produced prior to the influence of associations. Still, 
 our moral approbation or disapprobation is disinterested, and 
 has a factitious independence. (1) Children are taught what 
 is right and wrong, and thus the associations connected with 
 the idea of piaise and blame are transferred to the virtues 
 inculcated and the vices condemned. (2) Many vices and 
 virtues, such as sensuality, intemperance, malice, and the 
 opposites, produce immediate conse<][ueuces of evil and good
 
 THE MORAL SENSE. 221 
 
 respectively. (3) The benefits, immediate or (at least) 
 obvious, flowing from the virtues of others, kindle love 
 towards them, and thereafter to the virtues they exliibit. 
 (4) Another consideration is the loveliness of virtue, arising 
 from the suitableness of the virtues to each other, and to the 
 beauty, order, and perfection of the world. (5) The hopes 
 and fears connected with a future life, strengthen the feelings 
 connected with virtue. (6) Meditation upon God and prayer 
 have a like effect. * All the pleasures and pains of sensation, 
 imagination, ambition (pride and vanity), self-interest, sym- 
 pathy, and theopathy (affection towards God), as far as they 
 are consistent with one another, with the frame of our natures, 
 and with the course of the world, beget in us a moral sense, 
 and lead us to the love and approbation of virtue, and to the 
 fear, hatred, and abhorrence of vice. This moral sense, 
 therefore, carries its own authority with it, inasmuch as it is 
 the sum total of all the rest, and the ultimate result from 
 them ; and employs the whole force and authority of the 
 wliole nature of man against any particular pa,rt of it that 
 rebels against the determinations and commands of the con- 
 science or moral judgment.' 
 
 Hartley's analysis of the moral sense is a great advance 
 upon Hobbes and Mandeville, who make self-love the imme- 
 diate constituent, iustead of a remoce cause, of conscience. 
 Our moral consciousness may thus be treated as peculiar and 
 distinguishable from other mental states, while at the same 
 time it is denied to be unique and irresolvable. 
 
 THOMAS REID.* [1710-96.] 
 
 Reid's Ethical views are given in his Essays on the Active 
 Powei-s of the Mind. 
 
 * Adam Ferguson (1724-1816), is not of sufficient importance in purely 
 Etliical theory to demand a fail abstrHct. The following remark on his 
 views is made hy Professor Veitch : — ' Ferguson, while holding with 
 Reid that the notion of llightncss is not resolvable into utility, or to be 
 derived from sympathy or a mora' sense, goes a 8tep beyord both Held 
 and Stewart in the inquiry which he raises regarding the definite nature 
 and ground of Kightness itself.' The following is his definition of Moral 
 Good: — 'Moral good is the specific exctlleiice and felicity of human 
 nature, and moral depravity its specific defect and wretchedness.' The 
 'excellence' of human nature consists in four things, drawn out after 
 the analf.gy of the cardinal virtues: (1) .S/.;/// (Wisdom) ; {1) Benevolence^ 
 the principal excellence of a creature destined to perform a part in 
 social life (Justice); {Z) Application of invid {Vem^evAnca)', (^4) Force, or 
 energy to overcome obstacles (Fortitude). Regarding the motive$ to
 
 222 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — REID. 
 
 Essay IIL, entitled The Principles of Action, contains 
 (Part Iir.) a disquisition on the Rational Principles of Action^ 
 as opposed to what Reid calls respectively Mechanical Prin- 
 ciples (Instinct, Habit), and Animal Principles (Appetites, 
 Desires, Affections). 
 
 The Rational Principles of Action are Prndence, or regard 
 to onr own good on the whole, and Dut}^, which, however, he 
 does not define by the antithetical circumstance — the 'good 
 of others.' The notion of Duty, he says, is too simple for 
 logical definition, and can only be explained by synonymes — 
 trliat we ought to do ; what is fair and honest; what is approv- 
 able ; the professed rule of men's conduct ; what all men praise; 
 the laudable in itself, though no man praise it. 
 
 Duty, he says, cannot be resolved into Interest. The 
 language of mankind makes the two distinct. Disregard of 
 onr interest is folly ; of honour, baseness. Honour is more 
 than mere reputation, for it keeps us right when we are 
 not seen. This principle of Honour (so-called by men of rank) 
 is, in vnlgar phrase, honesty, probity, virtue, conscience ; in 
 philosophical language, the moral sense, the moral faculty, 
 rectitude. 
 
 The principle is universal in men grown up to years 
 of understanding. Such a testimony as Hume's may be 
 held decisive on the reality of moral distinctions. The 
 ancient world recognized it in the leading terms, honestum and 
 utile, &c. 
 
 The abstract notion of Duty is a relation between the action 
 and the agent. It must be voluntary, and within the power 
 ot the agent. The opinion (or intention) of the agent gives 
 the act its moral quality. 
 
 As to the Sense of Duty, Reid pronounces at once, without 
 hesitation, and with very little examination, in favour of an 
 original power or faculty, in other words, a Moral Sense. 
 Intellectual judgments are judgments of the external senses; 
 moral judgments result from an internal moral sense. The 
 external senses give us our intellectual first principles; the 
 moral sense our moral first principles. He is at pains 
 to exemplify the deductive process in morals. It is a question 
 of moral reasoning. Ought a man to have only one wife ? 
 
 virtue, either virtue is its own reward, or divine rewards and punish- 
 ments constitute a sanction; but, in any case, the motive is our own 
 happiness All the virtues enumeiated are themselves useful or pleasant, 
 but, over and above, they tiive rise to an additional pleasure, when they 
 are made the subject of reflection.
 
 CONSCIENCE AN ORIGINAX POWER OF THE MIND. 223 
 
 The reasons are, the greater good of the family, and of society 
 in general ; but no reason can be given why we should prefer 
 greater good ; it is an intuition of the moral sense. 
 
 He sums up the chapter thus : — ' That, by an original 
 power of the mind, which we call conscience^ or the moral 
 faculty, we have the conceptions of right and wrong in human 
 conduct, of merit and demerit, of duty and moral obligation, 
 and our other moral conceptions ; and that, by the same 
 faculty, we perceive some things in human conduct to be 
 right, and others to be wrong; that the first principles of 
 morals are the dictates of this faculty ; and that we have the 
 same reason to rely upon those dictates, as upon the determi- 
 nations of our senses, or of our other natural faculties.* 
 Hamilton remarks that this theory virtually founds morality 
 on intelligence. 
 
 Moral Approbation is the affection and esteem accompany- 
 ing our judgment of a right moral act. This is in all cases 
 pleasurable, but most so, when the act is our own. So, ob- 
 versely, for Moral Disapprobation. 
 
 Regarding Conscience, Reid remarks, first, that like all 
 other powers it comes to maturity by insensible degrees, and 
 may be a subject of culture or education. He takes no note of 
 the difficulty of determining what is primitive and what 
 is acquired. Secondly, Conscience is peculiar to man ; it 
 is wanting in the brutes. Thirdly, it is evidently intended 
 to be the director of our conduct ; and fourthly, it is an Active 
 power and an Intellectual power combined. 
 
 Essay IV. is Of the Liberty of Moral Agents, which we 
 pass by, having noticed it elsewhere. Essay V. is Op 
 Morals. 
 
 Chapter I. professes to enumerate the axiomatic first prin- 
 ciples of Morals. Som«. of these relate (A) to virtue in general : 
 as (1) There are actions deserving of praise, and others de- 
 serving blame; (2) the involuntary is not an object of praise 
 or blame ; (3) the unavoidable is not an object of praise or 
 blame; (4) omission may be culpable; (5) we ought to in- 
 form ourselves as to duty; (6) we should fortify ourselves 
 against temptation. Other principles relate (B) to particular 
 virtues: (1) We should prefer a greater good to a less; (2) 
 we should comply with the intention of nature, apparent in 
 our conscitution ; (8) no man is born for himself alone ; (4) 
 we should judge accoraing to the rule, ' Do to others,' &c. ; 
 (5) if we believe in God, we should venerate and submit to 
 him. A third class of principles (C) settle the preference
 
 224 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — REID. 
 
 among opposing virtues. Thus, unmerited generosity should 
 yield to gratitude, and both to justice. 
 
 Chapter II. remarks upon the growth and peculiar advan- 
 tages of Systems of Morals. Chapter III. is on Systems of 
 Natural Jurisprudence. The four subsequent chapters of the 
 Essay he states to have been composed in answer to the Ethi- 
 cal doctrines of Hume. 
 
 Chapter IV. enquires whether a moral action must proceed 
 from a moral purpose in the agent. He decides in the affir- 
 mative, replying to certain objections, and more especially to 
 the allegation of Hume, that justice is not a natural, but an 
 artificial virtue. This last question is pursued at great length 
 in Chapter V., and the author takes occasion to review the 
 theory of Utility or Benevolence, set up by Hume as the basis 
 of morals. He gives Hume the credit of having made an im- 
 portant step in advance of the Epicurean, or Selfish, system, 
 by including the good of others, as well as our own good, in 
 moral acts. Still, he demands why, if Utility and Virtue are 
 identical, the same name should not express both. It is true, 
 that virtue is both agreeable and useful in the highest degree ; 
 but that circumstance does not prevent it from having a quality 
 of its own, not arising from its being useful and agreeable, but 
 arising from its being virtue. The common good of society, 
 though a pleasing object to all men, hardly ever enters into 
 the thoughts of the great majority ; and, if a regard to it were 
 the sole motive of justice, only a select number would ever be 
 possessed of the virtue. The notion of justice carries inse- 
 parably along with it a notion of moral obligation ; and no 
 act can be called an act of justice unless prompted by the 
 motive of justice. 
 
 Then, again, good music and good cookery have the merit 
 of utility, in procuring what is agreeable both to ourselves and 
 to society, but they have never been denominated moral virtues ; 
 so that, if Hume's system be true, they have been very unfairly 
 treated. 
 
 Reid illustrates his positions against Hume to a length 
 unnecessary to follow. The objections are exclusively and 
 effectively aimed at the two unguarded points of the Utility 
 system as propounded by Hume ; namely, first, the not recog- 
 nizing moral rules as established and enforced among men by 
 the dictation of authority, which does not leave to individuals 
 the power of reference to ultimate ends ; and, secondly, the 
 not distinguishing between obligatory, and non-obligatory, 
 useful acts.
 
 ARGUMENTS FOR INTUITIVE MORALITY. 225 
 
 Reid continues the controversy, with reference to Justice, 
 in Chapter VI., on the Nature and Obligation of a Contract; 
 and in Chapter YII. maintains, in opposition to Hume, that 
 Moral approbation implies a Judgment of the intellect, and is 
 not a mere feeling, as Hume seems to think. He allows the 
 propriety of the phrase ' Moral Sentiment,' because ' Senti- 
 ment' in English means judgment accompanied with feeling. 
 [Hamilton dissents, and thinks that sentiment means the 
 higher feelings.] He says, if a moral judgment be no real 
 judgment, but only a feeling, morals have no foundation but 
 the arbitrary structure of the mind ; there are no immutable 
 moral distinctions ; and no evidence for the moral character 
 of the Deity. 
 
 We shall find the views of Reid substantially adopted, and 
 a little more closely and concisely argued, by Stewart. 
 
 DUGALD STEWART. [1753-1828.] 
 
 In his ' Essays on the Active Powers of the Mind,' Stewart 
 introduces the Moral Faculty in the same way as Reid. 
 Book Second is entitled Oqb Kational and Goverxixg Prin- 
 ciples OF Action. Chapter L, on Prudence or Self-love, 
 is unimportant for our present purpose, consisting of some 
 desultory remarks on the connexion of happiness with steadi- 
 ness of purpose, and on the meanings of the words 'self-love' 
 and ' selfishness.' 
 
 Chapter II. is on T^e Mo -al Faculty, and is intended to 
 show that it is an original principle of the mind. He first 
 replies to the theory that identifies Morality with Prudence, 
 or Self-love. His first argument is the existence in all lan- 
 guages of different words for duty and for interest. Secondly, 
 The emotions arising from the contemplation of right and 
 wrong are different from those produced by a regard to our 
 own happiness. Thirdly, althoagh in most instances a sense 
 of duty, and an enlightened regard to our own happiness, 
 would suggest to us the same line of conduct, yet this truth 
 is not obvious to mankind generally, who are incapable of 
 appreciating enlarged views and remote consequences. He 
 repeats the common remark, that we secure our happiness 
 best by not looking to it as thi} one primary end. Fourthly, 
 moral judgments appear in children, long before they can 
 form the general notion of happiness. His examples of this 
 position, however, have exclusive reference to the sentiment 
 of pity, which all moralists regard as a primitive feeling, 
 while few admit it to be the same as the moral sense.
 
 226 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — STEWART. 
 
 He then takes notice of the Association Theory of Hartley, 
 Paley, and others, which he admits to be a great refinement 
 of the old selfish system, and an answer to one of his argu- 
 ments. He maintains, nevertheless, that the others are 
 untouched by it, and more esiDecially the third, referring 
 to the amount of experience and reflection necessary to dis- 
 cover the tendency of virtue to promote our happiness, which 
 is inconsistent with the early period when our moral judgments 
 appear. [It is singular that he should not have remarked 
 that the moral judgments of that early age, if we except what 
 springs from the impulses of pity, are wholly communicated 
 by others.] He quotes Paley 's reasoning against the Moral 
 Sense, and declares that he has as completely mis-stated the 
 issue, as if one were to contend that because we are not born 
 with the knowledge of light and colours, therefore the sense 
 of seeing is not an original part of the frame. [It would be 
 easy to retort that all that Paley 's case demanded was the 
 same power of discrimination in moral judgments, as the power 
 of discriminating light and dark belonging to our sense of 
 sight.] 
 
 Chapter III. continues the subject, and examines objections. 
 The first objection taken up is that derived from the influence 
 of education, with which he combines the farther objection (of 
 Locke and his followers) arising from the diversity of men's 
 moral judgments in various nations. With regard to education, 
 he contends that there are limits to its influence, and that 
 however it may modify, it cannot create our judgments of 
 right and wrong, any more than our notions of beauty and 
 deformity. As to the historical facts relating to the diversity 
 of moral judgments, he considers it necessary to make full 
 allowance for three circumstances — I. — Diflerence of situation 
 with regard to climate and civilization. II. — Diversity of 
 speculative opinions, arising from difference of intellectual 
 capacity ; and, III. — The different moral import of the same 
 action under diff'erent systems of behaviour. On the first 
 head he explains the indifference to theft from there being 
 little or no fixed property ; he adduces the variety of sentiments 
 respecting Usury, as having reference to circumstances ; and 
 alludes to the differences of men's views as to political assassin- 
 ation. On the second head he remarks, that men may agree 
 on ends^ but may take different views as to means ; they may 
 agree in recognizing obedience to the Deity, but differ in their 
 interpretations of his will. On the third point, as regards the 
 diff'erent moral import of the same action, he suggests that
 
 MORAL OBLIGATION. 227 
 
 Locke's instance of the killing of aged parents is merely the 
 recognized mode of filial affection ; he also quotes the exceed- 
 ing variety of ceremonial observances. 
 
 Chapter lY. comments farther on the objections to the 
 reality and immutability of moral distinctions and to the 
 universal diffusion of the moral faculty. The reference is, in 
 the first instance, to Locke, and then to what he terms, after 
 Adam Smith, the licentious moralists — La Rochefoucauld and 
 Mandeville. The replies to these writers contain nothing 
 special to Stewart. 
 
 Chapter V. is the Analysis of our Moral Perceptions and 
 Emotions. This is a somewhat singular phrase in an author 
 recognizing a separate inborn faculty of Right. His analysis 
 consists in a separation of the entire fact into three parts : — 
 (1) the perception of an action as right or wrong; (2) an 
 emotion of pleasure or pain, varying according to the moral 
 sensibility: (3) a perception of the merit or demerit of the 
 agent. The first is of course the main question ; and the 
 author gives a long review of the history of Ethical doctrines 
 from Hobbes downwards, interspersing reflections and criti- 
 cisms, all in favour of the intuitive origin of the sense. As 
 illustrative parallels, he adduces Personal Identity, Causation, 
 and Equality ; all which he considers to be judgments in- 
 volving simple ideas, and traceable only to some primitive 
 power of the mind. He could as ca i'y conceive a rational 
 being formed to believe the three angles of a triangle to be 
 equal to one right angle, as to believe that there would be no 
 injustice in depriving a man of the fruits of his labours. 
 
 On the second poiat— the pleasure and pain accompanying 
 right and wrong, he remarks on the one-sidedness of systems 
 that treat the sense of riofht and wrou^ as an intellectual 
 judgment purely (Clarke, &c.), or those that treat it as a 
 feeling purely (Shattesbury, Hutcheson, and Hume). His 
 remarks on the sense of Merit and Demerit in the agent are 
 trivial or commonplace. 
 
 Chapter VL is ' Of Moral Obligation.' It is needless to 
 follow him on this subject, as his views are substantially a 
 repetition of Butler's Supremacj'- of Conscience. At the same 
 lime, it may be doubted whether Burler entirely and unequi- 
 vocally detached this supremacy from the command of the 
 Deity, a point peculiarly insisted on by Stewart. His words 
 are these : — 
 
 * According to some systems, moral obligation is founded 
 entirely on our belief that virtue is enjoined by the command of
 
 228 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — STEWART. 
 
 God. But howj it may be asked, does this belief impose an obli- 
 gation ? Only one of two answers can be given. Either that 
 there is a moral fitness that we should conform our will to that of 
 the Author and the Governor of the universe ; or that a rational 
 self-love should induce ns, from motives of prudence, to study 
 every means of rendering ourselves acceptable to the Almighty 
 Arbiter of happiness and misery. On the first supposition we 
 reason in a circle. We resolve our sense of moral obligation into 
 our sense of religion, and the sense of religion into that of moral 
 obligation. 
 
 * The other system, which makes virtue a mere matter of pru- 
 dence, although not so obviously unsatisfactory, leads to conse- 
 quences which suificiently invalidate every argument in its favour. 
 Among others it leads us to conclude, 1. That the disbelief of a 
 future state absolves from all moral obligation, excepting in so 
 far as we find virtue to be conducive to our present interest : 
 2. That a being independently and completely happy cannot have 
 any moral perceptions or any moral attributes. 
 
 * But farther, the notions of reward and punishment presuppose 
 the notions of right and wrong. They are sanctions of virtue, or 
 additional motives to the practice of it, but they suppose the 
 existence of some previoiis oblig.ition. 
 
 ' In the last place, if moral obligation be constituted by a regard 
 to our situation in another life, how shall the existence of a future 
 state be proved, or even rendered probable by the light of nature ? 
 or how shall we discover what conduct is acceptable to the Deity ? 
 The truth is, that the strongest presumption for such a state is 
 deduced from our natural notions of right and wrong ; of merit 
 and demerit ; and h\j.a a comparison between these and the 
 general course of human affairs.' 
 
 In a chapter (VII.) entitled ' certain principles co-operat- 
 ing with our moral powers,' he discusses (1) a regard to 
 character, (2) Sympathy, (3) the Sense of the Ridiculous, 
 (4) Taste. The important topic is the second, Sympathy ; 
 which, psychologically, he would appear to regard as deter- 
 mined by the pleasure that it gives. Under this head he 
 introduces a criiicism of the Ethical theory of Adam Smith ; 
 and, adverting to the inadequacy of the theory to distinguish 
 the rigid from the actual judgments of mankind, he remarks 
 on Smith's ingenious fiction ' of an ahsiract man within the 
 breast ;' and states that Smith laid much greater stress on 
 this fiction in the last edition of the Moral Sentiments 
 published before his death. It is not without reason that 
 Stewart warns against grounding theories on metaphorical 
 expressions, such as this of Smith, or the Platonic Common- 
 wealth of the Soul. 
 
 In Book IV. of the Active Powers, Stewart discusses our
 
 DUTIES. — HAPPINESS. 229 
 
 Dnties to Men, — both our fellow- creatures and ourselves. 
 Our duties to our fellows are summed up in Benevolence, 
 Justice, and Veracity. He devotes a chapter to each. In 
 Chapter I., on Benevolence, he re-opens the consideration of 
 the Ethical systems founded on Benevolence or Utility, and 
 argues against them ; but merely repeats the common-place 
 objections — the incompetency of individuals to judge of remote 
 tendencies, the pretext that would be afforded for the worst 
 conduct, and each one's consciousness that a sense of duty is 
 different from enlightened benevolence. 
 
 Chapter 11. is on Justice ; defined as the disposition that 
 leads a man, where his own interests or passions are con- 
 cerned, to act according to the judgment he would form of 
 another man's duty in his situation. He introduces a criti- 
 cism on Adam Smith, and re-asserts the doctrine of an innate 
 faculty, explained as the looiuer of forming moral ideas, and 
 not as the innate possession of ideas. For the most part, his 
 exposition is didactic and desultory, with occasional discus- 
 sions 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 observa- 
 tions on the Riglit of Property. 
 
 In Chapter III., on Veracity, he contends that considera- 
 tions of utility do not account for the whole force of our 
 approbation of this virtue. [So might any one say that con- 
 siderations of what money can purchase do not account for the 
 whole strength of avariocj. 
 
 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 Happi- 
 ness. 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 attach- 
 ment 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
 
 230 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — STEWART. 
 
 onr enjoyments or our sufferings by the respective pPB- 
 dominance 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 comraenda 
 this subject to the care of educators ; giving, as an example, 
 the tendency of associations with Grreece 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 bene- 
 volent 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 inten- 
 tions of the agent are to be looked to ; the enlightened dis- 
 charge of our duty often demands an exercise of the Reason
 
 SUMMAEY OF VIEWS. 231 
 
 to adjndge between conflicting claims ; there is a close rela- 
 tionship, not defined, between Ethics and Politics. 
 
 The views of Stewart represent, in the chief points, al- 
 though 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 hy 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, (8) a disposition grounded on bene- 
 volent concern about the sufferer. This is at best vague. 
 Equally so is what he states respecting the pleasures of sym- 
 pathy and benevolence (Book II., Chapter VIL). There is, 
 he says, a pleasure attached to fellow-feeling, a disposition to 
 accommodate our minds to others, wherever there is a bene- 
 volent affection ; and, in all probabilit}^, 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 foun- 
 dation 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 
 Christimity. He is disposed to assume the benevolence of 
 the Deity, but considers that to afiirm it positively is to go 
 beyond our depth.
 
 232 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ^BROWN. 
 
 THOMAS BROWN. [1778-1820.1 
 
 Brown's Ethical discussion commences in the 73rd of hia 
 
 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 con- 
 stitutes 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 consti- 
 tuted. Thus, without using the same term, he sides with the 
 doctrine of the Innate Moral Sense. He illustrates it by 
 another elementary fiict of the mind, involved in the concep- 
 tion 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. Oiir 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, but distinct from them. Our feeling of 
 moral excellence, in like manner, is not the mere perception 
 of difierent 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 judg- 
 ment. 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 dis- 
 cordant 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.
 
 UNIVERSALITY OF MORAL DISTINCTIONS. 233 
 
 He beorins 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 in- 
 capacitated for perceiving moral differences ; we must, in such 
 cases appeal, as it were, fi-om Philip drunk to Philip sober. 
 
 Secondly, Still more important is th« limitation arising 
 fi'om the complexity of many actions. Where good and evil 
 results are so blended that we cannot easily assign the pre- 
 ponderance, 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 tmmoral sense.] Suicide is not commended because it 
 deprives society of useful members, and gives sorrow to rela- 
 tions 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 cer- 
 tain 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
 
 234 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BROWN. 
 
 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, asso- 
 ciation 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 limita- 
 tions, we still leave unimpaired the approbation of unmixed 
 good as good, and the disapprobation of unmixed evil as evil. 
 His farther remarks, however, are mainly eloquent declama- 
 tion 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. Benevo- 
 lence 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 pro- 
 position 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 cp-Hain actions, be the amount of utility 
 that they bring ; wLcr^her we have no other reason for com- 
 mending 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 admira- 
 tion 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 dis])ute ; he ad niits an approvableness peculiar to 
 living and voluntary agents, a capacity of exciting moral emo-
 
 OBJECTIONS TO UTILITY AS THE STANDARD. 235 
 
 tions 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 inven- 
 tors 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 distincti(jns, 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. Bat 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 discrimhiation. It gives an exercise to our 
 reason in disentangling the complicated results of our actions. 
 
 He makes it albO an objection to Utility, that it does not 
 explain why we feel approbation of the useful, and disappro- 
 bation of the hurtful ; forgetting that Benevolence is an 
 admitted fac;t 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 dis- 
 tinguishes two modes of assigning S5elf-interest as the sole 
 motive of virtuous conduct. JTirst, 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.
 
 236 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— BROWN. 
 
 He calls in question tliis 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 rale. 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 A.dam Smith. Admit- 
 ting that we have the sympathetic feeling that Smith proceeds 
 upon, he questions its adequacy to constitute the moral senti- 
 ment, on the ground that it is not a perpetual accompaniment of 
 oar actions. There must be a certain vividness of feeling or of 
 the display of feeling, or at least a suificient 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, bat to the 
 further and distinct fict of the a'-^j^whation, of those feelino-s. 
 
 Although siding in the main with S'lafteshury and Hat- 
 cheson, Bi-own objects to their designation Moral Sense, as 
 expressing the innate power of moral approbation. If ' Sense ' 
 be interpreted merelj' as susceptibility, he has nothing to say,
 
 FOUNDATION OF DISINTERESTED SENTIMENT. 237 
 
 but if it mean a primary raedinra of perception, like the eye 
 or the ear, he considers it a mistake. It is, in his view, au 
 emotion, like hope, jealousy, or resentment, rising np 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 per- 
 ception 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; 
 11. 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, 
 Sj)eaking 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 
 ns love. The qualities are delightful to love, and yet impos- 
 sible 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, bat with positive dis- 
 like. In another place, he remarks that we desire the happi- 
 ness of our fellows simply as human beings. He is opposed 
 to the theory that would trace our disinterested aflPections to 
 a selfish origin, lie makes some attempt to refer to the laws of 
 Association, the t;iking 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 TALEY. [I743-LS05]. 
 
 The First Book of Paley's ' Moral and Political Philosophy* 
 is entitled ' Preliminary CoxsiDEii.vnoxs -.' it is in fact an
 
 238 ETHICAL SYSTEMS —PALE Y. 
 
 unmethodical account of various fundamental points of the 
 subject. He begins hj defining Moral Philosophy as * that 
 science ivhicli teaches men thalr cluti/, 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 fasliion. 
 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 luxary, prodigality, partiality. It 
 must confine itself to offences strictly definable. 
 
 The Scriptures lay down general rules, whicb 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 efieciive 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 cauglit 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 dis- 
 approved in all ages and countries; wliich oircumstancea 
 point to the operation of an instinct, or a moral sense. 
 
 The answers to these allegations are — 
 
 First, The Uniformitij 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 MOKAL SEXSE. 239 
 
 the world, has not been countenanced by public opinion. The 
 marder 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 ac- 
 counted by some people magnanimity, and by others meanness. 
 In these, and in many other instances, moral approbation fol- 
 lows the fashions and institutions of the country, which 
 institutions have themselves grown out of local circumstances, 
 the arbitrary authority of some chiefcain, or the caprice of the 
 multitude. 
 
 Secondly, That, although, after allowing for these excep- 
 tions, it is admitted that some sorts of actions are more ap- 
 proved than others, the approbation being general, although 
 not universal, yet this may be accounted for, without sup- 
 posing a moral sense, thus : — 
 
 Having experiencad a particular line of conduct as bene- 
 jficial to ourselv^es, 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 mem- 
 bers is sure and irresistible. The efB.cacy of Imitation is 
 shown in cases w^here there is no authority or express training 
 employed, as in the likings and dislikings, or tastes and anti- 
 pathies, 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 uni- 
 versally true ; they bend to circumstances. Veracity, which 
 is a natural duty, if there be any such, is di-^pensed 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
 
 240 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— PALE Y. 
 
 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 wick- 
 edness. 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 difiering only in continuance, and 
 in iniensity. A computation made in respect of these two pro- 
 perties, 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 moibid depression, anxiety, 
 and liypochondvia. Even a pain in moderation may be a 
 refreshn:ient, from giving a stimulus to pursuit. 
 
 Nor does it consist in greatness, rank, or station. The 
 reason here is derived, as usual, irom 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.
 
 DEFINITION OF VIRTUE EQUIVOCAL. 241 
 
 II. — What happiness does consist in. Allowing for the 
 great difficulties of this vital determination, he proposes to be 
 goveraed 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 pru- 
 dent constitution of the habits ; the prudent constitution being 
 chiefly in moderation and simplicity of life, or in demanding 
 few stimulants ; and 4th ly, In Healtb, 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 defini- 
 tion of virtue is ' tlie doing ijoud to manJchid, in obedience to the 
 ivill of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness.* 
 
 If this were strictly interpreted according to its form, it 
 would mean that tbree 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, with- 
 out the fiU'ther 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 Happi- 
 ness and the Will of the Deity — and holds them to coincide 
 and to explain one anolher. Either of the two would be a 
 sufficient definition of virtue; and he would add, as an ex- 
 planatory 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 w^orking it. 
 By running from one of the tests to another at discretion, we 
 may evade whatever is disagreeable to us in both. 
 
 Book II., entitled Moral Obligation, is the full develop- 
 ment of his views. Reciting vari(jus theories of moral right 
 and wrong, he remarks, first, that they all ultimately coincide ; 
 in other words, all the theorists agree upon the same rules of 
 duty — a remark to be received with allowances; and next, 
 that they all leave the matter short ; none provide an ade- 
 quate motive or inducement. [He omits to mention the theory 
 of the Divine Will, which is partly his own theory]. 
 11
 
 24:2 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — PALEY. 
 
 In proceeding to supply this want, he asks first * wliat is 
 meant by being obliged to do a thing;' and answers, *a violent 
 motive restilting frora the command of another,' The motive 
 must be violent, or have some degree of force to overcome 
 reluctance or opposing tendencies. It must also result from 
 the command of another ; not the mere offer of a gratuity by 
 way of inducement. Such is the nature of Law ; we should 
 not obey the magistrate, unless rewards or punishments de- 
 pended on our obedience ; so neither should we, without the 
 same reason, do what is right, or obey God. 
 
 He then resumes 11 ie general question, under a concrete 
 case, * Why am I obliged to keep my word ?' The answer 
 accords with the above explanation ; — Because I am urged to 
 do so by a violent motive (namely, the rewards and punish- 
 ments of a future life), resulting from the command of God. 
 Private happiness is the motive, the will of God the rule. 
 [Althousrh not brought out in the present connexion, it is 
 implied that the will of God intends the happiness of man- 
 kind, and is to be interpreted accordingly.] 
 
 Previously, when reasoning on the means of human happi- 
 ness, he declared it to be an established conclusion, that virtue 
 leads to happiness, even in this life ; now he bases his own 
 theor}'- on the uncertainty of that conclusion. His words are, 
 * They who would establish a system of morality, independent of 
 a future state, must look out for some other idea of moral obli- 
 gation, unless they can shoiv that virtue conducts the possessor 
 to certain happiness in this life, or to a much greater share of 
 it than he could attain by a different behaviour.' He does 
 not make the obvious remark that human authority, as far as 
 it goes, is also a source of obligation ; it works by the very 
 same class of means as the divine authority. 
 
 He next proceeds to enquire into the means of determining 
 the Will of God. There are two sources — the express declara- 
 tions of Scripture, when they are to be had ; and the design 
 impressed on the world, in other words, the light of nature. 
 This last source requires him, on his system, to establish the 
 Divine Benevolence ; and he arrives at the conclusion that 
 God wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures, and 
 accordingly, that the method of coming at his will concerning 
 an}'- action is to enquire into the tendency of that action to 
 promote or to diminish the general happiness. 
 
 He then discusses Ut[L1ty, with a view of answering the 
 objection that actions may be useful, and yet such as no man 
 will allow to be risht. This leads him to distinsfuish between
 
 GENERAL RULES. 243 
 
 the particular and tlie general consequences of actions, and to 
 enforce the necessity of General Rules. An assassin, by 
 knocking a rich villain on the head, may do immediate and 
 particular good ; but the liberty granted to individuals to kill 
 whoever they should deem injurious to society, would render 
 human life unsafe, and induce universal terror. ' Whatever 
 is expedient is right,* but then it must be expedient on 
 the whole, in the long run, in all its effects collateral and 
 remote, as well as immeraate and direct. When the 
 honestum is opposed to the utile, the lionestum means the 
 general and remote consequences, the utile the particular and 
 the near. 
 
 The concluding sections of Book II. are occupied with the 
 consideration of Right and Rights. A Right is of course 
 correlative with an Obligation. Rights are Natural or Adven- 
 titious ; Alienable or Inalienable ; Perfect or Imperfect. The 
 only one of these distinctions having any Ethical application 
 is Perfect and Imperfect. The Perfect Rights are, the Imper- 
 fect are not, enforced by Law. 
 
 Under the ' general Rights of mankind,' he has a discus- 
 sion as to our right to the flesh of animals, and contends that 
 it would be difficult to defend this right by any arguments 
 drawn from the light of nature, and that it reposes on the 
 text of Genesis ix. 1, 2, 3. 
 
 As regards the chief bulk of Paley's work, it is necessary 
 only to indicate his scheme of the Duties, and his manner of 
 treating them. 
 
 Book III. considers Relative D[JTIES. There are three 
 classes of these. First, Relative Duties that are Determinate, 
 meaning all those that are strictly defined and enforced ; those 
 growing out of Promises, Contracts, Oaths, and Subscriptions 
 to Articles of Religion. Secondly, Relative Duties that are 
 Indeterniinate, as Charity, in its various aspects of treatment 
 of dependents, assistance to the needy, &c. ; the checks on 
 Anger and Revenge ; Gratitude, &c. Thirdly, the Relative 
 Duties growing out of the Sexes. 
 
 Book IV. is Duties to Ourselves, and treats of Self- 
 defence, Drunkenness, and Suicide. 
 
 Book V. comprises Duties towards God. 
 
 Book VI. is occupied with Politics and Political Economy. 
 It discusses the Origin of Civil Government, the Duty of 
 Submission to Government, Liberty, the Forms of Govern- 
 ment, the British Constitution, the Administration of Justice, 
 <&c.
 
 244 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — PAiEY. 
 
 The Ethical Theory of Paley may be briefly resnmed 
 thus : — 
 
 I. — The Ethical Standard with him is the conjoined 
 reference to the Will of the Deity, and to Utilitj', or Human 
 Happiness. He is unable to construct a scheme applicable to 
 mankind generally, until they are first converted to a belief 
 in Revelation. 
 
 II. — The Psychology implied in his system involves his 
 most characteristic features. 
 
 1. He is unmistakeable in repudiating Innate Moral Dis- 
 tinctions, and on this point, and on this only, is he thoroughly 
 at one with the Utilitarians of the present day. 
 
 2. On the Theory of Will he has no remarks. He has 
 an utter distaste for anything metaphysical. 
 
 3. He does not discuss Disinterested Sentiment ; by im- 
 plication, he denies it. ' Without the expectation of a future 
 existence,' he says, ' all reasoning upon moral questions is 
 vain.' He cannot, of course, leave out all reference to gene- 
 rosity. Under ' Pecuniary Bounty ' he makes this remark — 
 * They who rank pity amongst the original impulses of our 
 nature, rightly contend, that when this principle prompts us 
 to the relief of human misery, it indicates the Divine intention 
 and our duty. Whether it be an instinct or a habit (?), it is, 
 in fact, a property of our nature, which God appointed, &c.' 
 This is his first argument for charity ; the second is derived 
 from the original title of mankind, granted by the Deity, to 
 hold the earth in common ; and the third is the strong 
 injunctions of Scripture on this head. He cannot, it seems, 
 trust human nature with a single charitable act apart from 
 the intervention of the Deity. 
 
 III. — He has an explicit scheme of Happiness. 
 
 IV. — The Substance of his Moral Code is distinguished 
 from the current opinions chiefly by his well-known views on 
 Subscription to Articles. He cannot conceive how, looking 
 to the incurable diversity of human opinion on all matters 
 short of demonstration, the legislature could expect the per- 
 petual consent of a body of ten thousand men, not to one 
 controverted proposition, but to many hundreds. 
 
 His inducements to the performance of duty are, as we should 
 expect, a mixed reference to Public Utility and to Scripture. 
 
 In the Indeterminate Duties, where men are urged by 
 moral considerations, to the exclusion of legal compulsion, he 
 Bometimes appeals directly to our generous sympathies, as well 
 DB to self-interest, but usually ends with the Scripture authority.
 
 PRINCIPLE OF UTUilTY. 245 
 
 V. — The relation of Ethics to Politics is not a prominent 
 feature in Paley. He makes moral rules repose finally, not 
 upon human, but upon Divine Law. Hence (VI.) the con- 
 nexion of his system with Theology is fundamental. 
 
 JEREMY BENTHAM. [1748-1832.] 
 
 The Ethical System of Jeremy Bentham is given in his 
 work, entitled ' An Introduction to the Principles of Morals 
 and Legislation,' first published in 1789. In a posthumous 
 work, entitled Deontology, his principles were farther illus- 
 trated, chiefly with reference to the minor morals and amiable 
 virtues. 
 
 It is the first-named work that we shall here chiefly 
 notice. In it, the author has principally in view Legislation ; 
 but the same common basis. Utility, serves, in his judgment, 
 for Ethics, or Morals. 
 
 The first chapter, entitled * The Peixciple op Utility/ 
 begins thus : — ' Nature has placed mankind under the gover- 
 nance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for 
 them alone to point out what we ought to do, as well as to 
 determine what we shall do. On the one hand, the standard 
 oF right and wrong ; on the other, the chain of causes and 
 effects, are fastened to their throne. They govern us in all 
 we do, in all we say, in all we think ; every efl'ort we can 
 make to throw off* our subjection will serve but to demonstrate 
 and confirm it. In words a man may pretend to abjure their 
 empire, but in reality he will remain subject to it all the 
 while. The principle of utility recognizes this subjection, and 
 assumes it for the foundation of that system, the object of 
 which is to rear the fabric of felicity by the hand of reason 
 and of law. Systems which attempt to question it, deal in 
 sounds instead of sense, in caprice instead of reason, in dark- 
 ness instead of light.' 
 
 He defines Utility in various phrases, all coming to the 
 same thing : — the tendency of actions to promote the happi- 
 ness, and to prevent the misery, of the party under considera- 
 tion, which party is usually the community where one's lot is 
 cast. Of this principle no proof can be offered ; it is the final 
 axiom, on which alone we can found all arguments of a moral 
 kind. He that attempts to combat it, usually assumes it, un- 
 awares. An opponent is challenged to say — (1) if he discards 
 it wholly; (-) if he will act without any principle, or if there 
 is any other that he would judge by ; (3) if that other be 
 really and distinctly separate from utility ; (4) if he is inclined
 
 246 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BENTHAM. 
 
 to set up his own approbation or disapprobation as the role; 
 and if so, whether he will force that upon others, or allow each 
 person to do the same ; (5) in the first case, if his principle ia 
 not despotical ; (6) in the second case, whether it is not 
 anarchical; (7) supposing him to add the plea of reflection, 
 let him say if the basis of his reflections excludes utility ; (8) 
 if he means to compound the matter, and take utility for part ; 
 and if so, for what part ; (9) why he goes so far, with Utility, 
 and no farther; (10) on what other principle a meaning can 
 be attached to the words motive and right. 
 
 In Chapter II., Bentham discusses the Principles adverse 
 TO Utility. He conceives two opposing grounds. The first 
 mode of opposition is direct and constant, as exemplified in 
 Asceticism. A second mode may be only occasional, as in 
 what he terms the principle of Sympathy and Aritipatluj 
 (Liking and Disliking). 
 
 The principle of Asceticism means the approval of an 
 action according to its tendency to diminish happiness, or 
 obversely. Any one reprobating in any shape, pleasure as 
 such, is a partisan of this principle. Asceticism has been 
 adopted, on the one hand, by certain moralists, from the spur 
 of philosophic pride ; and on the other hand, by certain re- 
 ligionists, under the impulse of fear. It has been much less 
 admitted into Legislation than into Morals. It may have 
 originated, in the first instance, with hasty speculators, look- 
 ing at the pains attending certain pleasures in the long run, 
 and pushing the abstinence from such pleasures (justified to a 
 certain length on prudential grounds) so far as to fall in love 
 with pain. 
 
 The other principle. Sympathy and Antipathy, means the 
 unreasoning appi-obation or disapprobation of the individual 
 mind, where fancy, caprice, accidental liking or disliking, may 
 mix with a regard to human happiness. This is properly the 
 negation of a principle. What we expect to find in a principle 
 is some external consideration, w^arranting and guiding our 
 sentiments of approbation and disapprobation ; a basis that all 
 are agreed upon. 
 
 It is under this head that Bentham rapidly surveys and 
 dismisses all the current theories of Right and Wrong. 
 They consist all of them, he says, in so many contrivances for 
 avoiding an appeal to any external standard, and for requiring 
 lis to accept the author's sentiment or opinion as a reason for 
 itself. The dictates of this principle, however, will often 
 Duintentionally coincide with utility ; for what more natural
 
 THE SANCTIONS. 247 
 
 gronnd of hatred to a practice can there be than its mis- 
 chievous tendency ? The things that men suffer by, they 
 will be disposed to hate. Still, it is not constant in its 
 operation ; for people may ascribe the suffering to the wrong 
 cause. The principle is most liable to err on the side of 
 severity; differences of taste and of opinion are sufficient 
 grounds for quarrel and resentment. It will err on the side 
 of lenity, when a mischief is remote and imperceptible. 
 
 The author reserves a distinct handling for the Theological 
 principle ; alleging that it falls under one or other of the three 
 foregoing. The Will of God must mean his will as revealed 
 in the sacred writings, which, as the labours of divines testify, 
 themselves stand in need of interpretation. What is meant, 
 in fact, is the jjresumjjfive will of God ; that is, what is pre- 
 sumed to be his will on account of its conformity with another 
 principle. We are pretty sure that what is right is conformable 
 to his will, but then this requires us first to know what is right. 
 The usual mode of knowing God's pleasure (he remarks) is to 
 observe what is our own pleasure, and pronounce that to be his. 
 
 Chapter III. On Four Sanctions or Sources of Pain and 
 Pleasure whereby men are stimulated to act right ; they 
 are termed, ]3hysical, political^ vioral, and religiuus. These are 
 the Sanctions of Right. 
 
 The ijhijsical sanction includes the pleasures and pains 
 arising in the ordinary course of nature, unmodified by the 
 will of any human being, or of any supernatural being. 
 
 The jpolitical sanction is what emanates from the sovereign 
 or supreme ruling power of the state. The punishments of 
 the Law come under this head. 
 
 The moral or jpop'idar sanction results from the action of 
 the community, or of the individuals that each person comes in 
 contact with, acting without any settled or concerted rule. 
 It corresponds to public opinion, and extends in its operation 
 beyond the sphere of the law. 
 
 The religious sanction proceeds from the immediate hand 
 of a superior invisible being, either in the present, or in a 
 future life. 
 
 The name Punishment is applicable only to the three last. 
 The sufi'ering that befalls a man in the course of nature is 
 termed a calamiti/ ; if it happen through imprudence on his 
 part, it may be styled a punishment issuing from the physical 
 sanction. 
 
 Chapter IV. is the Value of a lot of Pleasure or Pain, 
 HOW TO BE Measured. A pleasure or a pain is determined to
 
 248 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BENTHaM. 
 
 be greater or less according to (1) its intensity^ (2) its dura* 
 Hon, (3) its certainty or uncertainty^ (4) its propinquity or 
 remoteness; all wbich are obvious distinctions. To these are 
 to be added (5) its fecundity^ or the chance it has of being 
 followed by other sensations of its own kind ; that is pleasures 
 if it be pleasure, pains if it be pain. Finally (6) its purity^ or 
 the chance of its being unmixed with the opposite kind ; a 
 pure pleasure has no mixture of pain. All the six properties 
 apply to the case of an individual person ; where a plurality are 
 concerned, a new item is present, (7) the extent, or the number 
 of persons affected. These properties exhaust the meaning of 
 the terms expressing good and evil ; on the one side, happi- 
 ness, convenience, advantage, benefit, emolument, profit, 
 &c. ; and, on the other, unhappiness, inconvenience, disad- 
 vantage, loss, mischief, and the like. 
 
 Next follows, in Chapter V., a classified enumeration of 
 Pleasures and Pains. In a system undertaking to base all 
 Moral and Political action on the production of happiness, 
 such a classification is obviously required. The author pro- 
 fesses to have grounded it on an analysis of human nature, 
 which analysis itself, however, as being too metaphysical, he 
 withholds. * 
 
 The simple pleasures are: — 1. The pleasures of sense. 
 2. The pleasures of wealth. 3. The pleasures of skill. 4. The 
 pleasures of amity. 5. The pleasures of a good name. 6. The 
 pleasures of power. 7. The pleasures of piety. 8. The plea- 
 sures of benevolence. 9. The pleasures of malevolence. 
 10. The pleasures of memory. 11. The pleasures of imagi- 
 nation. 12. The pleasures of expectation. 13. The pleasures 
 dependent on association. 14. The pleasures of relief. 
 
 The simple pains are : — 1. The pains of privation. 2. The 
 pains of the senses. 3. The pains of awkwardness. 4. The 
 pains of enmity. 5. The pains of an ill name. 6. The pains 
 of piety. 7. The pains of benevolence. 8. The pains of male- 
 volence. 9. The pains of the memory. 10. The pains of the 
 imagination. 1 1 . The pains of expectation. 12. The pains 
 dependent on association. 
 
 We need not quote his detailed subdivision and illustration 
 of these. At the close, he marks the important difi*erence 
 between self-regarding and extra.-regarding ; the last being 
 those of benevolence and of malevolence. 
 
 In a long chapter (VI.), he dwells on Ciecumstances influ- 
 encing Sensibility. They are such as the following : — 1. 
 Health. 2. Strength. 3. Hardiness. 4. Bodily imperfection.
 
 PLEASUKES AND PAINS. — MOTIVES. 249 
 
 6. Qnantity and Quality of knowledge. 6. Strength of intel- 
 lectual powers. 7. Firmness of mind. 8. Steadiness of 
 mind. 9. Bent of inclination. 10. Moral sensibility. 11. 
 Moral biases. 12. Religious Sensibility. 13. ReKgious 
 biases. 14. Sympathetic Sensibility. 15. Sympathetic biases. 
 16. Antipathetic sensibility. 17. Antipathetic biases. 18. 
 Insanity. 19. Habitual occupations. 20. Pecuniary circum- 
 stances. 21. Connexions in the way of sympathy. 22. 
 Connexions in the way of antipathy. 23. Radical frame of 
 body. 24. Radical frame of mind. 25. Sex. 26. Age. 27. 
 Rank. 28. Education. 29. Climate. 30. Lineage. 31. 
 Government. 82. Religious profession. 
 
 Chapter VII. proceeds to consider Human Actions in 
 GENERAL. Right and wrong, good and evil, merit and demerit 
 belong to actions. These have to be divided and classified 
 with a view to the ends of the moralist and the legislator. 
 Throughout this, and two other long chapters, he discusses, as 
 necessary in apportioning punishment, the act itself, the circunim 
 stances, the intention, and the consciousness — or the knowledge 
 of the tendencies of the act. He introduces many subdivisions 
 under each head, and makes a number of remarks of import- 
 ance as regards penal legislation. 
 
 In Chapter X., he regards pleasures and pains in the 
 aspect of Motives. Since every pleasure and every pain, as 
 a part of their nature, induce actions, they are often de- 
 signated with reference to that circumstance. Hunger, thirst, 
 lust, avarice, curiosity, ambition, &c., are names of this class. 
 There is not a complete set of such designations ; hence the 
 use of the circumlocutions, apioetite for, love of, desire of — sweet 
 odours, sounds, sights, ease, reputation, &c. 
 
 Of great importance is the Order of pre-eminence ariiong 
 motives. Of all the varieties of motives. Good- will, or Bene- 
 volence, taken in a general view, is that whose dictates are 
 surest to coincide with Titility. In this, however, it is taken 
 for granted that the benevolence is not so confined in its 
 sphere, as to be contradicted by a more extensive, or enlarged, 
 benevolence. 
 
 After good-will, the motive that has the best chance of 
 coinciding with Utility is Love of Reputation. The coincidence 
 would be perfect, if men's likings and dislikiugs were governed 
 exclusively by the principle of Utility, and not, as they often 
 are, by the hostile principles of Asceticism, and of Sympathy 
 and Antipathy. Love of reputation is inferior as a motive to 
 Good-will, in not governing the secret actions. These last
 
 250 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BENTHAJil 
 
 are affected, only as they have a chance of becoming pnblio, 
 or as men contract a habit of looking to public approbation in 
 all they do. 
 
 The desire of Amity, or of close personal affections, is 
 placed next in order, as a motive. According as we extend 
 the number of persons whose amity we desire, this prompting 
 approximates to the love of reputation. 
 
 After these three motives, Bentham places the Dictates of 
 Religion, which, however, are so various in their suggestions, 
 that he can hardly speak of them in common. Were the 
 Being, who is the object of religion, universally supposed to 
 be as benevolent as he is supposed to be wise and powerful, and 
 were the notions of his benevolence as correct as the notions 
 of his wisdom and power, the dictates of religion would 
 correspond, in all cases, with Utility. But while men call 
 him benevolent in words, they seldom mean that he is so in 
 reality. They do not mean that he is benevolent as man is 
 conceived to be benevolent; they do not mean that he is 
 benevolent in the only sense that benevolence has a meaning. 
 The dictates of religion are in all countries intermixed, more 
 or less, with dictates unconformable to utility, deduced from 
 texts, well or ill interpreted, of the writings held for sacred 
 by each sect. These dictates, however, gradually approach 
 nearer to utility, because the dictates of the moral sanction 
 do so. 
 
 Such are the four Social or Tutelary Motives, the anta- 
 gonists of the Dissocial and Self- regarding motives, which 
 include the remainder of the catalogue. 
 
 Chapter XI. is on Dispositions. A man is said to be of a 
 mischievous disposition, when he is presumed to be apt to 
 engage rather in actions of an apparently pernicious tendency, 
 than in such as are apparently beneficial. The author lays 
 down certain Rules for indicating Disposition. Thas, ' The 
 strength of the temptation being given, the mischievousness 
 of the disposition manifested by the enterprise, is as the 
 apparent misf'-bievousness of the act,' and others to a like 
 effect. 
 
 Chapter XII. — Of the consequences of a mischievous 
 ACT, is meant as the concluding link of the whole previous 
 chain of causes and effects. He defines the shapes that 
 bad consequences may assume. The mischief may be 
 primary, as when sustained by a definite number of indi- 
 viduals ; or secondary^ by extending over a multitude of un- 
 assignable individuals. The evil in this last case may be
 
 PRIVATE ETHICS — DUTIES TO OURSELVES. 251 
 
 eitlier actual pain, or danger, which is the chance of paiD. 
 Thus, a successful robbery affects, primarily, a number of 
 assignable persons, and secondarily, all persons in a like 
 situation of risk. 
 
 He then proceeds to the theory of Punishment (XIIL, 
 XIV., XV.), to the classification of Offences (XVI.), and to 
 the Limits of the Penal Branch of Jui'isprudence (XVII.). 
 The two first subjects — Punishments and Offences — are inter- 
 esting chiefly in regard to Legislation. They have also a 
 bearing on Morals ; inasmuch as society, in its private adminis- 
 tration of punishments, ought, no less than the Legislator, to 
 be guided by sound scientific principles. 
 
 As respects Punishment, he marks off (1) cases where it is 
 groundless-, (2) where it is iuejjicacious, as in Infancy, Insanity, 
 Intoxication, &c.; (3) cases where it is unprofitahle ; and (4) 
 cases where it is needless. It is under this last herd that he 
 excludes from punishment the dissemination of what may be 
 deemed pernicious principles. Punishment is needless here, 
 because the end can be served by reply and exposure. 
 
 The first part of Chapter XVII. is entitled the * Limits 
 between Private Ethics and the Art of Legislation ;' and a 
 short account of it will complete the view of the author's 
 Ethical Theory. 
 
 Ethics at large, is defined the art of directing men's actions 
 to the production of the greatest possib'o quantity of happi- 
 ness, on the part of those whoso interest is in view. Now, 
 these actions may be a man's owti actions, in which case they 
 are styled the art of self-government, ov ])rivLite ethics. Or they 
 may be the actions of other agents, namely, (1) Other human 
 beings, and (2) Other Animals, whose interests Bentham con- 
 siders to have been disgracefully overlooked by jurists as well 
 as by mankind generally. 
 
 In so far as a man's happiness depends on his own con- 
 duct, he may be said to owe a dutij to himself; the quality 
 manifested in discharge of this branch of duty (if duty it is to 
 be called) is prudence. In so far as he affects by his conduct 
 the interests of those about him, he is under a duty to others. 
 The happiness of others may be consulted in two ways. First, 
 negatively, by forbearing to diminish it ; this is called 
 PiiOBiTY. Secondly, in a positive way, by studying to increase 
 it ; which is expressed by beneficence. 
 
 But now the question occurs, how is it that under Private 
 Ethics (or apart from legislation and religion) a man can be 
 under a motive to consult other people's happiness ? By what
 
 252 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — BENTHAM. 
 
 obligations can he be bound to probity and heneficence? A 
 man can have no adequate motives for consulting any interests 
 but his own. Still there are motives for making us consult 
 the happiness of others, namely, the purely social motive of 
 Sympathy or Benevolence, and the semi-social motives of Love 
 of Amity and Love of Reputation. [He does not say here 
 whether Sympathy is a motive grounded on the pleasure it 
 brings, or a motive irrespective of the pleasure ; although from 
 other places we may infer that he inclines to the first view.] 
 
 Private Ethics and Legislation can have but the same end, 
 happiness. Their means, the actions prompted, must be 
 nearly the same. Still they are different. There is no case 
 where a man ought not to be guided by his own, or his fellow- 
 creatures', happiness; but there are many cases where the 
 legislature should not compel a man to perform such actions. 
 The reason is that the Legislature works solely by Punish- 
 ment (reward is seldom applied, and is not properly an act of 
 legislation). Now, there are cases where the punishment of 
 the political sanction ought not to be used ; and if, in any of 
 these cases, there is a propriety of using the punishments of 
 private ethics (the moral or social sanction), this circumstance 
 would indicate the line of division. 
 
 First, then, as to the cases where punishment would be 
 groundless. In such cases, neither legislation nor private 
 ethics should interfere. 
 
 Secondly. As to cases where it would be mefficacious, where 
 punishment has no deterring motive power, — as in Infancy, 
 Insanity, overwhelming danger, &c., — the public and the pri- 
 vate sanctions are also alike excluded. 
 
 Thirdly. It is in the cases where Legislative punishment 
 would be unprofitahle, that we have the great field of Private 
 Ethics. Punishment is unprofitable in two ways. First, 
 when the danger of detection is so small, that nothing but 
 enormous severity, on detection, would be of avail, as in the 
 illicit commerce of the sexes, which has generally gone un- 
 punished by law. Secondly, when there is danger of in- 
 volving the innocent with the guilty, from inability to define 
 the crime in precise language. Hence it is that rude be- 
 haviour, treachery, and ingratitude are not punished by law ; 
 and that in countries where the voice of the people controls 
 the hand of the legislature, there is a great dread of making 
 defamatio7ij especially of the government, an ofience at law. 
 
 Private Ethics is not liable to the same difficulties as 
 Legislation in dealing with such offences.
 
 PROVINCE OF LEGISLATION. 253 
 
 Of the three departments of Moral Daty — Prudence, 
 Probity, and Beneficence — the one that least requires and 
 admits of being enforced by legislative punishment is the 
 first — Prudence. It can only be through some defect of the 
 understanding, if people are wanting in duty to themselves. 
 Now, although a man may know little of himself, is it 
 certain the legislator knows more ? Would it be possible to 
 extirpate drunkenness or fornication by legal punishment ? 
 All that can be done in this field is to subject the oflPences, iu 
 cases of notoriety, to a slight censure, so as to cover them 
 with a slight shade of artificial disrepute, and thus give 
 strengtii and influence to the moral sanction. 
 
 Legislators have, in general, carried their interference too 
 far in this class of duties ; and the mischief has been most 
 conspicuous in religion. Men, it is supposed, are liable to 
 errors of judgment; and for these it is the determination of a 
 Being of infinite benevolence to punish them with an infinity 
 of torments. The legislator, having by his side men perfectly 
 enlightened, unfettered, and unbiassed, presumes that he has 
 attained by their means the exact truth ; and so, when he sees 
 his people ready to plunge headlong into an abyss of fire, shall 
 he not stretch forth his hand to save them ? 
 
 The second class of duties — the rules of Prohify, stand 
 most in need of the assistance of the legislator. There are 
 few cases where it loould be expedient to punish a man for 
 hurting himself, and few where it would not be expedient to 
 punish a man for hurting his neighbour. As regards offences 
 against property, private ethics presupposes legislation, which, 
 alone can determine what things are to be regarded as each 
 man's property. If private ethics takes a diff*erent view from 
 the legislature, it must of course act on its own views. 
 
 The third class of duties — Beneficence — must be aban- 
 doned to the jurisdiction of private ethics. In many cases 
 the beneficial quality of an act depends upon the disposition 
 of the agent, or the possession by him of the extra-regarding 
 motives — sympathy, amity, and reputation ; whereas political 
 action can work only through the self- regarding motives. In 
 a word these duties must be free or voluntary. Still, the limits 
 of law on this head might be somewhat extended ; in particular, 
 where a man's person is in danger, it might be made the duty 
 of every one to save him from mischief, no less than to ab- 
 stain from brino'inof it on him. 
 
 To resume the Ethics of Bentham. I. — The Standard or 
 End of Morality is the production of Happiness, or Utility
 
 254 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— BENTH AM. 
 
 Bentham is thus at one in his jBrst principle with Hame and 
 with Palej ; his peculiarity is to make it fruitful in numerous 
 applications both to legislation and to morals. He carries 
 out the principle with an unflinching rigour, and a logical 
 force peculiarly his own. 
 
 n. — His Psychological Analysis is also studied and 
 thorough-going. 
 
 He is the first person to provide a classification of plea- 
 sures and pains, as an indispensable preliminary alike to 
 morals and to legislation. The ethical applications of these 
 are of less importance than the legislative ; they have a direct 
 and practical bearing upon the theory of Punishment. 
 
 He lays down, as the constituents of the Moral Faculty, 
 Good-will or Benevolence, the love of Amity, the love of 
 Reputation, and the dictates of Religion — with a view to the 
 Happiness of others ; and Prudence — with a view to our own 
 happiness. He gives no special account of the acquired senti- 
 ment of Obligation or Authority — the characteristic of Con- 
 science, as distinguished from other impulses having a 
 tendency to the good of others or of self. And yet it is the 
 peculiarity of his system to identify morality with law ; so 
 that there is only one step to connecting conscience with our 
 education under the diff'erent sanctions — legal and ethical. 
 
 He would of course give a large place to the Intellect or 
 Reason in making up the Moral Faculty, seeing that the con- 
 sequences of actions have to be estimated or judged ; but he 
 would regard this as merely co-operating with our sensibilities 
 to pleasure and pain. 
 
 The Disinterested Sentiment is not regarded by Bentham 
 as arising from any disposition to pure self-sacrifice. He 
 recognizes Pleasures of Benevolence and Pains of Benevolence ; 
 thus constituting a purely interested motive for doing good to 
 others. He describes certain pleasures of Imagination or 
 Sympathy arising through Association — the idea of plenty, 
 the idea of the happiness of animals, the idea of health, the 
 idea of gratitude. Under the head of Circumstances influencing 
 Sensibility, he adverts to Sympathetic Sensibility, as being the 
 propensity to derive pleasure from the happiness^ and p am from 
 the uiihajjjjiriess, of otJier sensitive beings. It cannot but be ad- 
 mitted, he says, that the only interest that a man at all 
 times, and on all occasions, is sure to find adequate motives for 
 consulting, is his own. He has no metaphysics of the WilL 
 He uses the tevm.E free and voluntary only with referenc e r,o spon- 
 taneous beneficence, as opposed to the compalsion of the law.
 
 SUMMARY. 255 
 
 m. — As regards Happiness, or the Summum Boniira, he 
 presents his scientific classification of Pleasnres and Pains, 
 without, however, indicating any plan of life, for attaining the 
 one and avoiding the other in the best manner. He makes no 
 distinction among pleasures and pains excepting what strictly 
 concerns their value as such — intensity, duration, certainty, 
 and nearness. He makes happiness to mean only the presence 
 of pleasure and the absence of pain. The renunciation of 
 pleasure for any other motive than to procure a greater plea- 
 sure, or avoid a greater pain, he, disapprovingly, terms 
 asceticism. 
 
 IV. — It being the essence of his system to consider Ethics 
 as a Code of Laws directed by Utility, and he being himself 
 a law reformer on the greatest scale, we might expect from 
 him suggestions for the improvement of Ethics, as well as for 
 Legislation and Jurisprudence. His inclusion of the interests 
 of the lower animals has been mentioned. He also contends for 
 the partly legislative and partly ethical innovation of Freedom 
 of Divorce. 
 
 The inducements to morality are the motives assigned as 
 working in its favour. 
 
 V. — The connexions of Ethics with Politics, the points of 
 agreement and the points of difference of the two departments, 
 are signified with unprecedented care and precision (Chap. 
 XVIL). 
 
 VI. — As regards the connexions with Theology, he gives 
 no uncertam sound. It is on this point that he stands in 
 marked contrast to Paley, who also professes Utility as his 
 ethical foundation. 
 
 He recosfnizes religion as furnishing- one of the Sanctions 
 of morality, although often perverted into the enemy of 
 utility. He considers that the state may regard as offences 
 any acts that tend to diminish or misapply the influence of 
 religion as a motive to civil obedience. 
 
 While Paley makes a conjoined reference to Scripture and 
 to Utility in ascertaining moral rules, Bentham insists on 
 Utility alone as the final appeal. He does not doubt that if 
 we had a clear unambiguous statement of the divine will, we 
 should have a revelation of what is for human happiness ; but 
 he distrusts all interpretations of scripture, unless they coin- 
 cide with a perfectly independent scientific investigation of 
 th« consequences of actions.
 
 256 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 
 
 SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. [1765-1832.J 
 
 In the * Dissertation on the progress of Etbical Philosophy 
 chiefly during the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,' 
 Mackintosh advocates a distinct Ethical theory. His views 
 and arguments occur partly in the course of his criticism of 
 the other moralists, and partly in his concluding General 
 Kemarks (Section VII.). 
 
 In Section I., entitled Preliminary Observations, he re- 
 marks on the universality of the distinction between Right 
 and Wrong. On no subject do men, in all ages, coincide on 
 so many points as on the general rules of conduct, and the 
 estimable qualities of character. Even the grossest deviations 
 may be explained by ignorance of facts, by errors with respect to 
 the consequences of actions, or by inconsistency with admitted 
 principles. In tribes where new-born infants are exposed, 
 the abandonment of parents is condemned ; the betrayal and 
 murder of strangers is condemned by the very rules of faith 
 and humanity, acknowledged in the case of countrymen. 
 
 He complains that, in the enquiry as to the foundation of 
 morals, the two distinct questions — as to the Standard and the 
 Faculty — have seldom been fully discriminated. Thus, Paley 
 opposes Utility to a Moral Sense, not perceiving that the 
 two terras relate to different subjects ; and Bentham repeats 
 the mistake. It is possible to represent Utility as the criterioii 
 of Right, and a Moral Sense as the facidty. In another place, 
 he remarks that the schoolmen failed to draw the distinction. 
 
 In Section V., entitled ' Controversies concerning the 
 Moral Faculty and the Social Affections,' and including the 
 Ethical theories coming between Hobbes and Butler, namely, 
 Cumberland, Cudworth, Clarke, &c., he gives his objections 
 to the scheme that founds moral distinctions solely on the 
 Reason. Reason, as such, can never be a motive to action ; 
 an argument to dissuade a man from drunkenness must appeal 
 to the pains of ill-health, poverty, and infamy, that is, to 
 Feelings. The influence of Reason is indiiect ; it is merely a 
 channel whereby the objects of desire are brought into view, 
 so as to operate on the Will. 
 
 The abused extension of the term Reason to the moral 
 faculties, he ascribes to the obvious importance of Reason in 
 choosing the means of action, as well as in balancing the ends, 
 during which operation the feelings are suspended, delayed, 
 and poised in a way favourable to our lasting interests. Hence 
 the antithesis of Reason and Passion.
 
 IMPORTANCE OF VIRTUOUS DISPOSITIONS. 257 
 
 In remarking upon Leibnitz's view of Disinterested Senti- 
 ment, and the coincidence of Virtue with Happiness, he sketches 
 his own opinion, which is that although every virtuous act 
 may not lead to the greater happiness of the agent, yet the 
 disposition to virtuous acts, in its intrinsic pleasures, far out- 
 weighs all the pains of self-sacrifice that it can ever occasion. 
 ' The whole sagacity and ingenuity of the world may be fairly 
 challenged to point out a case in which virtuous dispositions, 
 habits, and feelings are not conducive in the highest degree 
 to the happiness of the individual ; or to maintain that he is 
 not the happiest, whose moral sentiments and affections are 
 such as to prevent the possibility of any unlawful advantage 
 being presented to his mind.' 
 
 Section VI. is entitled 'Foundations of a more Just Theory 
 of Ethics,' and embraces a review of all the Ethical writers, 
 from Butler downwards. The most palpable defect in Butler's 
 scheme, is that it affords no answer to the question, ' What is 
 the distinguishing quality of right actions ? ' in other words. 
 What is the Standard ? There is a vicious circle in answering 
 that they are commanded by Conscience, for Conscience 
 itself can be no otherwise defined than as the faculty that 
 approves and commands right actions. Still, he gives warin 
 commendation to Butler generally ; in connexion with, him he 
 takes occasion to give some farther hints as to his own opinions. 
 Two positions are here advanced ; 1st, The moral sentiments, 
 in their mature state, are a class of feelings with no other 
 objects than the dispositions to voluntary actions^ and the actions 
 flowing from tliese dispositions. We approve some dispositions 
 and actions, and disapprove others ; we desire to cultivate 
 them, and we aim at them for something in themselves. This 
 position receives light from the doctrine above quoted as to 
 the supreme happiness of virtuous dispositions. His second 
 position is that Conscience is an acquired principle; which he 
 repeats and unfolds in subsequent places. 
 
 He finds fault with Hume for ascribing Virtue to qualities 
 of the Understanding, and considers that this is to confound 
 admiration with moral approbation. Hume's general Ethical 
 doctrine, that Utility is a uniform ground of moral distinc- 
 tion, he says can never be impugned until some example be 
 produced of a virtue generally pernicious, or a vice gener- 
 ally beneficial. But as to the theory of moral approbation, 
 or the nature of the Faculty, he considers that Hume's 
 doctrine of Benevolence (or, still better. Sympathy) does not 
 account for our approbation of temperance and fortitude,
 
 258 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— MACKINTOSH. 
 
 nor for the supremacy of the Moral Faculty over all otheF 
 motives. 
 
 He objects to the theory of Adam Smith, that no allowance 
 is made in it for the transfer of our feelings, and the disap- 
 pearing of the original reference from the view. Granting 
 that our approbation began in sympathy, as Smith says, cer- 
 tain it is, that the adult man approves actions and dispositions 
 as right, while he is distinctly aware that no process of sym- 
 pathy intervenes between the approval and its object. He 
 repeats, against Smith, the criticism on Hume, that the sym- 
 pathies have no imperative character of supremacy. He further 
 I'emarks that the reference, in our actions, to the point of view 
 of the spectator, is rather an expedient for preserving our im- 
 partiality than a fundamental principle of Ethics. It nearly 
 coincides with the Christian precept of doing unto others as 
 we would they should do unto us, — an admirable practical 
 maxim, but, as Leibnitz has said truly, intended only as a cor- 
 rection of self-partiality. Lastly, he objects to Smith, that 
 his system renders all morality relative to the pleasure of our 
 coinciding in feeling with others, which is merely to decide 
 on the Faculty, without considering the Standard. Smith 
 shrinks from Utility as a standard, or ascribes its power over 
 our feelings to our sense of the adaptation of means to ends. 
 
 He coinmends Smith for grounding Benevolence on Sym- 
 pathy, whereas Butler, Hutcbeson, and Hume had grounded 
 Sympathy on Benevolence. 
 
 It is in reviewing Hartley, whose distinction it was to 
 open up the wide capabilities of the principle of Association, 
 that Mackintosh develops at greatest length his theory of the 
 derived nature of Conscience. 
 
 Adverting to the usual example of the love of money, he 
 remarks that the benevolent man might begin with an in- 
 terested affection, but might end with a disinterested delight 
 in doing good. Self-love, or the principle of permanent well- 
 being, is gradually formed from the separate appetites, and is 
 at last pursued without having them specially in view. So 
 Sympathy may perhaps be the transfer, first, of our own per- 
 sonal feelings to other beings, and next, of their feelings to 
 ourselves, thereby engendei-ing the social affections. It is an 
 ancient and obstinate error of philosophers to regard these 
 two principles — Self-love and Sympathy — as the source of the 
 impelling passions and afiections, instead of being the last 
 results of them. 
 
 The chief elementary feelings that go to constitute the
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE MORAL SENSE. 259 
 
 moral sentiments appear to be Gratitude, Pity, Resentment, 
 and Shame. To take the example of Gratitude. Acts of 
 beneficence to ourselves give us pleasure ; we associate this 
 pleasure with the benefactor, so as to regard him with a feel- 
 ing of complacency ; and when we view other beneficent 
 beings and acts there is awakened within us our own agree- 
 able experience. The process is seen in the child, who con- 
 tracts towards the nurse or mother all the feelings of com- 
 placency arising from repeated pleasures, and extends these 
 by similarity to other resembling persons. As soon as com- 
 placency takes the form of action, it becomes (according to 
 the author's theory, connecting conscience with will), a part 
 of the Conscience. So much for the development of Grati- 
 tude. Next as to Pity. The likeness of the outward signs of 
 emotion makes us transfer to others our own feelings, and 
 thereby becomes, even more than gratitude, a source of bene- 
 volence ; being one of the first motives to impart the benefits 
 connected with affection. In our sympathy with the sufferer, 
 we cannot but approve the actions that relieve suffering, and 
 the dispositions that prompt them. We also enter into his 
 Resentment, or anger towards the causes of pain, and the 
 actions and dispositions corresponding ; and this sympathetic 
 anger is at length detached from special cases and extended 
 to all wrong-doers ; and is the root of the most indispensable 
 compound of our moral faculties, the ' Sense of Justice.' 
 
 To these internal growths, from Gratitude, Pity, and Re- 
 sentment, must be added the education by means of well- 
 framed penal laws, which are the lasting declaration of the 
 moral indignation of mankind. Tnese laws may be obeyed as 
 mere compulsor}^ duties ; but with the generous sentiments 
 concurring, men may rise above duty to virtue^ and may con- 
 tract that excellence of nature whence acts of beneficence 
 flow of their own accord. 
 
 He next explains the growth of Remorse, as another ele- 
 ment of the Moral Sense. The abhorrence that we feel for 
 bad actions is extended to the agent; and, in spite of certain 
 obstacles to its full manifestation, that abhorrence is prompted 
 when the agent is self. 
 
 The theory of derivation is bound to account for the fact, 
 recognized in the language of mankind, that the Moral Faculty 
 is ONE. The principle of association would account for the 
 fusion of many different sentiments into one product, wherein 
 the component parts would cease to be discerned ; but this ia 
 not enough. \Vhy do these particular sentiments and no
 
 260 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 
 
 others coalesce in the total — Conscience. The answer is what 
 was formerly given with reference to Butler ; namely, while 
 all other feelings relate to outward objects, the feelinus 
 brought together in conscience, contemplate exclusively the 
 dispositions and actions of voluntary agents. Conscience is thus 
 an acquired faculty, but one that is uuiversally and necessarily 
 acquired. 
 
 The derivation is farther exemplified by a comparison with 
 the feelings of Taste. Tliese may have an original reference 
 to fitness — as in the beauty of a horse — but they do not attain 
 their proper character until the consideration of fitness dis- 
 appears. So far they resemble the moral faculty. They 
 differ from it, however, in this, that taste ends in passive con- 
 templation or quiescent delight ; conscience looks solely to the 
 acts and dispositions of voluntary agents. This is the author's 
 favourite way of expressing what is otherwise called the au- 
 thority and supremacy of conscience. 
 
 To sum up : — the principal constituents of the moral sense 
 are Gratitude, Sympathy (or Pit}'^, Resentment, and Shame; 
 the secondary and auxiliary causes are Education, Imitation, 
 General Opinion, Laws and Government. 
 
 In criticising Paley, he illustrates forcibly the position, 
 that Religion must pre-suppose Morality. 
 
 His criticism of Bentham gives him an opportunity of 
 remarking on the modes of carrying into effect the principle 
 of Utility as the Standard. He repeats his favourite doctrine 
 of the inherent pleasures of a virtuous disposition, as the 
 grand circumstance rendering virtue profitable and vice un- 
 profitable. He even uses the Platonic figure, and compares 
 vice to mental distemper. It is his complaint against Bentham 
 and the later supporters of Utility, that they have misplaced 
 the application of the principle, and have encouraged the too 
 frequent appeal to calculation in the details of conduct. 
 Hence arise sophistical evasions of moral rules ; men will slide 
 from general to particular consequences ; apply the test of 
 utility to actions and not to dispositions ; and, in short, take 
 too much upon themselves in settling questions of moral right 
 and wrong. [He might have remarked that the power of per- 
 verring the standard to individual interests is not confined to 
 the followers of Utility.] He introduces the saying attributed 
 to Andrew Fletcher, ' that he would lose his life to serve his* 
 country, but would not do a base thing to save it.' 
 
 He farther remarks on the tendency of Bentham and his 
 followers to treat Ethics too juridically. He would probably
 
 UTILITY DEFENDED. 261 
 
 admit that Ethics is strictly speaking a code of laws, but draws 
 the line between it and the juridical code, by the distinctioa 
 of dispositions and actions. We may have to approve the 
 author of an injurious action, because it is well-meant ; the 
 law must nevertheless punish it. Herein Ethics has its 
 alliance with Religion, which looks at the disposition, or the 
 heart. 
 
 He is disappointed at finding that Dugald Stewart, who 
 made applications of the law of association and appreciated its 
 powers, held back from, and discountenanced, the attempt of 
 Hartley to resolve the Moral Sense, styling it ' an ingenious 
 refinement on the Selfish system,' and representing those 
 opposed to himself in Ethics as deriving the afiections from 
 * self-love.' He repeats that the derivation theory affirms the 
 disinterestedness of human actions as strongly as Butler him- 
 self; while it gets over the objection from the multiplication 
 of original princiiDles ; and ascribes the result to the operation 
 of a real agent. 
 
 In replying to Brown's refasal to accept the deriva- 
 tion of Conscience, on the ground that the process belongs 
 to a time beyond remembrance, he affirms it to be a suflicient 
 theory, if the supposed action resembles what we know to be 
 the operation of the principle where we have direct experience 
 of it. 
 
 His concluding Section, VII., entitled General Remarks, 
 gives some farther explanations of his characteristic views. 
 
 He takes up the principle of Utility, at the point where 
 Brown bogled at it ; quoting Brown's concession, that Utility 
 and virtue are so related, that there is perhaps no action 
 generally felt to be virtuous that is not beneficial, and that 
 every case of benefit willingly done excites approbation. He 
 strikes out Brown's word 'perhaps,' as making the afiirmatiou 
 either conjectural or useless ; and contends that the two facts, — 
 morality and the general benefit, — being co-extensive, should 
 be reciprocally tests of each other. He qualifies, as usual, by 
 not allowing utility to be, on all occasions, the immediate 
 incentive of actions. He holds, however, that the main doctrine 
 is an essential corollary from the Divine Benevolence. 
 
 He then replies specifically to the question, 'Why is utility 
 not to be the sole end present to the mind of the virtuous 
 agent ?' The answer is found in the limits of man's faculties. 
 Every man is not alwnys able, on the spur of the moment, to 
 calculate all the consequences of our actions. But it is not to 
 be concluded from this, that the calculation of consequences ia
 
 262 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 
 
 impracticable in moral subjects. To calculate the general 
 tendency of every sort of human action is, he contends, a pos- 
 sible, easy, and common operation. The general good effects 
 of temperance, prudence, fortitude, justice, benevolence, grati- 
 tude, veracity, fidelity, domestic and patriotic affections, may 
 be pronounced with as little error, as the best founded m.axims 
 of the ordinary business of life. 
 
 He vindicates the rules of sexual morality on the grounds 
 of benevolence. 
 
 He then discusses the question, (on which he had charged 
 Hume with mistake), 'Why is approbation confiaed to volun- 
 tary acts ? ' He thinks it but a partial solution to say that 
 approbation and disapprobation are wasted on what is not in 
 the power of the will. The full solution he considers to be 
 found in the mode of derivation of the moral sentiment; 
 which, accordingly, he re-discusses at some length. He pro- 
 duces the analogies of chemistry to show that compounds 
 may be totally different from their elements. He insists on 
 the fact that a derived pleasure is not the less a pleasure ; it 
 may even survive the primary pleasure. Self-love (impro- 
 perly so called) is intelligible if its origin be referred to Asso- 
 ciation, but not if it be considered as prior to the appetites 
 and passions that furnish its materials. And as the pleasure 
 derived from low objects may be transferred to the most pure, 
 so Disinterestedness may originate with self, and yet become 
 as entirely detached from that origin as if the two had never 
 been connected. 
 
 He then repeats his doctrine, that these social or dis- 
 interested sentiments prompt the will as the means of their 
 gratification. Hence, by a farther transfer of association, the 
 voluntary acts share in the delight felt in the affections that 
 determine them. We then desire to experience berieficent 
 volitions, and to cultivate the dispositions to these. Such 
 dispositions are at last desired for their own sake ; and, when 
 so desired, constitute the Moral Sense, Conscience, or the 
 Moral Sentiment, in its consummated form. Thus, by a 
 fourth or fitth stage of derivation from the original pleasures 
 and pains of our constitution, we arrive at this highly complex 
 product, called our moral nature. 
 
 Nor is this all. We must not look at the side of indigna- 
 tion to the wrong-doer. We are angry at those who dis- 
 appoint our wish for the happiness of others; we make their 
 resentment our own. We hence approve of the actions and 
 dispositions for punishing such offenders ; while we so far
 
 CONSCIENCE AND WILL CO-EXTENSIVE. 263 
 
 Bympathize with the culprit as to disapprove of excess of 
 puaishment. Such moderated anger is the sense of Justice, 
 and is a new element of Conscience. Of all the virtues, this is 
 the one most directly aided by a conviction of general interest 
 or utility. All laws profess it as their end. Hence the 
 importance of good criminal laws to the moral education of 
 mankind. 
 
 Among contributary streams to the moral faculty, he 
 eaumerates courage, energy, and decision, properly directed. 
 
 He recognizes 'duties to ourselves,' although condemning 
 the expression as absurd. Intemperance, improvidence, 
 timidity are morally wrong. Still, as in other cases, a man 
 is not truly virtuous on such points, till he loves them for 
 their own sake, and even performs them without an effort. 
 These prudential qualities having an influence on the will, 
 resemble in that the other constituents of Conscience. As 
 a final result, all those sentiments whose object is a state 
 of the will become intimately and inseparably blended in the 
 unity of Conscience, the arbiter and judge of human actions, 
 the lawful authority over every motive to conduct. 
 
 In this grand coalition of the public and the private feel- 
 ings, he sees a decisive illustration of the reference of moral 
 sentiments to the Will. He farther recognizes in it a solution 
 of the great problem of the relation of virtue to private interest. 
 Qualities useful to ourselves are raised to the rank of virtues ; 
 and qualities useful to others are converted into pleasures. 
 In moral reasonings, we are enabled to bring home virtuous 
 inducements by the medium of self-interest ; we can assure a 
 man that by cultivating the disposition towards other men's 
 happiness he gains a source of happiness to himself. 
 
 The question, Why we do not morally approve in- 
 voluntary actions, is now answered. Conscience is associated 
 exclusively with the dispositions and actions of voluntary 
 agents. Conscience and Will are co-extensive. 
 
 A difi&culty remains. * If moral approbation involve no 
 perception of beneficial tendency, how do we make out the 
 coincidence of the two ? ' It might seem that the foundation 
 of morals is thus made to rest on a coincidence that is 
 mysterious and fantastic. According to the author, the con- 
 clusive answer is this. Although Conscience rarely con- 
 templates anything so distant as the welfare of all sentient 
 beings, yet in detail it obviously points to the production of 
 happiness. The social affections all promote happiness. 
 Every one must observe the tendency of justice to the welfare
 
 264 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — MACKINTOSH. 
 
 of society. The angry passions, as ministers of morality, 
 remove hindrances to human welfare. The private desires 
 have respect to our own happiness. Every element of con- 
 science has thus some portion of happiness for its object. All 
 the affections contribute to the general well-being, although it 
 is not necessary, nor would it be fit, that the agent should he 
 distracted by the contemplation of that vast and remote object. 
 
 To sum up Mackintosh : — 
 
 I. — On the Standard, he pronounces for Utility, with 
 certain modifications and explanations. The Utility is the 
 remote and final justification of all actions accounted right, 
 but not the immediate motive in the mind of the agent. [It 
 may justly be feared, that, by placing so much stress on the 
 delights attendant on virtuous action, he gives an opening for 
 the admission o^ seiithnent into the consideration of Utility.] 
 
 II. — In the Ps^-^chology of Ethics, he regards the Con- 
 science as a derived or generated faculty, the result of a 
 series of associations. He assigns the primary feelings that 
 enter into it, and traces the different stages of the growth. 
 The distinctive feature of Conscience is its close relation to 
 the Will. 
 
 He does not consider the problem of Liberty and Necessity. 
 
 He makes Disinterested Sentiment a secondary or derived 
 feeling — a stage on the road to Conscience. While maintain- 
 ing strongly the disinterested character of the sentiment, he 
 considers that it may be fully accounted for by derivation 
 from our primitive self-regarding feelings, and denies, as 
 against Stewart and Brown, that this gives it a selfish cha- 
 racter. 
 
 He carries the process of associative growth a step 
 farther, and maintains that we re-convert disinterestedness 
 into a lofty delight— the delight in goodness for its own sake ; 
 to attain this characteristic is the highest mark of a virtuous 
 character. 
 
 III. — -His Summum Bonum, or Theory of Happiness, is 
 contained in his much iterated doctrine of the deliciousness 
 of virtuous conduct, by which he proposes to effect the recon- 
 ciliation of our own good with the good of others — prudence 
 with virtue. Virtue is ' an inward fountain of pure delight;' 
 the pleasure of benevolence, ' if it could become lasting and 
 intense, would convert the heart into a heaven ;' they alone 
 are happy, or truly virtuous, that do not need the motive of a 
 regard to outward consequences. 
 
 His chief Ethical precursor in this vein is Shaftesbury ;
 
 PLEASUREABLE AND PAINFUL SENSATIONS. 265 
 
 but lie is easily able to produce from Theologians abundant 
 iterations of it. 
 
 IV. — He has no special views as to the Moral Code. "With 
 reference to the inducements to virtue, he thinks he has a 
 powerful lever in the delights that the virtuous disposition 
 confers on its owner. 
 
 V. — His theory of the connexion of Ethics and Politics is 
 stated in his account of Bentham, whom he charges with 
 making morality too judicial. 
 
 YI. — The relations of Morality to Religion are a matter of 
 frequent and special consideration in M .ckintosh. 
 
 JAMES MILL. [1783-1836.] 
 
 The work of James Mill, entitled the 'Analysis of the 
 Human Mind,' is distinguished, in the first place, by the 
 studied precision of its definitions of all leading terms, giving 
 it a permanent value as a logical discipline; and in the second 
 place, by the successful carr3'ing out of the principle of Asso- 
 ciation in explaining the powers of the mind. The author 
 endeavours to show that the moral feelings a.re a complex 
 product or growth, of which the ultimate constituents are our 
 pleasurable and painful sensations. We shall present a brief 
 abstract of the course of his exposition, as given in Chapters 
 XVII.— XXIII. of the Analysis. 
 
 The pleasurable and painful sensations being assumed, it 
 is important to take notice of their Causes, both immediate 
 and remote, by whose means they can be secured or avoided. 
 We contract a habit of passing rapidly from every sensation 
 to its procuring cause ; and, as in the typical case of money, 
 these causes are apt to rank higher in importance, to take a 
 greater hold on the mind, than the sensations themselves. 
 The mind is not much interested in attending to the sensa- 
 tion ; that can provide for itself. The mind is deeply interested 
 in attending to the cause. 
 
 The author next (XIX.) considers the Ideas of the plea- 
 surable sensations, and of the causes of them. The Idea of 
 a pain is not the same as the pain ; it is a complex state, con- 
 taining, no doubt, an element of pain ; and the name for it is 
 Aversion. So the name for an idea of pleasure is Desire. 
 Now, these states extend to the causes of pains and pleasures, 
 though in other respects indifferent ; we have an aversion for 
 a certain drug, but there is in this a transition highly illustra- 
 tive of the force of the associating principle ; our real aversion 
 12
 
 266 ETHICAL bYSTEMS — JAMES MILL. 
 
 being to a bitter sensation, and not to the visible appearance 
 of the drug. 
 
 Alluding (XX.) to the important difference between past 
 and future time in our ideas of pleasure and pain, he defines 
 Hope and Fear as the contemplation of a pleasurable or of a 
 painful sensation, as future, but not certain. 
 
 When the immediate causes of pleasurable and painful 
 sensations are viewed as past or future, we have a new 
 series of states. In the past, they are called Love and 
 Hatred, or Aversion ; in the future, the idea of a pleasure, as 
 certain in its arrival, is Joy — as probable, Hope ; the idea of 
 future pain (certain) is not marked otherwise than by the 
 names Hatred, Aversion, Horror; the idea of the pain as 
 probable is some form of dread. 
 
 The remote causes of our pleasures and pains are more 
 interesting than the immediate causes. The reason is their 
 wide command. Thus, Wealth, Power, and Dignity are causes 
 cf a great range of pleasures : Poverty, Impotence, and Con- 
 temptibility, of a wide range of pains. For one thing, the 
 first are the means of procuring the services of our fellow- 
 creatures ; this fact is of the highest consequence in morals, as 
 showing how deeply our happiness is entwined with the 
 actions of other beings. The author illustrates at length the 
 influence of these remote and comprehensive agencies ; and as 
 it is an influence entirely the result of association, it attests 
 the magnitude of that power of the mind. 
 
 But our fellow -creatures are the subjects of affections, not 
 merely as the instrumentality set in motion by Wealth, Power, 
 and Dignity, but in their proper personality. This leads the 
 author to the consideration of the pleasurable affections of 
 Friendship, Kindness, Family, Country, Party, Mankind. He 
 resolves them all into associations with our primitive plea- 
 sures. Thus, to take the example of Kindness, which will 
 show how he deals with the disinterested affection ; — The idea 
 of a man enjoying a train of pleasures, or happiness, is felt by 
 everybody to be a pleasurable idea ; this can arise from 
 nothing but the association of our own pleasures with the 
 idea of his pleasures. The pleasurable association compof-iod 
 of the ideas of a man and of his pleasures, and the painful 
 association composed of the idea of a man and of his pains, are 
 both Affections included under one name Kindness ; although 
 in the second case it has the more specific nara^ Compassion. 
 
 Under the other heads, the author's elucidation is fuller, 
 but his principle is the same.
 
 THE SPECIES OF ACTIONS ENTERING INTO MORALITY. 267 
 
 He next goes on (XXII.) to Motives. When the idea of 
 a Pleasure is associated with an action of our own as the 
 cause, that peculiar state of mind is generated, called a 
 motive. The idea of the pleasure, without the idea of an 
 action for gaining it, does not amount to a motive. Every 
 pleasure may become a motive, but every motive does not end 
 in action, because there may be counter-motives; and the 
 strength attained by motives depends greatly on education 
 The facility of being acted on by motives of a particular kind 
 is a Disposition. We have, in connexion with all our leading 
 pleasures and pains, names indicating their motive efficacy. 
 Gluttony is both motive and disposition; so Lust and Drunken- 
 ness ; with the added sense of reprobation in all the three. 
 Friendship is a name for Affection, Motive, and Disposition. 
 
 In Chapter XXIII., the author makes the application of his 
 principles to Ethics. The actions emanating from ourselves, 
 combined with those emanating from our fellow-creatures, ex- 
 ceed all other Causes of our Pleasures and Pains. Consequently 
 such actions are objects of intense affections or regards. 
 
 The actions whence advantages accrue are classed under 
 the four titles, Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, Benevolence. 
 The two first — Prudence and Fortitude [in fact. Prudence] — 
 express acts useful to ourselves in the first instance, to others 
 in the second instance. Justice and Benevolence express acts 
 useful to others in the first instance, to ourselves in the second 
 instance. We have two sets of association with all these acts, 
 one set with them as our own, another set with them as other 
 people's. With Prudence (and Fortitude) as our own acts, 
 we associate good to ourselves, either in the shape of positive 
 pleasure, or as warding off pain. Thus Labour is raised to 
 importance by numerous associations of both classes. Farther, 
 Prudence, involving the foresight of a train of consequences, 
 requires a large measure of knowledge of things animate and 
 inanimate. Courage is defined by the author, incurring the 
 chance of Evil, that is danger, for the sake of a preponderant 
 good ; which, too, stands in need of knowledge. Now, when 
 the ideas of acts of Piudence and acts of Courage have been 
 associated sufficiently often with beneficial consequences, they 
 become pleasurable ideas, or Affections, and they have also, 
 from the nature of the case, the character of Motives. In 
 short, there is nothing in prudential conduct that may not be 
 explained by a series of associations, grounded on our plea- 
 surable and painful sensations, on the ideas of them, and on 
 the ideas of their causes.
 
 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — JAMES MILL. 
 
 The real difficulty attaches to Justice and to Beneficence. 
 
 As to Justice. Men, in society, have found it essential fof 
 mutual benefit, that the powers of Individuals over the general 
 causes of good should be fixed by certain rules, that is, Laws, 
 Acts done in accordance with these rules are Just Acts ; al- 
 though, wben duly considered, they are seen to include the 
 main fact of beneficence, the good of others. To the perform- 
 ance of a certain class of just acts, our Fellow- creatures annex 
 penalties ; these, therefore, are determine -1 partly by Prudence ; 
 others remain to be performed voluntarily, and for them the 
 motive is Beneficenco. 
 
 What then is the source of the motives towards Bene- 
 ficence ? How do the ideas of acts, having the good of our 
 fellows for their end, become Affections and Motives ? In the 
 first place, we have associations of pleasure with all the 
 pleasurable feelings of fellow-creatures, and hence, with such 
 acts of ours as yield them pleasure. In the second place, 
 those are the acts for procuring to ourselves the favourable 
 Disposition of our Fellow-men, so that we have farther asso- 
 ciations of the pleasures flowing from such favourable dispo- 
 sitions. Thus, by the union of two sets of influences — two 
 streams of association — the Idea of our beneficent acts becomes 
 a pleasurable idea, that is, an Affection, and, being connected 
 with actions of ours, is also a Motive. Such is the genesis of 
 Beneficent or Disinterested impulses. 
 
 We have next a class of associations wnth other men's 
 performance of the several virtues. The Prudence and the 
 Fortitude of others are directly beneficial to them, and in- 
 directly beneficial to us ; and with both these consequences 
 we have necessarily agreeable associations. The Justice and 
 the Beneficence of other men are so directly beneficial to the 
 objects of them, that it is impossible for us not to have plea- 
 surable associations with acts of Justice and Beneficence, first 
 as concerns ourselves in particular, and next as concerns the 
 acts generally. Hence, therefore, the rise of Affections and 
 Motives in favour of these two virtues. As there is nothing 
 so deeply interesting to me as that the acts of men, regarding 
 myself immediately, should be acts of Justice and Beneficence, 
 and the acts regarding themselves immediately, acts of Pru- 
 dence and Fortitude ; it follows that I have an interest in all 
 such acts of my own as operate to cause those acts in others. 
 By similar acts of our own, by the manifestation of dispositions 
 to perform those acts, we obtain their reciprocal performance 
 by others. There is thus a highly complex, concurring stimulus
 
 SUPPORTS TO BENEFICENCE. 269 
 
 to acts of virtue, — a large aggregate of influences of association, 
 the power at bottom being still our own pleasurable and pain- 
 ful sensations. We must add the ascription of Praise, an 
 influence remarkable for its wide propagation and great efii- 
 cacj over men's minds, and no less remarkable as a proof of 
 the range of the associating principle, especially in its character 
 of Fame, which, in the case of future fame, is a purely ideal 
 or associated delight. Equally, if not more, striking are the 
 illustrations from Dispraise. The associations of Disgrace, 
 even when not suflicieut to restrain the performance of acts 
 abhorred by mankind, are able to produce the horrors of 
 Remorse, the mos^. intense of human sufferings. The love of 
 praise leads by one step to the love of Praiseworthiness ; the 
 dread of blame, to the dread of Blameworthiness. 
 
 Of these various Motives, the most constant in operation, 
 and the most in use in moral training, are Praise and Blame. 
 It is the sensibility to Praise and Blame — the joyful feelings 
 associated with the one, and the dread associated with the 
 other — that gives effect to Popolar Opinion, or the Popular 
 Sanction, and, with reference to men generally, the Moral 
 Sanction. 
 
 The other motives to virtue, namely, the association of our 
 own acts of Justice and Beneficence, as cause, with other 
 men's as eff'ects, are subject to strong counteraction, for we 
 can rarely perform such acts without sacrifice to ourselves. 
 Still, there is in all men a certain surplus of motive from this 
 cause, just as there is a surplus from the association of acts of 
 ours, hostile to other men, with a return of hostility on their 
 part. 
 
 The best names for the aggregate Aff'ection, Motive, and 
 Disposition in this important region of conduct, are Moral 
 Approhation and Disapprobation. The terms Moral Sense, 
 Sense of Right and Wrong, Love of Virtue and Hatred of 
 Vice, are not equally appropriate. Virtue and Morality arc 
 other synonyms. 
 
 In the work entitled, 'A Fragment on Mackintosh,* there 
 are afforded farther illustrations of the author's derivation of 
 the Moral Sentiment, together with an exposition and defence 
 of Utility as the standard, in which his views are substantially at 
 one with Bentham. Two or three references will be sufficient. 
 
 In the statement of the questions in dispute in Morals, 
 he objects to the words ' test' and ' criterion,' as expressing 
 the standard. He considers it a m.istake to designate as a 
 * test' what is the thing itself; the test of Morality is Morality
 
 270 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— JAMES MILL. 
 
 Properly, tlie thing testing is one thing ; the thing tested 
 another thing. The same objection would apply to the use of 
 the word Standard ; so that the only form of the first question 
 of Ethics would be, What is morality ? What does it con- 
 sist in ? [The remark is just, but somewhat hypercritical. 
 The illustration from Chemical testing is not true in fact ; 
 the test of gold is some essential attribute of gold, as its weight. 
 And when we wish to determine as to a certain act, whether 
 it is a moral act, we compare it with what we deem the essen- 
 tial quality of moral acts — Utility, our Moral Instinct, &c. — 
 and the operation is not improperly called testing the act. 
 Since, therefore, whatever we agree upon as the essence of 
 morality, must be practically used by us as a test, criterion, 
 or standard, there cannot be much harm in calling this essen- 
 tial quality the standard, although the designation is to a cer- 
 tain extent figurative.] 
 
 The author has some additional remarks on the derivation 
 of our Disinterested feelings : he reiterates the position ex- 
 pressed in the ' Analysis,' that although we have feelings 
 directly tending to the good of others, they are nevertheless 
 the growth of feelings that are rooted in self. That feelings 
 should be detached from their original root is a well known 
 phenomenon of the mind. 
 
 His illustrations of Utility are a valuable contribution to 
 the defence of that doctrine. He replies to most of the com- 
 mon objections. Mackintosh had urged that the reference to 
 Utility would be made a dangerous pretext for allowing ex- 
 ceptions to common rules. Mill expounds at length (p. 246) 
 the formation of moral rules, and retorts that there are rules 
 expressly formed to make exceptions to other rules, as jasdce 
 before generosity, charity begins at home, &c. 
 
 He animadverts with great severity on Mackintosh's doc- 
 trines, as to the delight of virtue for its own sake, and the 
 special contact of moral feelings with the will. Allowance 
 being made for the great diiFerence in the way that the two 
 writers express themselves, they are at one in maintaining 
 Utility to be the ultimate standard, and in regarding Conscience 
 as a derived faculty of the mind. 
 
 The author's handling of Ethics does not extend beyond 
 the first and second topics — the Standard and the Faculty. 
 His Standard is Utility. The Faculty is based on our Plea- 
 sures and Pains, with which there are multiplied associations. 
 Disinterested Sentiment is a real fact, but has its origin io 
 our own proper pleasures and pains.
 
 MORALITY COMES UNDER LAW. 271 
 
 Mill considers that the existing moral rules are all based 
 on our estimate, correct or incorrect, of Utility. 
 
 JOHN AUSTIN. [1790-1859.] 
 
 Austin, in his Lectures on ' The Province of Jurispru- 
 dence determined,' has discussed the leading questions of 
 Ethics. We give an abstract of the Ethical part. 
 
 Lecture I. Law, in its largest meaning, and omitting 
 metaphorical applications, embraces Laws set by God to his 
 creatures, and Laws set by man to man. Of the laws set by 
 man to man, some are established by political superiors, or by 
 persons exercising government in nations or political societies. 
 This is law in the usual sense of the word, forming the subject 
 of Jurisprudence. The author terms it Positive Law. There 
 is another class of laws not set by political superiors in that 
 capacity. Yet some of these are properly termed laws, 
 although others are only so by a close analogy. There is no 
 name for the laws proper, but to the others are applied such 
 names as ''moral rales,' 'the 'moral law,' ''general ov public 
 opinion^'' ' the law of honour or of fashion.'' The author pro- 
 poses for these laws the name positive morality. The laws now 
 enumerated differ in many important respects, but agree in 
 this — that all of them are set hij intelligent and rational beings 
 to intelligent and rational beings. There is a figurative appli- 
 cation of the word ' law,' to the uniformities of the natural 
 world, through which the field of jurisprudence and morals 
 has been deluged with muddy speculation. 
 
 Laws properly so called are commands. A command is 
 the signification of a desire or wish, accompanied with the 
 power and the purpose to inflict evil if that desire is not com- 
 plied with. The person so desired is hound or obliged, or 
 placed under a duti/, to obey. Refusal is disobedience, or 
 violation of duty. The evil to be inflicted is called a sanction, 
 or an enforcement of obedience ; the tevm. 2^unishment expresses 
 one class of sanctions. 
 
 The term sanction is improperly applied to a Reward. 
 We cannot say that an action is commanded, or that obedience 
 is constrained or enforced by the offer of a reward. Again, 
 when a reward is offered, a right and not an obligation is cre- 
 ated : the imperative function passes to the party receiving 
 the reward. In short, it is only by conditional evil, that duties 
 are sanctioned or enforced. 
 
 The correct meaning of superior and inferior is determined 
 by command and obedience.
 
 272 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — AUSTIN. 
 
 Lecture II. The Divine Laim are the known commands 
 of the Deity, enforced bj the evils that we may suffer here or 
 hereafter for breaking thera. Some of these laws are revealed^ 
 others unrevealed, Paley and others have proved that it was 
 not the purpose of Revelation to disclose the whole of our 
 duties ; the Light of Nature is an additional source. But 
 how are we to interpret this Light of Nature ? 
 
 The various hypotheses for resolving this question may be 
 reduced to two : ( 1 ) an Innate Sentiment, called a Moral 
 Sense, Common Sense, Practical Reason, &c. ; and (2) the 
 Theory of Utility. 
 
 The author avows his adherence to the theory of Utility, 
 which he connects with the Divine Benevolence in the manner 
 of Benthara. God designs the happiness of sentient beings. 
 Some actions forward that purpose, others frustrate it. The 
 first, God has enjoined ; the second. He has forbidden. 
 Knowing, therefore, the tendency of any action, we know the 
 Divine command with respect to it. 
 
 The tendency of an action is all its consequences near and 
 remote, certain and probable, direct and collateral. A petty 
 theft, or the evasion of a trifling tax, may be insignificant, or 
 even good, in the direct and immediate consequences ; but 
 before the full tendency can be weighed, we must resolve the 
 question : — What would be the probable effect on the general 
 happiness or good, if similar acts, or omissions, were general 
 or frequent ? 
 
 When the theory of Utility is correctly stated, the current 
 objections are easily refuted. As viewed by the author, 
 Utility is not the fountaiyi or source of our duties ; this must 
 be commands and sanctions. But it is the index of the will 
 of the law-giver, who is presumed to have for his chief end 
 the happiness or good of mankind. 
 
 The most specious objection to Utility is the supposed 
 necessity of going through a calculation of the consequences 
 of every act that we have to perform, an operation often 
 beyond our power, and likely to be abused to forward our 
 private wishes. To this, the author replies first, that sup- 
 posing utility our only index, we must make the best of it. 
 Of course, if we were endowed with a moral sense, a special 
 organ for ascertaining our duties, the attempt to displace 
 that invincible consciousness, and to thrust the principle of 
 utility into the vacant seat, would be impossible and absurd. 
 
 According to the theory of Utility, our conduct would 
 conform to rules inferred from the tendencies of actions, but
 
 OBJECTIONS TO UTILITY ANSWERED. 273 
 
 would not be determined bj a direc- resort to tKe principle of 
 general utility. Utility would be the ultimate, not the im- 
 mediate test. To preface each act or forbearance by a con- 
 jecture and comparison of con^Jequences were both superfluous 
 and mischievous : — superflaous, inasmuch as the result is 
 already embodied in a known rule ; and mischievous, inas- 
 much as the process, if performed on the spur of the occasion, 
 would probably be faulty. 
 
 With the rules are associated sentiments, the result of the 
 Divine, or other, command to obey the rules. It is a gross 
 and flagrant error to talk of substituting calculation for senti- 
 ment; this is to oppose the rudder to the sail. Sentiment 
 without calculation were capricious ; calculation without 
 sentiment is inert. 
 
 There are cases where the specific consequences of an 
 action are so momentous as to overbear the rule ; for ex- 
 ample, resistance to a bad government, which the author 
 calls an anomalous question, to be tried not by the rule, but 
 by a direct resort to the ultimate or presiding principle, and 
 by a separate calculation of good and evil. Such was the 
 political emergency of the Commonwealth, and the American 
 revolution. It would have been well, the author thinks, if 
 utility had been the sole guide in both cases. 
 
 There is a second objection to Utility, more perplexing 
 to deal with. How can we know fully and correctly all the 
 consequences of actions ? Tlio answer is that Ethics, as a 
 science of observation and induction, has been formed, through 
 a long succession of ages, by many and separate contributions 
 from many and separate discoverers. Like all other sciences, 
 it is progressive, although unfortunately, subject to special 
 drawbacks. The men that have enquired, or affected to 
 enquire, into Ethics, have rarely been impartial ; they have 
 laboured under prejudices or sinister interests ; and have been 
 the advocates of foregone conclusions. There is not on this 
 subject a concurrence or agreement of numerous and impartial 
 enquirers. Indeed, many of the legal and moral rules of the 
 most civilized communities arose in the infancy of the human 
 mind, partly from caprices of the fancy (nearly omnipotent 
 with barbarians), and partly from an imperfect apprehension 
 of general utility, the result of a narrow experience. Thus 
 the diffusion and the advancement of ethical truth encounter 
 great and peculiar obstacles, only to be removed by a better 
 general education extended to the mass of the people. It is 
 desirable that the community should be indoctrinated with
 
 274 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — AUSTIN. 
 
 Bound views of property, and with the dependence of wealth 
 upon the true principle of population, discovered by Malthus, 
 all which they are competent to understand. 
 
 The author refers to Paley's Moral Philosophy as an 
 example of the perverting tendency of narrow and domineering 
 interests in the domain of ethics. With many colnmendable 
 points, there is, in that work, much ignoble truckling to the 
 dominant and influential few, and a deal of shabby sophistry 
 in defending abuses that the few were interested in upholding. 
 
 AiS a farther answer to the second objection, he remarks, 
 that it applies to every theory of ethics that supposes our 
 duties to be set by the Deity. Christianity itself is defective, 
 considered as a system of rules for the guidance of human 
 conduct. 
 
 He then turns to the alternative of a Moral Sense. This 
 involves two assumptions. 
 
 First, Certain sentiments, or feelings of approbation or 
 disapprobation, accompany our conceptions of certain human 
 actions. These feelings are neither the result of our reflection 
 on the tendencies of actions, nor the result of education ; the 
 sentiments would follow the conception, although we had 
 neither adverted to the good or evil tendency of the actions, 
 nor become aware of the opinions of others regarding them. 
 This theory denies that the sentiments known to exist can bo 
 produced by education. We approve and disapprove of 
 actions we know not why. 
 
 The author adapts Paley's supposition of the savage, in 
 order to express strongly what the moral sense implies. But 
 we will confine ourselves to his reasonings. Is there, he asks, 
 any evidence of our being gifted with such feelings ? The 
 very putting of such a question would seem, a sufficient proof 
 that we are not so endowed. There ought to be no more 
 doubt about them, than about hunger or thirst. 
 
 It is alleged in their favour that our judgments of rectitude 
 and depravity are immediate and voluntary. The reply is 
 that sentiments begotten by association are no less prompt and 
 involuntary than our instincts. Our response to a money 
 gain, or a money loss, is as prompt as our compliance with the 
 primitive appetites of the system. We begin by loving know- 
 ledge as a means to ends ; but, in time, the end is inseparably 
 associated with the instrument. So a moral sentiment 
 dictated by utility, if often exercised, would be rapid and 
 direct in its operation. 
 
 It is farther alleged, as a proof of the innate character of
 
 PKEVAILING MISCONCEPTIONS EEGAKDING UTILITY. 275 
 
 the moral judgments, that the moral sentiments of all men are 
 precisely alike. The argument may be put thus : — IS'o opinion 
 or sentiment resulting from observation and induction is held 
 or felt by all mankind : Observation and induction, as applied 
 to the same subject, lead dijQTerent men to different conclusions. 
 Now, the judgments passed internally on the rectitude or 
 pravity of actions, or the moral sentiments, are precisely alike 
 with all men. Therefore, our moral sentiments are not the 
 result of our inductions of the tendencies of actions ; nor were 
 they derived from others, and impressed by authority and 
 example. Consequently, the moral sentiments are instinctive, 
 or ultimate and inscrutable facts. 
 
 To refute such an argument is superfluous ; it is based on 
 a groundless assertion. The moral sentiments of men have 
 differed to infinity. With regard to a few classes of actions, the 
 moral judgments of most, though not of all, men have been 
 alike. ^Yith regard to others, they have differed, through every 
 shade or degree, from slight diversity to direct opposition. 
 
 But this is exactly what we should expect on the principle 
 of utility. With regard to some actions, the dictates of utility 
 are the same at all times and places, and are so obvious as 
 hardly to admit of mistake or doubt On the other hand, 
 men's positions in different ages and nations are in many 
 respects widely different ; so that wbat was useful there and 
 then is useless or pernicious here and now. Moreover, since 
 human tastes are various, and human reason is fallible, men's 
 moral sentiments often widely differ in the same positions. 
 
 He next alludes to some prevaihng misconceptions in 
 regard to utility. One is the confusion of the test with the 
 motive. The general good is the test, or rather the index to 
 the ultimate measure or test, the Divine commands ; but it is 
 not in all, or even in most cases, the motive or inducement. 
 
 The principle of utility does not demand that we shall 
 always or habitually attend to the general good; although it 
 does demand that we shall not pursue our own particular 
 good by means that are inconsistent with that paramount 
 object. It permits the pursuit of our own pleasures as plea- 
 sure. Even as regards the good of others, it commonly re- 
 quires us to be governed by partial, rather than by general 
 benevolence ; by the narrower circle of family and friends 
 rather than by the larger humanity that embraces mankind. 
 It requires us to act where we act ivitli the utmost effect ; that 
 is, within the sphere best known to us. The limitations to 
 this principle, the adjustment of the selfish to the social mo-
 
 276 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— AUSTIN. 
 
 tives, of partial sympathy to general benevolence, belong tO 
 the detail of ethics. 
 
 The second misconception of Utility is to confound it with 
 a particular hypothesis concerning the Origin of Berxevolence, 
 commonly styled the selfish system. Hartley and some others 
 having affirmed that benevolence is not an ultimate fact, but 
 an emanation from self-love, through the association of ideas, 
 it has been fancied that these writers dispute the existence of 
 disinterested benevolence or sympathy. Now, th'S selfish 
 system, in its literal import, is flatly inconsistent with obvious 
 facts, but this is not the system contended for by the writers in 
 question. Still, this distortion has been laid hold oi by the 
 opponents of utility, and maintained to be a necessary part of 
 that system ; hence the supporters of utility are styled ' selfish, 
 sordid, and cold-blooded calculators.' But, as already said, 
 the theory of utility is not a theory of motives ; it holds equally 
 good whether benevolence be what it is called, or merely a 
 provident regard to self : whether it be a simple fact, or en- 
 gendered by association on self-regard. Paley mixed up Utility 
 with self- regarding mo/ives ; but his theory of these is miwrably 
 shallow and defective, and amounted to a denial of genuine 
 benevolence or sympathy. 
 
 Austin's Fifth Lecture is devoted to a full elucidation of 
 the meanings of Law. He had, at the outset, made the dis- 
 tinction between Laws properly so called, and Laws impro- 
 perly so called. Of the second class, some are closely allied 
 to Laws proper, possessing in fict their main or essential 
 attributes ; others are laws only by metaphor. Laws proper, 
 and those closely allied to them among laws proper, are 
 divisible into three classes. The first are the Divine Law or 
 Laws. The secjond is named Positive Law or Positive Laws ; 
 and corresponds with Legislation. The third he calls Positive 
 Morality, or positive moral rules ; it is the same as Morals or 
 Ethics. 
 
 Reverting to the definition of Law, he gives the following 
 three essentials : — 1. Every law is a command, and emanates 
 from a determinate source or another. 2. Every sanction is 
 an eventual evil annexed to a command. 3. Every duty sup- 
 poses a com?nand whereby it is created. Now, tried by these 
 tests, the laws of God are laws proper ; so are positive laws, 
 by which are meant laws established by monarchs as supreme 
 political superiors, by subordinate political superiors, and by 
 subjects, as private persons, in pursuance of legal rights. 
 
 But as regards Positive Morality, or moral rules, some
 
 MO"RAL ETJLT^JS AS LAWS. 277 
 
 have BO far the essentials of an imperative law or rale, that they 
 are rules set by men to men. Bat they are not set by men as 
 political superiors, nor by men as private persons, in pursu- 
 ance of legal rights ; in this respect they differ from positive 
 laws, they are not clothed with legal sanctions. 
 
 The most important; department of positive morality 
 includes the laws set or imposed hij general opinion^ as for ex- 
 ample the laws of honour, and of fashion. Now these are not 
 laws in the strict meaning of the word, because the authors 
 are an indeterniinate or uncertain aggregate of persons. Still, 
 they have the closest alliance with Laws proper, seeing that 
 being armed with a sanction, they impose a duty. The per- 
 sons obnoxious to the sanction generally do or forbear the 
 acts enjoined or forbidden ; which is all that can happen under 
 the highest type of law. 
 
 The author then refers to Locke's division of law, which, 
 although faulty in the analysis, aiid inaptly expressed, tallies 
 in the main with what he has laid down. 
 
 Of Metaphorical or figurativ^e laws, the most usual is that 
 suggested by the fact of uriifonnltij^ which is one of the ordi- 
 nary consequences of a law proper. Such are the laws of 
 nature, or the uniformities of co-existence and succession in 
 natural phenomena. 
 
 Another metaphorical extension is to a model or pattern, 
 because a law presents something as a guide to human con- 
 duct. In this sense, a man may set a law to himself, meaning 
 a plan or model, and not a law in the proper sense of a com- 
 mand. So a rule of art is devoid of a sanction, and therefore 
 of the idea of duty. 
 
 A confusion of ideas also exists as to the meaning of a 
 sanction. Bentham styles the evils arising in the course of 
 nature physical sanctions, as if the omission to guard against 
 fire were a sin or an immorality, punished by the destruction 
 of one's house. But aUhough this is an evil happening to a 
 rational being, and brought on by a voluntary act or omission, 
 it is not the result of a law in the proper sense of the term. 
 What is produced nataralli/, says Locke, is produced without 
 the intervention of a law. 
 
 Austin is thus seen to be one of the most strenuous advo- 
 cates of Utility as the Standard, and is distinguished for the 
 lucidity of his exposition, and the force of his replies to the 
 objections made against it. 
 
 He is also the best expounder of the relationship of 
 Morality to Law.
 
 278 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — WHEWELL. 
 
 WILLIAM WHEWELL. [1794-1866.) 
 
 Dr. Whewell's chief Ethical works are, ' Elements of 
 Morality, including Polity,' and * Lectures on the History of 
 Moral Philosophy in England.' 
 
 We may refer for his views to either work. The follow- 
 ing abstract is taken from the latest (4th) edition of his 
 Elements (1864). 
 
 In the Preface he indicates the general scope of the work. 
 Morality has its root in the Common Nature of Man ; a 
 scheme of Morality must conform to the Common Serise of 
 mankind, in so far as that is consistent with itself. Now, 
 this Common Sense of Mankind has in every age led to two 
 seemingly opposite schemes of Morality, the one making 
 Virtue, and the other making Fleasure, the rule of action. 
 On the one side, men ui'ge the claims of Rectitude, Duty, 
 Conscience, the Moral Faculty ; on the other, they declare 
 Utility, Expediency, Interest, Enjoyment, to be the proper 
 guides. 
 
 Both systems are liable to objections. Against the scheme 
 of Pleasure, it is urged that we never, in fact, identify virtue 
 as merely useful. Against the scheme of Virtue, it is main- 
 tained that virtue is a matter of opinion, and that Conscience 
 varies in different ages, countries, and persons. It is necessary 
 that a scheme of Morality should surmount both classes of 
 objections ; and the author therefore attempts a reconciliation 
 of the two opposing theories. 
 
 He prepares the way by asking, whether there are any 
 actions, or qualities of actions, universally approved ; and 
 whether there are any moral rules accepted by the Common 
 Sense of mankind as universally valid ? The reply is that 
 there are such, as, for example, the virtues termed Veracity, 
 Justice, Benevolence. He does not enquire why these are 
 approved ; he accepts the fact of the approval, and considers 
 that here we have the basis of a Moral System, not liable to 
 either of the opposing objections above recited. 
 
 He supposes, however, that the alleged agreement may be 
 challenged, /rsf, as not existing ; and next, as insufficient to 
 reason from. 
 
 1. It may be maintained that the excellence of the three 
 virtues named is not universally assented to ; departures from 
 them being allowed both in practice and in theory. The 
 answer is, that the principles may be admitted, although the 
 interpretation varies. Men allow Fidelity and Kindness to
 
 THERE ARE ACTIONS UNIVERSALLY APPROVED. 279 
 
 be virtues, although in an early stage of moral progress they 
 do not make the application beyond their own friends ; it is 
 only at an advanced stage that they include enemies. The 
 Romans at first held stranger and enemy to be synonymous ; 
 but afterwards they applauded the sentiment of the poet, 
 homo sum, &c. Moral principles must be what we approve 
 of, when we speak in the name of the whole human species. 
 
 2. It may be said that such principles are too vague and 
 loose to reason from. A verbal agreement in employing the 
 terms truthful, just, humane, does nob prove a real agreement 
 as to the actions ; and the particulars must be held as 
 explaining the generalities. 
 
 The author holds this objection to be erroneous ; and the 
 scheme of his work is intended to meet it. He proceeds as 
 follows : — 
 
 He allows that we must fix what is meant by right, which 
 carries with it the meaning of Virtue and of Duty. Now, in 
 saying an action is right, there is this idea conveyed, namely, 
 that we render such a reason for it, as shall be paramount 
 to all other considerations. Right must be the Supreme Rule. 
 How then are we to arrive at this rule ? 
 
 The supreme rule is the authority over all the faculties 
 and impulses ; and is made up of the partial rules according 
 to the separate faculties, powers, and impulses. We are to 
 look, in the first instance, to the several faculties or depart- 
 ments of the mind ; for, in connexion with each of these, we 
 shall find an irresistible propriety inherent in the very nature 
 of the faculty. 
 
 For example, man lives in the society of fellow-men ; his 
 actions derive their meaning from this position. He has the 
 faculty of Speech, whereby his actions are connected with 
 other men. Now, as man is under a supreme moral rule, 
 [this the author appears to assume in the very act of proving 
 it], there must be a rule of right as regards the use of Speech ; 
 which rule can be no other than truth and falsehood. In 
 other words, veracity is a virtue. 
 
 Again, man, as a social being, has to divide with others 
 the possession of the world, in other words, to possess Pro- 
 perty ; whence there must be a rule of Property, that is, 
 each man is to have his own. Whence Justice is seen to be 
 a virtue. 
 
 The author thinks himself at one with the common notions 
 of mankind in pronouncing that the Faculty of Speech, the 
 Desire of Possessions, and the Affections, are properly rega-
 
 280 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — WHEWELL. 
 
 lated, not by any extraneous purposes or ends to be served 
 by them, but by Veracity, Justice, and Humanity, respec- 
 tively. 
 
 He explains bis position farther, by professing to follow 
 Butler in the doctrine that, through the mere contemplation 
 of our human faculties and springs of action, we can discern 
 certain relations which must exist among them by the neces- 
 sity of man's moral being. Butler maintains that, by merely 
 comparing appetite with conscience as springs of action, we 
 Bee conscience is superior and ought to rule ; and Whewell 
 conceives this to be self-evident, and expresses it by stating 
 that tlie Lower parts of our nature are to he governed by the 
 Higher. Men being considered as social beings, capable of 
 mutual understanding through speech, it is self-evident that 
 their rule must include veracity. In like manner, it is self- 
 evident from the same consideration of social relationship, 
 that each man should abstain from violence and anger to- 
 wards others, that is, love his fellow-men. 
 
 Remarking on the plea of the utilitarian, that truth may 
 be justified by the intolerable consequences of its habitual 
 violation, he urges that this is no reason against its being 
 intuitively perceived: just as the axioms of geometry, although 
 intuitively felt, are confi.rmed by showing the incongruities 
 following on their denial. He repeats the common allegation 
 in favour of a priori principles generally, that no consideration 
 of evil consequences would give the sense of universality of 
 obligation attaching to the fundamental moral maxims ; and 
 endeavours to show that his favourite antithesis of Idea and 
 J'ac^ conciliates the internal essence and the external conditions 
 of morality. The Idea is invariable and universal ; the Fact, 
 or outward circumstances, may vary historically and geo- 
 graphically. Morality must in some measure be dependent 
 on Law, but yet there is an Idea of Justice above law. 
 
 It very naturally occurred to many readers of Whewell's 
 scheme, that in so far as he endeavours to give any reason for 
 the foundations of morality, he runs in a vicious circle. He 
 proposes to establish his supreme universal rule, by showing 
 it to be only a samming up of certain rules swaying the several 
 portions or departments of our nature — Veracity, Justice, &c., 
 while, in considering the obligation of these rules, he assumes 
 that man is a moral being, which is another way of saying 
 that he is to be under a supreme moral rule. In his latest 
 edition, the author has replied to this charge, but so briefly 
 as to cast no new light on his position. He only repeats that
 
 THE SPRINGS OF ACTIOX 281 
 
 the Supreme rule of Human Action is given by the constitn- 
 tion and conditions of human nature. His ethical principle 
 may be not unfairly expressed by saying, that he recognizes a 
 certain intrinsic fitness in exercising the organ of speech 
 according to its social uses, that is, in promoting a right 
 understanding among men ; and so with Justice, as the fitness 
 of property, and Humanity, as the fitness of the Affections. 
 This fitness is intuitively felt. Human happiness is admitted 
 to be a consequence of these rules ; but happiness is not a 
 sufficient end in itself; morality is also an end in itself. Human 
 happiness is not to be conceived or admitted, except as con- 
 taining a moral element; in addition to the direct gratifications 
 of human life, we must include the delight of virtue. [How 
 men can be compelled to postpone their pleasurable sense of 
 the good things of life, till they have contracted a delight ia 
 virtue for its own sake, the author does not say. It has been 
 the great object of moralists in all ages, to impart by education 
 such a state of mind as to spoil the common gratifications, 
 if they are viciously procured ; the comparatively little suc- 
 cess of the endeavour, shows that nature has done little to 
 favour it.j 
 
 The foregoing is an abstract of the Introduction to the 
 4th Edition of the Elements of Morality. We shall present 
 the anther's views respecting the other questions of Morality 
 in the form of the usual summary. 
 
 I. — As regards the Standard, enough has been already 
 indicated. 
 
 II. — The Psychology of the Moral Faculty is given by 
 Whewell as part of a classification of our Active Powers, or, 
 as he calls them, Springs of Action. These are : I. — The 
 Ai^petites or Bodily Desires, as Hunger and Thirst, and the 
 desires of whatever things have been found to gratify the 
 senses. II. — The Affections^ which are directed to persons ; 
 they fall under the two heads Love and Anger. III. — The 
 Mental Desires, having for their objects certain abstractions. 
 They are the desire of Safety, including Security and Liberty ; 
 the desire of Having, or Property ; the desire of Society in 
 all its forms — Family Society and Civil Society, under which 
 is included the need of Mutual Understanding ; the desire of 
 Superiority ; and the Desire of Knowledge. IV. — The Moral 
 Sentiments. Our judgment of actions as right or wrong is 
 accompanied b}^ certain ASectious or Sentiments, named 
 Approbation and Disapprobation, Indignation and Esteem; 
 these are the Moral Sentiments. Y. — The liejiex Sentiments^
 
 282 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — WHEWELL. 
 
 namely, the desires of being Loved, of Esteem or Admiration, 
 of our own Approval; and generally all springs of action 
 designated by the word self — for example, self-love. 
 
 With regard to tlie Moral Sentiment, or Conscience, in 
 particular, the author's resolution of Morality into Moral 
 Rules, necessarily supposes an exercise of the Reason, to- 
 gether with the Affections above described. He expressly 
 mentions ' the Practical Reason, which guides us in applying 
 Rules to our actions, and in discerning the consequences of 
 actions.' He does not allow Individual Conscience as an ulti- 
 mate or supreme authority, but requires it to be conformed to 
 the Supreme Moral Rules, arrived at in the manner above 
 described. 
 
 On the subject of Disinterestedness, he maintains a modi- 
 fication of Paley's selfish theory. He allows that some persons 
 are so far disinterested as to be capable of benevolence and 
 self-sacrifice, without any motive of reward or punishment ; 
 but ' to require that all persons should be such, would be not 
 only to require what we certainly shall not tind, but to put 
 the requirements of our Morality in a shape in which it can- 
 not convince men.' Accordingly, like Paley, he places the 
 doctrine that ' to promote the happiness of others will lead to 
 our own happiness,' exclusively on the ground of Religion. 
 He honours the principle that ' virtue is happiness,' but pre- 
 fers for mankind generally the form, ' virtue is the way to 
 happiness.' In short, he places no reliance on the purely 
 Disinterested impulses of mankind, although he admits the 
 existence of such. 
 
 III. — He discusses the Summum Bonum, or Happiness, 
 only with reference to his Ethical theory. The attaining of 
 the objects of our desires yields Enjoyment or Pleasure, which 
 cannot be the supreme end of life, being distinguished from, 
 and opposed to. Duty. Happiness is Pleasure and Duty com- 
 bined and harmonized by Wisdom. * As moral beings, our 
 Happiness must be found in our Moral Progress, and in the 
 consequences of our Moral Progress ; we must be happy by 
 being virtuous.' 
 
 Ke coisplains of the moralists that reduce virtue to 
 Happiness (in the sense of human pleasure), that they fail 
 io provide a measure of happiness, or to resolve it into 
 definite elements ; and again urges the impossibility of calcu- 
 lating the whole consequences of an action upon human 
 happiness. 
 
 rV'. — With respect to the Moral Code, Whewell'a arrange*
 
 THE MOllAL CODE. 283 
 
 ment is interwoven with his -derivation of moral rules. He 
 enumerates five Cardinal Virtues as the substance of morality : 
 — Benevolence, which gives expansion to our Love ; Justice, 
 as prescribing the measure of our Mental Desires ; Thutpi, the 
 haw of Speech in connexion with its purpose ; Pukity, the con- 
 trol of the Bodilii Appetites; and Order (obedience to the 
 Laws), which engages the Reason in the consideration of 
 Rules and Laws for detining Virtue and Vice. Thus the five 
 leading branches of virtue have a certain parallelism to the five 
 chief classes of motives — Bodily Appetites, Mental Desires, 
 Love and its opposite, the need of a Mutual Understanding, 
 and Reason. 
 
 As already seen, he considers it possible to derive every 
 one of these virtues from the consideration of man's situation 
 with reference to each : — Benevolence, or Humanity, from our 
 social relationship ; Justice, from the nature of Property ; 
 Truth, from the employment of Language for mutual Under- 
 standing; Parity, from considering the lower parts of our 
 nature (the Appetites) as governed by the higher ; and Order, 
 from the relation of Governor and Governed. By a self- 
 evident, intuitive, irresistible consideration of the circum- 
 stances of the case, we are led to these several virtues in the 
 detail, and their sum is the Supreme Rule of Life. 
 
 Not content with these five express moral principles, he 
 considers that the Supreme Law requires, as adjuncts, two 
 other virtues ; to these he gives the names Earnestness, or 
 Zeal, and Moral Purpose, meaning that everything whatso- 
 ever should be done for moral ends. 
 
 V. — The relation of Ethics to Politics in Whewell's system 
 is one of intimacy, and yet of independence. The Laws of 
 States supply the materials of human action, by defining pro- 
 perty, &c., for the time being; to which definitions morality 
 must correspond. On the other hand, morality supplies the 
 Idea, or ideal, of Justice, to which the Laws of Society should 
 progressively conform themselves. The Legislator and the 
 Jurist must adapt their legislation to the point of view of the 
 Moralist; and the moi^alist, while enjoining obedience to their 
 dictates, should endeavour to correct the inequalities produced 
 by laws, and should urge the improvement of Law, to make 
 it conformable to morality. The Moral is in this way con- 
 trasted with the Jural, a useful word of the author's coining. 
 He devotes a separate Book, entitled ' Rights and Obligations,' 
 to the foundations of Jurivsprudence. He makes a five-fold 
 division of Rights, grounded on his classification of the Springs
 
 284 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — FERKIER. 
 
 of Human Action ; Rights of Personal Security, Froperty, Ooih- 
 tractj Marriage, Government ; and justifies this division afl 
 against others proposed by jurists. 
 
 VI. — He introduces the Morality of Religion as a supple- 
 ment to the Morality of Reason. The separation of tlie two, 
 he remarks, ' enables us to trace the results of the moral 
 guidance of human Reason consistently and continuously, 
 while we still retain a due sense of the superior authority of 
 Religion.' As regards the foundations of Natural and Revealed 
 Religion, he adopts the line of argument most usual with 
 English Theologians. 
 
 JAMES FREDEEICK FERRIEE. [1808-64.] 
 
 In his 'Lectures on Greek Philosophy' (Remains, Vol. I.), 
 Ferrier has indicated his views on the leading Ethical con- 
 troversies. 
 
 These will appear, if we select his conclusions, on the three 
 following points : — The Moral Sense, the nature of Sympathy, 
 and the Summuni Bonum. 
 
 1. He considers that the Sophists first distinctly broached 
 the question — What is man by nature, and what is he by con- 
 venti(m or fashion ? 
 
 ' This prime question of moral philosophy, as I have called 
 it, is no easy one to answer, for it is no easy matter to efi'ect 
 the discrimination out of which the answer must proceed. It 
 is a question, perhaps, to which no complete, but only an ap- 
 proximate, answer can be returned. One common mistake is 
 to ascribe more to the natural man than properly belongs to 
 him, to ascribe to him attributes and endowments which 
 belong only to the social and artificial man. Some writers — 
 Hutcheson, for example, and he is followed by many others — 
 are of opinion that man naturally has a conscience or moral 
 sense which discriminates between right and wrong, just as 
 he has naturally a sense of taste, which distinguishes between 
 sweet and bitter, and a sense of sight, which discriminates 
 between red and blue, or a sentient organism, which dis- 
 tinguishes between pleasure and pain. That man has by 
 nature, and from the first, the possibility of attaining to aeon- 
 science is not to be denied. That he has within him by birth- 
 right something out of which conscience is developed, I firmly 
 believe; and what this is I shall endeavour by-and-by to show 
 when I come to speak of Sok rates and his philosophy as 
 opposed to the doctrines of the Sophists. Bat that the man
 
 WHAT IS MAN BY NATURE? 285 
 
 is furnished by nature witli a conscience ready-made, just as 
 he is furnished with a ready-raade sensational apparatus, this 
 is a doctrine in which I have no faith, and which I regard as 
 altogether erroneous. It arises out of the disposition to 
 attribute more to the natural man than properly belongs to 
 him. The other error into which inquirers are apt to fall in 
 making a discrimination between what man is by nature, and 
 what he is by convention, is the opposite of the one just men- 
 tioned. They sometimes attribute to the natural man less 
 than jiroperly belongs to him. And this, I think, was the 
 error into which the Sophists were betrayed. They f U into 
 it inadvertently, and not with any design of embracing or 
 promulgating erroneous opinions.' 
 
 2. With reference to Sympathy, he differs from Adam 
 Smith's view, that it is a native and original affection of the 
 heart, like hunger and thirst. Mere feeling, he contends, 
 can never take a man out of self. It is thought that overleaps 
 this boundary ; not the feeling of sensation, but the thought 
 of one's self and one's sensations, gives the ground and the 
 condition of sympathy. Sympathy has self-consciousness for 
 its foundation. Very young children have little sympathy, 
 because in them the idea of self is but feebly developed. 
 
 3. In his chapter on the Cynic and Cyrenaic schools, he 
 discusses at length the summum bonum, or Happiness, and, 
 by implication, the Ethical end, or Standard. He considers 
 that men have to keep in view two ends ; the one the main- 
 tenance of their own nature, as rational and thinking beings ; 
 the other their happiness or pleasure. He will not allow that 
 we are to do right at all hazards, irrespective of utility ; 3'^et 
 he considers that there is something defective in the scheme 
 that sets aside virtue as the good, and enthrones happiness in 
 its place. He sums up as follows : — ■ 
 
 ' We thus see that a complete body of ethics should embrace 
 two codes, two systems of rules, the one of which we may call 
 the fundamental or antecedent, or under-ground ethics, as 
 underlying the other ; and the other of which we may call the 
 upper or subsequent, or above-ground ethics, as resting on, 
 and modified by the former. The under- ground ethics would 
 inculcate on man the necessity of being what he truly is, 
 namely, a creature of reason and of thonght; in short, the 
 necessity of being a man, and of preserving to himself this 
 status. Here the end is virtue, that is, the life and health of 
 the soul, and nothing but this. The above-ground ethics 
 would inculcate on man the necessity of being a happy nian.
 
 286 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — MANSEL. 
 
 It is not enough for man to be ; he mast, moreover, if possible, 
 he happy. The fundamental ethics look merely to his being, 
 i.e., his being rational ; the upper ethics look principally to 
 his being happy, but they are bound to take care that in all 
 his happiness he does nothing to violate his rationality, the 
 health and virtue of the soul.' 
 
 HENRY LONGUEVILLE MAKSEL. 
 
 Mr. Mansel, in his ' Metaphysics,' has examined the question 
 of a moral standard, and the nature of the moral faculty, ac- 
 cepting, with slight and unimportant modifications, the cur- 
 rent theory of a moral sense. 
 
 1. The Moral Faculty. That the conceptions of right and 
 wrong are sui generis, is proved (1) by the fact that in all 
 languages there are distinct terms for ' right ' and ' agreeable ;' 
 (2) by the testimony of consciousness ; and (3) by the 
 mutual inconsistencies of the antagonists of a moral sense. 
 The moral faculty is not identical with Reason ; for the 
 understanding contributes to truth only one of its ele- 
 ments, namely, the concept; in addition, the concept must 
 agree with the fact as presented in intuition. The moral 
 sense is usually supposed to involve the perception of qualities 
 only in so far as they are jjleasing or displeasing. To this 
 representation Mr. Mansel objects. In an act of moral con- 
 sciousness two things are involved: a perception or judgment, 
 and a sentiment or feeling. Bat the judgment itself may be 
 farther divided into two parts : ' the one, an individual fact, 
 presented now and here ; the other, a general law, valid 
 always and everywhere.' This is the distinction between 
 presentative and representative Knowledge. In every act of 
 consciousness there is some individual fact presented, and an 
 operation of the understanding. ' A conscious act of pure 
 moral sense, like a conscions act of pure physical sense, if it 
 ever takes place at all, takes place at a time of which we have 
 no remembrance, and of which we can give no account.' The 
 intuitive element may be called conscience; the representing 
 element is the understanding. On another point he differs 
 from the ordinary theory. It is commonly said that we imme- 
 diately perceive the moral character of acts, whether by our- 
 selves or by others. But this would implicate two facts, 
 neither of which we can be conscious of: (1) a law binding 
 on a certain person, and (2) his conduct as agreeing or dis- 
 agreeing with that law. Now, 1 can infer the existence of
 
 THE MORAL NATURE OF GOD. 287 
 
 Bnch a law only by representing his mind as constituted like 
 my own. We can, in fact, immediately perceive moral quali- 
 ties only in our own actions. 
 
 2. The Moral Standard. This is treated as a branch of 
 Ontology, and designated the ' Real in morality.' He declares 
 that Kant's notion of an absolute moral law, binding by its 
 inherent power over the mind, is a mere fiction. The differ- 
 ence between inclination and the moral imperative is merely 
 a difference between lower and higher pleasure. The moral 
 law can have no authority unless imposed by a superior, as a 
 law emanating from a lawgiver, if man is not accountable 
 to some higher being, there is no distinction between duty 
 and pleasure. The standard of right and wrong is the moral 
 nature (not the arbitrary will) of God.* Now, as we cannot 
 know God — an infinite being, — so we have but a relative con- 
 ception of morality. We may have lower and higher ideas of 
 duty. Morality therefore admits of progress. Bat no advance 
 in morality contradicts the princijjles previously acknowledged, 
 however it may vary the acts whereby those principles are 
 carried out. And each advance takes its place in the mind, 
 
 * * The theory which places the standard of morality in the Bivine 
 nature must not be coufounded with that which places it in the arbitrary 
 will of God. God did not en ate mora ity by his will ; it is inherent in 
 his nature, and co-etemal with himself; nor can he be conceived as 
 capable of reversing it.' The distinction here drawn does not avoid the 
 fatal objection to tne simpler theory, namely, that it takes away the moral 
 character of (iod. The acts of a sovereign cannot, with any propriety, as 
 Austin has shown, be termed either legal or illegal ; in like manner, if 
 God is a moral lawgiver, if ' he is accountable to no one,' then ' his duty 
 and his pleasure are undistinguishable from each other,' and he cannot 
 without self-contradiction be called a moral being. Even upon Mr. 
 INlansel's own theory, it is hardly correct to say that ' God did not create 
 morality by his will.' Morality involves two elements— one, rules of 
 conduct, the other, an obligation to observe them. Now, the authority 
 or obligatoriness of moral laws has been made to depend upon the will of 
 God, so that, prior to that will, m(-rality could not exist. Hence the only 
 part of morality that can be co-eteinal with God, is simply the rules of 
 morality, without their ob!igat(Tiness, the salt without its savour. The 
 closing assertion that God cannot reverse molality, may mean either that 
 it would be inconsistent with his immutability to reverse the laws he had 
 himself established, or that he is compelled by his nature to impose 
 certain rules, and no others. The first supposition is a truism ; the 
 second is not proved. For, since M r. Mansel has discarded as a fiction any 
 ' absolute law of duty,' it is hard to conJLCture whence he could derive 
 any compulsorj' choice of ruk-s. Why God commands some things in 
 preferer.ce to others — whether from a regard to the happiness of all his 
 creatures, or of some only; whether wiih a viiw to his own glory, or 
 from conformity with some abstract notion^ — has been much disputed** 
 and it is quite concdvable that he may not adopt any of those objects.
 
 288 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— JOHN STUART MILU 
 
 not as a question to be supported by argument, but as an 
 axiom to be intuitively admitted. Each principle appears 
 true and irreversible so far as it goes, but it is liable to be 
 merged in a more comprehensive formula. It is an error of 
 philosophers to imagine that they have an absolute standard 
 of morals, and thereupon to set out a j^riori the criterion of a 
 possibly true revelation. Kant said that the revealed com- 
 mands of God could have no religious value, unless approved 
 by the moral reason ; and Fichte held that no true revelation 
 could contain any intimation of future rewards and punish- 
 ments, or any moral rule not deducible from the principles of 
 the practical reason. Bat revelation has enlightened the 
 practical reason, as by the maxim — to love God with all thy 
 heart, and tuy neighbour as thyself — a maxim, says Mr. 
 Mansel, that philosophy in vain toiled after, and subsequently 
 borrowed without acknowledgment. 
 
 JOHN STUART MILL. 
 
 Mr. J. S. Mill examines the basis of Ethics in a small work 
 entitled Utilitarianism. 
 
 After a chapter of General Remarks, he proposes (Chapter 
 II.) to enquire. What Utilitarianism is? This creed holds 
 that actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote 
 happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of 
 happiness. By happiness is intended pleasure, and the ab- 
 sence of pain ; by unhappiness, pain, and the privation of 
 pleasure. The things included under pleasure and pain may 
 require farther explanation ; but this does not affect the 
 general theory. To the ar ^nsation that pleasure is a mean 
 and grovelling object of pursuit, the answer is, that human 
 beings are capable of pleasures that are not grovellirg. It is 
 compatible with utility to recognize some Jiinds of pleasure as 
 more valuable than others. There are pleasures that, irre- 
 spective of amount, are held by all persons that have experi- 
 enced them to be preferable to others. Few human beings 
 would consent to become beasts, or fools, or base, in con- 
 sideration of a greater allowance of pleasure. Inseparable 
 from the estiniate of pleasure is a sevse oj dLgnitij^ which 
 determines a preference among enjoyments. 
 
 But this distinction in kind is not essential to the justi- 
 fication of the standard of Utility. That standard is not the 
 agent's own greatest happiness, but the greatest amount of 
 happiness altogether. However little the higher virtues
 
 HAPPINESS THE ETHICAL END. 
 
 might contribute to one's own happiness, there can be no 
 doubt that the world in general gains by them. 
 
 Another objection to the doctrine is, that happiness is a 
 thing unattainable, and that no one has a right to it. Not 
 only can men do without happiness, but renunciation is the 
 first condition of all nobleness of character. 
 
 In reply, the author remarks that, supposing happiness 
 Impossible, the prevention of uuhappiness might still be an 
 object, which is a mode of Utility, liut the alleged impossi- 
 bility of happiness is either a verbal quibble or an exaggera- 
 tioni No one contends for a life of sustained rapture ; 
 occasional moments of such, in an existence of few and 
 transitory pains, many and various pleasures, with a pre- 
 dominance of the active over the passive, and moderate 
 expectations on the whole, constitute a life worthy to be 
 called happiness. Numbers of mankind have been satisfied 
 with much less. There are two great factors of enjoyment — 
 tranquillity and excitement. With the one, little pleasure 
 will suffice ; with the other, considerable pain can be endured. 
 It does not appear impossible to secure both in alternation. 
 The principal defect in persons of fortunate lot is to care for 
 nobody but themselves ; this curtails the excitements of lite, 
 and makes everj-thing dwindle as the end approaches. Another 
 circumstance rendering life unsatisfactory is the want of 
 mental cultivation, by which men are deprived of the inex- 
 haustible pleasures of knowledge, not merely in the shape of 
 science, but as practice and fine art. It is not at all difficult 
 to indicate sources of happiness ; the main stress of the prob- 
 lem lies in the contest with the positive evils of life, the great 
 sources o' physical and of mental suffering — indigence, disease, 
 and the unkindness, worthlessnoss, or premature loss of objects 
 of affection. Poverty and Disease may be contracted ia 
 dimensions ; and even vicissitudes of fortune are not wholly 
 beyond control. 
 
 It is unquestionably possible to do without happiness. 
 This is the lot of the greater part of mankind, and is often 
 voluntarily chosen by the hero or the martj'r. But self- 
 sacrifice is not its own end; it must be made to earn for 
 others immunity from saci'itice. It must be a very imperfect 
 state of the world's arrangements that requires any one to 
 serve the happiness of others by the absolute sacrifice of their 
 own ; yet undoubtedly while the world is in that imperfect 
 state, the readiness to make such a sacrifice is the highest 
 virtue that can be found in man. Nay, farther, the conscious 
 13
 
 290 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— JOHN STUART MILL. 
 
 ability to do without happiness, in such a condition of the 
 world, is the best prospect of realizing such happiness as is 
 attainable. Meanwhile, self-devotion belongs as much to the 
 Utilitarian as to the Stoic or the Transcendentalisb ; with the 
 reservation that a sacrifice not tending to increase the sum of 
 happiness is to be held as wasted. The golden rule, do as 
 you would be done by, is the ideal perfection of utilitaiian 
 morality. The means of approaching this ideal are, first, 
 that laws and society should endeavour to place the interest 
 of the individual in harmony with the interest of the whole ; 
 and, secondly, that et. ucMtion and opinion should establish 
 in the mind of each individual an indissoluble association 
 between his own good and the good of the whole. 
 
 The system of Utility is oLjected to, on another side, as 
 being too high for humanity ; men cannot be perpetually 
 acting with a view to the general interests of society. But 
 this is to mistake the meamng of a standard, and to confound 
 the rule of action with the motive. Ethics tells us what are 
 our duties, or by what test we are to know them ; but no 
 system of ethics requires that the motive of every action 
 should be a feeling of duty ; our actions are rightly done pro- 
 vided only duty does not condemn them. The great majority 
 of actions have nothing to do with the good of the world — 
 they end with the individual ; it happens to few persons, and 
 that rarely, to be public benefactors. v Private utility is in the 
 mass of cases all that we have to attend to. As regards 
 abstinences, indeed, it would be unworthy of an intelligent 
 agent not to be aware that the action is one that, if practised 
 generally, would be generally injurious, and to nfit feel a sense of 
 obligation on that ground; but such an amount of regard for 
 the general interest is required under every system of morals. 
 
 It is farther alleged against Utility, that it renders nitu 
 cold and unsympathizing, chills the moral feelings towards 
 individuals, and regards only the dry consequences of actions, 
 without reference to the moral qualities of the agent. The 
 author replies that Utility, like any other system, admits that 
 a right action does not necessarily indicate a virtuous charac- 
 ter. Still, he contends, in the long run, the best proof of a 
 good character is good act-ons. If the objection means that 
 utilitarians do not lay suflicient stress on the beauties of cha- 
 racter, he replies that this is the acciflent of persons cultivatino* 
 their moral feelings more than their sympathies and artistic 
 perceptions, and may occur under every view of the foundation 
 of morals.
 
 OBJECTIONS TO UTILITY ANSWERED. 291 
 
 The next objectiori considered is tliat Utility is a godless 
 doctrine. The answer is, that whoever believes in the perfect 
 goodness and wisdom of God, necessarily believes that what- 
 ever he has thought fit to reveal on the subject of morals 
 must fulfil the requirements of utility in a supreme degree. 
 
 Again, Utility is stigmatized as an immoral doctrine, by 
 carrying out Expediency in opposition to Principle. But the 
 Expedient in this sense means what is expedient for the agent 
 himself, and, instead of being the same thing with the useful, 
 is a branch of the hurtful. It would often be expedient to tell 
 a lie, but so momentous and so widely extended are the utilities 
 of truth, that veracity is a rule of transcendent expediency. 
 Tet all moralists admit exceptions to it, solely on account of 
 the manifest inexpediency of observing it on certain occasions. 
 
 The author does not omit to notice the usual charge that 
 it is impossible to make a calculation of consequences previous 
 to every action, which is as much as to say that no one can 
 be under the guidance of Christianity, because there is not 
 time, on the occasion of doing anything, to read through the 
 Old and New Testaments. The real answer is (substantially 
 the same as Austin's) that there has been ample time during 
 the past duration of the species. Mankind have all that time 
 been learning by experience the consequences of actions ; on 
 that experience they have founded both their prudence and 
 their morality. It is an inference from the principle of utility, 
 which regards morals as a practical art, that moral rules are 
 improvable ; but there exists under the ultimate principle a 
 number of intermediate generalizations, applicable at once to 
 the emergencies of human conduct. Nobody argues that 
 navigation is not founded on astronomy, because sailors can- 
 not wait to calculate the Nautical Almanack. 
 
 As to the stock argument, that people will pervert utility 
 for their private ends, Mr. Mill challenges the production of 
 any ethical creed where this may not happen. The fault is 
 due, not to the origin of the rules, but to the complicated 
 nature of human affairs, and the necessity of allowing a certain 
 latitude, under the moral responsibility of the agent, for ac- 
 commodation to circumstances. ^ind in cases of conflict, 
 utility is a better guide than anythin^^ found in systems whose 
 moral laws claim independent authority. 
 
 Chapter III. considers the Ultiaiate Sanction of the 
 Principle of Utility. 
 
 It is a proper question with regard to a supposed moral 
 standard, — What is its sanction ? what is the source of ita
 
 292 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — JOHN STUART MILL. 
 
 obligation ? wherein lies its binding force ? The customary 
 morality is consecrated by education and opinion, and seems 
 to be obligatory in itself; but to present, as the source of 
 obligation, some general principle, not surrounded by the 
 halo of consecration, seems a paradox ; the superstructure 
 seems to stand better without such a foundation. This diffi- 
 culty belongs to every attempt to reduce morality to first 
 principles, unless it should happen that the principle chosen 
 has as much sacredness as any of its ai^j^lications. 
 
 Utility has, or might have, all the sanctions attaching to 
 any other system of morals. Those sanctions are either 
 External or Internal. The External are the hope of favour 
 and the fear of displeasure (1) from our fellow-creatures, or 
 (2) from the Kuler of the Universe, along with any sympathy 
 or affection for them, or love and awe of Him, inclining us 
 apart from selfish njotives. There is no reason why these 
 motives should not attach themselves to utilitarian morality. 
 
 The Internal Sanction, under every standard of duty, is 
 of one uniform character — a feeling in our own mind ; a pain, 
 more or less intense, attendant on violation of duty, which in 
 properly cultivated moral natures rises, in the more serious 
 cases, into shrinking from it as an impossibility. This feeling, 
 when disinterested, and connecting itself with the pure idea 
 of duty, is the essence of Conscience ; a complex phenomenon, 
 involving associations from sympathy, from love, and still 
 more from fear; from the recollections of childhood, and of 
 all our past life ; from self-esteem, desire of the esteem of 
 others, and occasionally even selt-abasement. This extreme 
 complication is an obstacle to our supposing that it can attach 
 to other objects than what are found at present to excite it. 
 The binding force, however, is the mass of feeli»g to he brohen 
 through in order to violate our standard of right, and which, 
 if we do violate that standard, will have to be afterwards 
 encountered as remorse. 
 
 Thus, apart from external sanctions, the ultimate sanction, 
 under Utility, is the same as for other standards, namel}^, the 
 conscientious feelings of mankind. If there be anything 
 innate in conscience, there is nothing more likely than that it 
 should be a regard to the pleasures and pains of others. If 
 so, the intuitive ethics w^ould be the same as the utilitarian ; 
 and it is admitted on all hands that a large portion of morality 
 turns upon what is due to the interests of fellow-creatures. 
 
 On the other hand, if, as the author believes, the moral 
 feelings are not innate, they are not for that reason less
 
 NATURAL SENTIMENT IN FAVOUR OF UTILITY. 293 
 
 natural. It is natural to man to speak, to reason, to cultivate 
 the ground, to build cities, though these are acquired faculties. 
 So the moral faculty, if not a part of our nature, is a natural 
 outgrowth of it; capable, in a certain small degree, of 
 springing up spontaneously, and of being brought to a high 
 pitch by means of cultivation. It is also susceptible, by the 
 use of the external sanctions and the force of early impres- 
 sions, of being cultivated in almost any direction, and of being 
 perverted to absurdity and mischief. 
 
 The basis of natural sentiment capable of supporting the 
 utilitarian morality is to be found in the social feelings of man- 
 kind. The social state is so natural, so necessary, and so 
 habitual to man, that he can hardly conceive himself otherwise 
 than as a member of society ; and as civilization advances, 
 this association becomes more firmly riveted. All strength- 
 ening of social ties, and all healthy growth of society, give to 
 each individual a stronger personal interest in consulting the 
 welfare of others. Each comes, as though instinctively, to be 
 conscious of himself as a being that of course pays regard to 
 others. There is the strongest motive in each person to 
 manifest this sentiment, and, even if he should not feel it 
 strongly himself, to cherish it in everybody else. The smallest 
 germs of the feeling are thus laid hold of, and nourished by 
 the contagion of sympathy and the influences of education ; 
 and by the powerful agency of the external sanctions there is 
 woven around it a complete web of corroborative association. 
 In an improving state of society, the influences are on the 
 increase that generate in each individual a feeling of unity 
 with all the rest ; which, if perfect, would make him never 
 think of anything for self, if they also were not included. Sup- 
 pose, now, that this feeling of unity were taught as a religion, 
 and that the whole force of education, of institutions, and of 
 opinion, were directed to make every person grow up sur- 
 rounded with the profession and the practice of it ; can there 
 be any doubt as to the sufficiency of the ultimate sanction for 
 the Happiness morality ? 
 
 Even in our present low state of advancement, the deeply- 
 rooted conception that each individual has of himself as a 
 social being tends to make him wish to be in harmony with 
 his fellow-creatures. The feeling may be, in most persons, 
 inferior in strength to the selfish feelings, and may be altogether 
 wanting ; but to such as possess it, it has all the characters of 
 a natural feeling, and one that they would not desii^e to be 
 without.
 
 294: ETHICAL SYSTEMS — JOHN STUAKT MILL. 
 
 Chapter TV. is Of what sort of proof the principle op 
 UTILITY IS SUSCEPTIBLE. Questions about ends are questions as 
 to what things are desirable. According to the theory of 
 Utility, happiness is desirable as an end ; all other things are 
 desirable as means. What is the proof of this doctrine ? 
 
 As the proof, that the sun is visible, is that people actually 
 see it, so the proof that happiness is desirable, is that people 
 do actually desire it. No reason can be given why the general 
 happiness is desirable, beyond the fact that each one desires 
 their own happiness. 
 
 But granting that people desire happiness as one of their 
 ends of conduct, do they never desire anything else ? To all 
 appearance they do; they desire virtue, and the absence of 
 vice, no less surely than pleasure and the absence of pain. 
 Hence the opponents of utility consider themselves entitled to 
 infer that happiness is not the standard of moral approbation 
 and disapprobation. 
 
 But the utilitarians do not deny that virtue is a thing to 
 be desired. The very reverse. They maintain that it is to be 
 desired, and that fur itself. Although considering that what 
 makes virtue is the tendency to promote happiness, yet they 
 hold that the mind is not in a rin^bt stat^, not in a state con- 
 formable to Utility, not in the state conducive to the general 
 happiness, unless it has adopted this essential instrumentality 
 so warmly as to love it for its own sake. It is necessary to 
 the carrying out of utility that certain things, originally of 
 the nature of means, should come by association to be a part 
 of the final end. Thus health is but a means, and yet we 
 cherish it as strongly as we do any of the ultimate pleasures 
 and pains. So virtue is not originally an end, but it is capable 
 of becoming so ; it is to be desired and cherished not solely 
 as a means to happiness, but as a part of happiness. 
 
 The notorions instance of money exemplifies this operation. 
 The same may be said of power and fame ; although these are 
 ends as well as means. We should be but ill provided with 
 happiness, were it not for this provision of nature, whereby 
 things, originally indifferent, but conducive to the satisfaction 
 of our primitive desires, become iu themselves sources of 
 pleasure, of even greater value than the primitive pleasures, 
 both in permanency and in the extent of their occupation of 
 our life. Virtue is originally valuable as bringing pleasure 
 and avoiding pain ; but by association it may be ieh as a good 
 in itself, and be desired as intensely as any other good ; with 
 this superiority over money, power, or fame, that it makes
 
 HAPPINESS THE ULTIMATE OBJECT OF DESIRE. 295 
 
 the individual a blessing to society, while these others may 
 make him a curse. 
 
 With the allowance thus made for the effect of association, 
 the author considers it proved that there is in reality nothing 
 desired except happiness. Whatever is desired otherwise than 
 as a means to some end beyond itself, and ultimately to hap- 
 piness, is not desired for itself till it has become such. Human 
 nature is so constituted, he thinks, that we desire nothing but 
 what is either a part of happiness or a means of happiness ; 
 and no other proof is required that these are the only things 
 desirable. Whether this psychological assertion be correct, 
 must be determined by the self-consciousness and observation 
 of the most practised observers of human nature. 
 
 It may be alleged that, although desire always tends to 
 happiness, yet Will, as shown by actual conduct, is different 
 from desire. We persist in a course of action long after the 
 original desire has faded. Bat this is merely an instance of 
 that familiar fact, the power of habit, and is nowise confined 
 to the virtuous actions. Will is amenable to habit ; we may 
 will from habit what we no longer desire for itself, or desire 
 only because we will it. Bat the will is the child of desire, 
 and passes out of the dominion of its parent only to come 
 under the sway of habit. What is the result of habit may 
 not be intrinsically good ; we might think it better for virtue 
 that habit did not come in, were it not that the other influ- 
 ences are not sufficiently to be depended on for unerring 
 constancy, until they have acquired this farther support. 
 
 Chapter V. is On the coxnexio'^ between Justice and 
 Utility. 
 
 The strongest obstacle to the doctrine of Utility has been 
 drawn from the Idea, of Justice. The rapid perception and 
 the powerful sentiment connected with the Just, seem to show 
 it as generically distinct from every variety of the Expedient. 
 
 To see whether the sense of justice can be explained on 
 grounds of Utility, the author begins by surveying in the 
 concrete the things usually denominated just. In the first 
 place, it is commonly considered unjust to deprive any one of 
 their personal liber. y, or property, or anything secured to 
 them by law : in other words, it is unjust to violate any one's 
 legal rights. Secondly, The legal rights of a man may be such 
 as oiiglit not to have belonged to him ; that is, the law con- 
 ferring those rights may be a bad law. When a law is bad, 
 opinions will differ as to the justice or injustice of infringing 
 it ; some think that no law should be disobeyed by the iudi-
 
 296 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— JUHN STUART MILL. 
 
 vidual citizen ; others hold that it is just to resist niijust 
 laws. It is thus admitted bj all that there is such a thing as 
 moral rights the refusal of which is injustice. Thirdly, it is 
 considered just that each person should receive what he de- 
 serves (whether good or evil). And a person is understood 
 to deserve good if he does right, evil if he does wrong ; and 
 in particular to deserve good in return for good, and evil in 
 return for evil. Fourthly, it is unjust to hreah faith, to 
 violate an engagement, or disappoint expectations knowingly 
 and voluntarily raised. Like other obligations, this is not 
 absolute, but may be overruled by some still stronger demand 
 of justice on the other side. Fifthly, It is inconsistent with 
 justice to he jpartial ; to show favour or prfeference in matters 
 where favour does not apply. We are expected in certain 
 cases to prefer our friends to strangers; but a tribunal is 
 bound to the strictest impartiality ; rewards and punishments 
 should be administered impartially ; so likewise the patronage 
 of important public offices. Nearly allied to impartiality is 
 the idea of equality. The justice of giving equal protection 
 to the rights of all is maintained even when the rights them- 
 selves are very unequal, as in slavery and in the system of 
 ranks or castes. There are the greatest differences as to what 
 is equality in the distribution of the produce of labour; some 
 thinking that all should receive alike ; others that the neediest 
 should receive most ; others that the distribution should be 
 according to labour or services. 
 
 To get a clue to the common idea running through all 
 these meanings, the author refers to the etymology of the 
 word, which, in most languages, points to something ordained 
 by lavj. Even although there be many things considered just, 
 that we do not usually enforce by law, yet in these cases it 
 would give us pleasure if law could be brought to bear upon 
 offenders. When we think a person bound in justice to do a 
 thing, we should like to see him punished for not doing it ; we 
 lament the obstacles that may be in the way, and strive to 
 make amends by a strong expression of our own opinion. The 
 idea of legal constraint is thus the generating idea of justice 
 throughout all its transformations. 
 
 The real turning point between morality and simple expe- 
 diency is contained in the penal sanction. Duty is what we 
 may exact of a person ; there may be reasons why we do not 
 exact it, but the person himself would not be entitled to com- 
 plain if we did so. Expediency, on the other hand, points to 
 things that we may wish people to do, may praise them for
 
 CONNEXION BETWEEN JUSTICE AND UTILITY. 297 
 
 doing, and despise them for not doing, while we do not con- 
 sider it proper to bring in the aid of punishment. 
 
 There enters farther into the idea of Justice what has been 
 expressed by the ill-chosen phrase, 'perfect obligation,' mean- 
 ing that the duty involves a moral right on the part of some 
 definite person, as in the case of a debt ; an imperfect obliga- 
 tion is exemplified bv charity, which gives no legal claim to 
 any one recipient. Every such right is a case of Justice, 
 and not of Beneficence. 
 
 The Idea of Justice is thus shown to be grounded in Law ; 
 and the next question is, does the strong feeling or sentiment 
 of Justice grow out of considerations of utility ? Mr. Mill 
 conceives that though the notion of expediency or utility does 
 not give birth to the sentiment, it gives birth to what is 
 moral in it. 
 
 The two essentials of justice are (1) the desire to punish 
 some one, and (2) the notion or belief that harm has been 
 done to some definite individual or individuals. Now, it 
 appears to the author that the desire to punish is a spon- 
 taneous outgrowth of two sentiments, both natural, and, it 
 may be, instinctive ; the impulse of self-defence, and the feel- 
 ing of syinpathy. We naturally resent, repel, and retaliate, 
 any harm done to ourselves and to any one that engages our 
 sympathies. There is nothing moral in mere resentment ; 
 the moral part is the subordination of it to our social regards 
 We are moi^al beings, i.i proportion as we restrain our private 
 resentment whenever it conflicts with the interests of society. 
 All moralists agree with Kant in saying that no act is rig^ht 
 that could not be adopted as a law by all rational beings (that 
 is, consistently with the well-being of society). 
 
 There is" in Justice a rule of conduct, and a right on the 
 part of some one, which right ought to be enforced by society. 
 If it is asked why society <jught to enforce the right, there is 
 no answer but the general utility. If that expression seem 
 feeble and inadequate to account for the eneriry of retalia- 
 tion inspired by injustice, the author asks us to advert to 
 the extraordinarily important and impressive kind of utility 
 that is concerned. The interest involved is security, to every 
 one's feelings the most vital of all interests. All other earthly 
 benefits needed by one person are not needed by another; 
 and many of them can, if necessary, be cheerfully foregone, or 
 replaced by something else ; but security no human being can 
 possibly do without ; on it we depend for all our immunity 
 from evil, and for the whole value of all and every good.
 
 298 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — JOHN STUAKT MILL. 
 
 beyond the passing moment. Now, this most indispensable 
 of all necessaries, afcer physical nutriment, cannot be had 
 unless the machinery for providing it is kept unintermittedly in. 
 active play. Our notion, therefore, of the claim we have on 
 our fellow-creatures to join in making safe for us the very 
 groundwork of our existence, gathers feelings around it so 
 much more intense than those concerned in any of the more 
 common cases of utility, that the difference in degree (as is 
 often the case in psychology) becomes a real difference in 
 kind. The claim assumes that character of absoluteness, that 
 apparent infinity, and incommensurability with all other con- 
 siderations, which constitute the distinction between the 
 feeling of right- and wrong, and that of ordinary expediency 
 and inexpediency. 
 
 Having presented his own analysis of the sentiment of 
 Justice, the author proceeds to examine the intuitive theory. 
 The charge is constantly brought against Utility, that it is an 
 uncertain standard, differently interpreted by each person. 
 The only safety, it is pretended, is found in the immutable, 
 ineffaceable, and unmistakeable dictates of Justice, carrying 
 their evidence in themselves, and independent of the fluctua- 
 tions of opinions. But so far is this from being the fact, that 
 there is as much difference of opinion, and as much discussion, 
 about what is just, as about what is useful to society. 
 
 To take a few instances. On the question of Punishment, 
 some hold it unjust to punish any one by way of example, or 
 for any end but the good of the sufferer. Others maintain 
 that the good of the society is the only admissible end of 
 punishment. Robert Owen affirms that punishment altogether 
 is unjust, and that we should deal with crime only through 
 education. Now, without an appeal to expediency, it is im- 
 possible to arbitrate among these conflicting views ; each one 
 has a maxim of justice on its side. Then as to the apportion- 
 ing of punishments to offences. The rule that recommends 
 itself to the primitive sentiment of justice is an eye for an eye, 
 a tooth for a tooth ; a rule formally abandoned in European 
 countries, although not without its hold upon the popular 
 mind. With many, the test of justice, in penal infliction, is 
 that it should be proportioned to the offence ; while others 
 maintain that it is just to inflict only such an amount of 
 punishment as will deter from the commission of the offence. 
 
 Besides the differences of opinion already alluded to, as to 
 the payment of labour, how^ many, and irreconcileable, are the 
 Btandards of justice appealed to on the matter of taxation ?
 
 DISTINCTION BETWEEN THE JUST AND THE EXPEDIENT. 299 
 
 One opinion is, that taxes should be in proportion to pecuniary 
 means ; others think the wealthy should pay a higher propor- 
 tion. In point of natural justice, a case might be made out 
 for disregarding means, and taking the same sum from each, 
 as the privileges are equally bestowed : yet from feelings of 
 humanity and social expediency no one advocates that view. 
 So that there is no mode of extricating the question but the 
 utilitarian. 
 
 To sum up. The great distinction between the Just and 
 the Expedient is the distinction between the essentials of 
 well-being — the moral rules forbidding mankind to hurt one 
 another — and the rules that only point out the best mode of 
 managing some department of human aifairs. It is in the 
 higher moralities of protection from harm that each individual 
 has the greatest stake ; and they are the moralities that com- 
 pose the obligations of justice. It is on account of these that 
 punishment, or retribution of evil for evil, is universally in- 
 cluded in the idea. For the carrying out of the process of 
 retaliation, certain maxims are necessary as instruments or as 
 checks to abuse; as that involuntary acts are not punishable ; 
 that no one shall be condemned unheard ; that punishment 
 should be proportioned to the offence. Impartiality, the first 
 of judicial virtues, is necessary to the fulfilment of the other 
 conditions of justice : while from the highest form of doing 
 to each according to their deserts, it i ^ ;.!ie abstract standard 
 of social and distributive justice ; aud is in this sense a direct 
 emanation from the first principle of morals, the principle of 
 the greatest Happiness. All social inequalities that have 
 ceased to be considered as expedient, assume the character, 
 not of simple inexpediency, but of injustice. 
 
 Besides the * Utilitarianism,' Mr. Mill's chief Ethical disser- 
 tations are his review of Whewell's Moral Treatises (Disserta- 
 tions and Discussions, Vol. II.), and parts of his Essay on 
 Liberty. By collecting his views generally under the usual 
 heads, we shall find a place for some points additional to what 
 are given in the foregoing abstract. 
 
 I. — Enough has been stated as to his Ethical Standard, 
 the Principle of Utility. 
 
 11. — We have seen his Psychological explanation of the 
 Moral Faculty, as a growth from certain elementary feelings 
 of the mind. 
 
 He has also discussed extensively the Freedom of the 
 Will, maintaining the strict causation of human actions, aud 
 refuting the supposed fatalistic tendency of the doctrine.
 
 300 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ^BAILEY. 
 
 He believes, as we have seen, in Disinterested impulses, 
 but traces them to a purely self-regarding origin. 
 
 III. — He does not give any formal dissertation on Human 
 Happiness, but indicates many of its important conditions, as 
 in the remarks cited above, p. 702. In the chapter of the 
 work on ' Liberty,' entitled Individuality, he illustrates the 
 great importance of special tastes, and urges the full right of 
 each person to the indulgence of these in every case where 
 they do not directly injure others. He reclaims against the 
 social tyranny prevailing on such points as dress, personal 
 habits, and eccentricities. 
 
 IV. — As regards the Moral Code, he would repeal the 
 legal and moral rule that makes marriage irrevocable. He 
 would also abolish all restraints on freedom of thought, and 
 on Individuality of conduct, qualified as above stated. 
 
 He would impose two new moral restraints. He con- 
 siders that every parent should be bound to provide a suit- 
 able education for his own children. Farther, for any one to 
 bring into the world human beings without the means of sup- 
 porting them, or, in an over-peopled country, to produce 
 children in such number as to depress the reward of labour 
 by competition, he regards as serious offences, 
 
 SAMUEL BAILEY. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Bailey devotes the last four in his Third Series 
 of * Letters on the Philosophy of the Human Mind,' to the sub- 
 ject of the Moral Sentiments, or the feelings inspired in us 
 by human conduct. He first sets down five facts in the 
 human constitution, in which moral phenomena originate — 
 
 1. Man is susceptible of pleasure and pain of various kinds 
 and. degrees. 
 
 2. He likes and dislikes respectively the causes of them. 
 fS. He desires to reciprocate pleasure and pain received, 
 
 when intentionally given by other sentient beings. 
 
 4. He himself expects such reciprocation from his fellows, 
 coveting it in the one case, and shunning it in the other. 
 
 5. He feels, under certain circumstances, more or less 
 sympathy with the pleasures and pains given to others, ac- 
 companied by a proportionate desire that those affections 
 should be reciprocated to the givers. 
 
 These rudimentary afiections, states and operations of 
 consciousness [he is careful to note that, besides feelings, 
 intellectual conditions and processes are involved in them]
 
 KUDIMENTARY SUSCEPTIBILITIES OF THE MIND. 301 
 
 are found more or less developed in all, or neavly all the 
 
 human race. In support of the limitation now made, he 
 adduces what are given as authentic accounts of savages 
 devoid of all gratitude and fellow-feeling ; and then goes on to 
 trace the nature and development of moral sentiment from the 
 rudimentary powers and susceptibilities mentioned, in those 
 that do possess them. In doing so, he follows the convenient 
 mode of speech that takes actions for the objects that excite 
 the susceptibilities, although, in reality, the objects are no 
 other than human beings acting in particular ways. 
 
 The feelings he supposes to be modified in manner or 
 degree, according as actions are (I) done by ourselves to 
 others, or (2) done to others by others, or (3) done to others 
 by ourselves ; i.e., according as we ourselves are the subjects, 
 the spectators, or doers of them. 
 
 First, then, he considers our feelings in regard to actions 
 done to us by others, and the more carefully, because these 
 lie at the foundation of the rest. When a fellow -creature 
 intentionally contributes to our pleasure, we feel the pleasure ; 
 we feel a liking to the person intentionally conferring it, and 
 we feel an inclination to give him pleasure in return. The 
 two last feelings — liking and inclination to reciprocate, con- 
 stitute the simplest form of moral approbation ; in the contrary 
 case, dislike and resentment give the rudimentary form of moral 
 disapprobation. It is enough to excite the feelings, that the 
 actions are merely thought to be done by the person. They 
 are moral sentiments, even although it could be supposed 
 that there were no other kinds of actions in the world except 
 actions done to ourselves ; but they are moral sentiments in 
 the purely selfish form. That, for moral sentiment, mere 
 liking and disliking must be combined with the desire to 
 reciprocate good and evil, appears on a comparison of our 
 different feelings towards animate and inanimate causes of 
 pleasure and pain ; there being towards inanimate objects no 
 desire of reciprocation. To a first objection, that the violent 
 sentiments, arising upon actions done to ourselves, should not 
 get the temperate designation of moral approbation and dis- 
 approbation, he replies, that such extremes as the passions of 
 gratitude and resentment must yet be identified in their origin 
 with our cooler feelings, when we are mere spectators or 
 actors. A second objection, that the epithet moral is inappli- 
 cable to sentiments involving purely personal feeling, and 
 destitute of sympathy, he answers, by remarking that the 
 word morale in philosophy, should not eulogistically be op-
 
 302 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— BAILEY. 
 
 posed to immoral, but should be beld as neutral, and to mean 
 * relating to conduct, whatever that conduct may be.* Ho 
 closes the first head with the observation, that in savage life 
 the violent desire of reciprocation is best seen; generally, 
 however, as he gives instances to show, in tbe form ol revenge 
 and reciprocation of evil. 
 
 In the second place, he considers our feelings when we 
 are spectators of actions done to others by others. These 
 form the largest class of actions, but to us tliey have a mean- 
 ing, for the most part at least, only as they have an analogy 
 to actions done to ourselves. The variety of the resulting 
 feelings, generally less intense tlian when we are the subjects 
 of the actions, is illustrated first by supposing the persons 
 affected to be those we love ; in this case, the feelings are 
 analogous to those already mentioned, and they may be even 
 more intense than when we ourselves are personally affected. 
 If those affected are indifferent to us, our feelings are less 
 intense, but we are still led to feel as before, from a natural 
 sympathy with other men's pains and pleasures — always sup- 
 posing the sympathy is not (as often happens) otherwise 
 counteracted or superseded ; and also from the influence ot 
 association, if that, too, happen not to be countervailed. Ot 
 sympathy for human beings in general, he remarks that a 
 certain measure of civilization seems required to bring it 
 properly out, and he cites instances to prove how m.uch it is 
 wanting in savages. In a third case, where the persons 
 affected are supposed to be those we hate, we are displeased 
 when they are made to rejoice, and pleased when they suffer, 
 unless we are overcome by our habitual associations with 
 good and evil actions. Such associations weigh least with 
 rude and savage peoples, but even the most civilized nations 
 disregard them in times of war. 
 
 He takes up, in the third place, actions done by ourselves 
 to others. Here, when the action is beneficent, the peculi- 
 arity is that an expectation of receiving good in return from 
 our neighbours takes the place of a desire to reciprocate ; we 
 consider ourselves the proper object of grateful thoughts, &c., 
 on the part both of receiver and of spectators. We are affected 
 with the gratification of a benevolent desire, with self-com- 
 placency, and with undefined hopes. When we have inflicted 
 injury, there is the expectation of evil, and a combination of 
 feelings summed up in the word Remorse. But Remorse, 
 like other sentiments, may fail in the absence of cultivatioa of 
 mind or under special circumstances.
 
 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF ACTIONS. 303 
 
 Having considered the three dififerent kinds of actions 
 Beparately, he next remarks that the sentiment prevaihng in 
 each case must be liable to a reflex influence from the other 
 cases, whereby it will be strengthened or intensified ; thus we 
 come to associate certain intensities of moral sentiment with 
 certain kinds of action, by whomsoever or to whomsoever 
 performed. He also notes, that in the first and third cases, 
 as well as in the second, there is a variation of the sentiment, 
 according as the parties afiected are friends, neutrals, or 
 enemies. Finally, a peculiar and important modification of 
 the sentiments results from the outward manifestations of 
 them called forth from the persons directly or indirectly 
 affected by actions. Such are looks, gestures, tones, words, 
 or actions, being all eff'orts to gratify the natural desire of 
 reciprocating pleasure or pain. Of these the most notable are 
 the verbal manifestations, as they are mostly irrepressible, and 
 can alone always be resorted to. While relieving the feelings, 
 they can also become a most powerful, as they are often the 
 only, instrument of reward and punishment. Their power of 
 giving to moral sentiments greater precision, and of acting 
 upon conduct like authoritative precepts, is seen in greatest 
 force when they proceed from bodies of men, whether they are 
 regarded as signs of material consequences or not. He ends 
 this part of the subject by defending, with Butler, the place 
 of resentment in the moral constitution. 
 
 He proceeds to inquire how it is that not only 
 the perfection of moral sentiment that would apportion 
 more approbation and disapprobation according to the 
 real tendencies of actions, is not attained, but men's 
 moral feelings are not seldom in extreme contrariety 
 with the real effects of human conduct. First, he finds 
 that men, from partial views, or momentarily, or from 
 caprice, may bestow their sentiments altogether at variance 
 with the real consequences of actions. Next there is the diffi- 
 culty, or even impossibility, of calculating all the consequences 
 far and near ; whence human conduct is liable to be appreciated 
 on whimsical grounds or on no discernible grounds at all, 
 and errors in moral sentiment arise, which it takes increased 
 knowledge to get rid of. In the third place, it is a fact that 
 our moral sentiments are to a very great extent derived from 
 tradition, while the approbation and disapprobation may have 
 originally been wrongly applied. The force of tradition he 
 illustrates by supposing the case of a patriarchal family, and 
 he cannot too strongly represent its strength in overcoming
 
 304 ETHICA.L SYSTEMS — BAILET. 
 
 or at least struggling against natural feeling. Tlio anthorita- 
 tive precept of a superior may also make actions be approved 
 or disapproved, not because they are directly perceived or 
 even traditionally held to be beneficial or injurious, but solely 
 because they are commanded or prohibited. Lastly, he dwells 
 upon the intiuence of superstition in perverting moral senti- 
 ment, finding, however, that it operates most strongly in the 
 way of creating false virtues and false vices and crimes. 
 
 These circumstances, explaining the want of conformity in 
 our moral sentiments to the real tendencies of actions, he 
 next employs to account for discrepancies in moral sentiment 
 between diff'erent communities. Having given examples of 
 such discrepancies, he supposes the case of two families, 
 endowed with the rudimentary qualities mentioned at the 
 beginning, but placed in different circumstances. Under the 
 influence of dissimilar physical conditions, and owing to the 
 dissimilar personal idiosyncracies of the families, and espe- 
 cially of their chiefs, there will be left few points of complete 
 analogy between them in the first generation, and in course 
 of time they will become two races exceedingly unlike in 
 moral sentiment, as in other respects. He warns strongly 
 against making moral generalizations except under analogous 
 circumstances of knowledge and civilization. Most men have 
 the rudimentary feelings, bat there is no end to the variety of 
 their intensity and direction. As a highest instance of dis- 
 crepant moral sentiment, he cites the fact that, in our own 
 country, a moral stigma is still attached to intellectual error 
 by many people, and even by men of cultivation. 
 
 He now comes to the important question of the test or 
 criterion that is to determine which of these diverse sentiments 
 are right and which wrong, since they cannot all be right 
 from the mere fact of their existence, or because they are felt 
 by the subjects of them to be right, or believed to be in con- 
 sonance with the injunctions of superiors, or to be held also 
 by other people. The foregoing review of the geiiesis of 
 moral sentiments suggests a direct and simple answer. As 
 they arise from likings and dislikings of actions that cause, or 
 tend to cause, pleasure and pain, the first thing is to see that 
 the likings and dislikings are well founded. Where this does 
 not at once appear, examination of the real effects of actions 
 must be resorted to ; and, in dubious cases, men in genera], 
 when unprejudiced, allow this to be the natural test for 
 applying moral approbation and disapprobation. If, indeed, 
 the end of moral sentiment is to promote or to prevent the
 
 THE CRITERION OF CONSEQUENCES VINDICATED. 305 
 
 actions, there can be no better way of attaining that end. 
 And, as a fact, almost all moralists virtually adopt it on occa- 
 sion, though often unconsciously ; the greatest happiness- 
 principle is denounced by its opponents as a mischievous 
 doctrine. 
 
 The objection that the criterion of consequences is difficult 
 of application, and thus devoid of practical utility, he rebuts 
 by asserting that the difficulty is not greater than in other 
 cases. We have simply to follow effects as far as we can ; 
 and it is by its ascertainable, not by its unascertainable, con- 
 sequences, that we pronounce an action, as we pronounce an 
 article of food or a statute, to be good or bad. The main 
 effects of most actions are already very well ascertained, and 
 the consequences to human happiness, when unascertainable, 
 are of no value. If the test were honestly applied, ethical 
 discrepancies would tend gradually to disappear. 
 
 He starts another objection : — The happiness-test is good 
 as far as it goes, but we also approv^e and disapprove of 
 actions as they are just or generous, or the contrary, and with 
 no reference to happiness or uuhappiness. In answering this 
 argument, he contines himself to the case of Justice. To be 
 morally approved, a just action must in itself be peculiarly 
 pleasant or agreeable, irrespective of its other effects, which 
 are left out : for on no theory can pleasantness or agreeable- 
 ness be dissociated from moral approbation. Now, as Hap- 
 piness is but a general appellation for all the agreeable 
 affections of our nature, and unable to exist except in the 
 shape of some agreeable emotion or combinations of agreeable 
 emotions ; the just action that is morally commendable, as 
 giving naturalh and directly a peculiar kind of pleasure 
 independent of any other consequences, only produces one 
 species of those pleasant states of mind that are ranged under 
 the genus happiness. The test of justice therefore coincides 
 with the happiness-test. But he does not mean that we are 
 actually affected thus, in doing just actions, nor refuse to 
 accept justice as a criterion of actions ; only in the one case 
 he maintains that, whatever association may have effected, 
 the just act must originally have been approved for the sake 
 of its consequences, and, in the other, that justice is a criterion, 
 because proved over and over again to be a most beneficial 
 principle. 
 
 After remarking that the Moral Sentiments of praise and 
 blame may enter into accidental connection with other feelings 
 of a distinct character, like pity, wonder, &c., he criticises the
 
 306 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— BAILEY. 
 
 use of the word Utility in Morals. He avoids the term as 
 objectionable, because the useful in common language does 
 not mean what is directly productive of happiness, but only 
 what is instrumental in its production, and in most cases 
 customarily or recurrently instrumental. A blanket is of 
 continual utility to a poor wretch through a severe winter, 
 but the benevolent act of the donor is not termed useful, 
 because it confers the benefit and ceases. Utility is too narrow 
 to comprehend all the actions that deserve approbation. We 
 want an uncorapounded substantive expressing the two attri- 
 butes of cunferring and conducing to happiness ; as a descrip- 
 tive phrase, producing happiness is as succinct as any. The 
 term useful is, besides, associated with the notion of what is 
 serviceable in the aiiairs and objects of common life, whence 
 the philosophical doctrine that erects utility as its banner is 
 apt to be deemed, by the unthinking, low, mean, and deroga- 
 tory to human nature and aspirations, although its real 
 import is wholly free from such a reproach. Notwithstanding, 
 therefore, the convenience of the term, and because the asso- 
 ciations connected with it are not easily eradicated, whilst most 
 of the trite objections to the true doctrine of morals turn upon 
 its narrow meanings, he thinks it should be as much as pos- 
 sible disused. 
 
 Mr. Bailey ends by remarking of the common question, 
 whether ooi* moral sentiments have their origin in Reason, or 
 in a separate power called the Moral Sense, that in his view 
 of man's sensitive and intellectual nature it is easily settled. 
 He recognizes the feelings that have been enumerated, and, in 
 connexion with them, intellectual processes of discerning and 
 inferring ; for which, if the Moral Sense and Reason are meant 
 as anything more than unnecessary general expressions, they 
 are merely fictitious entities. So, too. Conscience, whether 
 as identified with the moral sense, or put for sensibility in 
 regard to the moral qualities of one's own mind, is a mere 
 personification of certain mental states. The summary of 
 Bailey's doctrine falls within the two first heads. 
 
 I. — The Standard is the production of Happiness. [It 
 should be remarked, however, that happiness is a wider aim 
 tlan morality ; although all virtue tends to produce happiness, 
 very much that produces happiness is not virtue.] 
 
 II. — The Moral Faculty, while involving processes of dis- 
 cernment and inference, is mainly composed of certain senti- 
 ments, the chief being Reciprocity and Sympathy. [These are 
 undoubtedly tiie largest ingredients in a mature, self-acting
 
 ., HAPPINESS NOT THE PROXIMATE END. 307 
 
 conscience ; and the way that they contribute to the pro- 
 duction of moral sentiment deserved to be, as it has been, well 
 handled. The great omission in Mr. Bailey's account is the 
 absence of the element of auihm-itij, whicU is the main instru- 
 ment in impartmg to us the sense of obligation.] 
 
 HEPtBEPtT SPENCER. 
 
 Mr. Spencer's ethical doctrines are, as yet, nowhere fully 
 expressed. They form part of the more general doctrine of 
 Evolution which he is engaged in working out ; and they are 
 at present to be gathered only fi'om scattered passages. It is 
 true that, in his tirst work, Social Statics, he presented what 
 he then regarded as a tolerably complete view of one division 
 of Morals. But without abandoning this view, he now regards 
 it as inadequate — more especially in. respect of its basis. 
 
 !Mi\ Spencer's conception of Morality as a science, is con- 
 veyed in the following passages in a letter written by him to 
 Mr. Mill; repudiating the title anti-utilitarian, which Mr. 
 Mill had applied to him : — 
 
 ' The note in question greatly startled me by implicitly 
 classing me with Anti- utilitarians. I have never regarded 
 myself as an Anti-utilitarian. My dissent from the doctrine 
 of Utility as commonly understood, concerns not the objecD 
 to be reached by men^ but the method of reaching it. Wnile 
 I admit that happiness is the ultimate end to be contem- 
 plated, I do not admit tbat it should be the proximate end. 
 The Expediency- Philosophy having concluded that happiness 
 • is a thing to be achieved, assumes that Morality has no other 
 business than empirically to generalize the results of conduct, 
 aad to supply for the guidance of conduct nothing more than 
 its empirical generalizations. 
 
 ' Bat the view for which I contend is, that Morality prtr- 
 perly so called— the science of right conduct — has lor its 
 object to determine hou) and ivliy certain modes of conduct 
 are detrimental, and certain other modes beneficial. These 
 good and bad results cannot be accidental, but must be neces- 
 sary consequences of the constitution of things ; and I con- 
 ceive it to be the business of Moral Science to deduce, from 
 the laws of life and the conditions of existence, what kinds of 
 action necessarily tend to produce happiness, and what kinds 
 to produce unhappiaess. Having done this, its deductions 
 are to be recognized as laws of conduct ; and are to be con- 
 formed to irrespective of a direct estimation of happiness or 
 misery.
 
 308 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — SPENCER. 
 
 * Perhaps an analogy will most clearly show my meaning. 
 During its early stages, planetary Astronomy consisted of 
 nothing more than accumulated observations respecting the 
 positions and motions of the sun and planets; from which 
 accumulated observations it came by and by to be empirically 
 predicted, with an approach to truth, that certain of the 
 heavenly bodies would have certain positions at certain times. 
 But the modern science of planetary Astronomy consists of 
 deductions from the law of gravitation — deductions showing 
 why the celestial bodies necessarily occupy certain places 
 at certain times. Now, the kind of relation which thus exists 
 between ancient and modern Astronomy, is analogous to the 
 kind of relation which, I conceive, exists between the Expedi- 
 ency-Morality, and Moral Science properly so-called. And the 
 objection which I have to the current UtiUtarianism, is, that it 
 recognizes no more developed form of morality — does not see 
 that it has reached but the initial stage of Moral Science. 
 
 * To make my position fully understood, it seems needful 
 to add that, corresponding to the fundamental propositions of 
 a developed Moral Science, there have been, and still are, 
 developing in the race, certain fundamental moral intuitions ; 
 and that, though these moral intuitions are the results of 
 accumulated experiences of Utility, gradually organized and 
 inherited, they have come to be quite independent of con- 
 scious experience. Just in the same way that I believe 
 the intuition of space, possessed by any living individual, to 
 have arisen from organized and consolidated experiences of all 
 antecedent individuals who bequeathed to him their slowly- 
 developed nervous organizations — just as I believe that this 
 intuition, requiring only to be made definite and complete by 
 personal experiences, has practically become a form of thought, 
 apparently quite independent of experience ; so do I believe 
 that the experiences of utility organized and consolidated 
 through all past generations of the human race, have been 
 producing corresponding nervous modifications, which, by 
 continued transmission and accumulation, have become in 
 us certain faculties of moral intuition — certain emotions re- 
 sponding to right and wrong conduct, which have no ap- 
 parent basis in the individual experiences of utility. I also 
 hold that just as the space-intuition responds to the exact 
 demonstrations of Geometry, and has its rough conclusions 
 interpreted and verified by them ; so will moral intuitions 
 respond to the demonstrations of Moral Science, and will haA'« 
 their rough conclusions interpreted and verified by them.'
 
 MOEAL INTUITIOXS A.TTAINED BY DEVELOPMENT. 309 
 
 The relations between tbe Expediency-Morality, and Moral 
 Science, conceived by Mr. Spencer to be, the one transitional, 
 and tbe other ultimate, are farther explained in the following 
 passage from his essay on 'Prison-Ethics' : — 
 
 ' Progressing civilization, which is of necessity a succession 
 of compromises between old and new, requires a perpetual 
 re-adjustment of the compromise between the ideal and the 
 practicable in social arrangements : to which end both ele- 
 ments of the compromise must be kept in view. If it is true 
 that pure rectitude prescribes a system of things far too good 
 for men as they are ; it is not less true that mere expediency 
 does not of itself tend to establish a system of things any 
 better than that which exists. While absolute morality owes 
 to expediency the checks which prevent it Irom rushing into 
 Utopian absurdities ; expediency is indebted to absolute 
 morality for ail stimulus to improvement. Granted that we 
 are chiefly interested in ascertaining what is relatively right ; 
 it still follows that we must first consider what is absolutely 
 rigid; since the one conception presupposes the other. That 
 is to say, though we must ever aim to do what is best for the 
 present times, yet we must ever bear in mind what is ab- 
 stractedly best ; so that the changes we make may be towards 
 it, and not av:ay from it.' 
 
 By the word ahsolute as thus applied, Mr. Spencer does 
 not mean to iniply a right and wrong existing apart from 
 Humanity and its relations. Agreeing with Utilitarians in 
 the belief that happiness is the end, and that the conduct 
 called moral is simply the best means of attaining it, he of 
 course does not assert that there is a mcrality which is absolute 
 in the sense of being true out of relation to human existence. 
 By absolute morality as distinguished from relative, he here 
 means the mode of conduct which, under the conditions arising 
 from social union, must be pursued to achieve the greatest 
 weliare of each and all. He holds, that the laws of Life, 
 physiologically considered, being fixed, it necessarily follows 
 that when a number of individuals have to live in social 
 union, which necessarily involves fixity of conditions in the 
 shape of mutual interfereriCes and limitations, there result 
 certain fixed principles by which conduct must be restricted, 
 belore the greatest sum of happiness can be achieved. These 
 principles constitute what Mr. Spencer distinguishes as abso- 
 lute Morality ; and the absolutely moi al man is the man 
 who conforms to these prii. copies, not by external coercion 
 nor self- coercion, but who acts them out spontaneously.
 
 SIO ETHICAL SYSTEMS — SPENCER. 
 
 To be fully understood, this conception must be taken along 
 with the general theory of Evolution. Mr. Spencer argues 
 that all things whatever are inevitably tending towards equi- 
 librium ; and that consequently the progress of mankind 
 cannot cease until there is equilibrium between tlie human 
 constitution and the conditions of human existence. Or, as 
 he argues in First Frl'iiciples (Second Edition, p. 512), 
 'The adaptation of man's nature to the conditions of his 
 existence cannot cease until the internal forces which we 
 know as feelings are in equilibrium with the external forces 
 they encounter. And the establishment of this equilibrium, is 
 the arrival at a state of human nature and social organization, 
 such that the individual has no desires but those which may 
 be satisfied without exceeding his proper sphere of action, 
 while society maintains no restraints but those which the 
 individual voluntarily respects. The progressive extension of 
 the liberty of citizens, and the reciprocal removal of political 
 restrictions, are the steps by which we advance towards this 
 state. And the ultimate abolition of all limits to the freedom 
 of each, save those imposed by the like freedom of all, must 
 result from the complete equilibration between man's desires 
 and the conduct necessitated by surrounding conditions.' 
 
 The conduct proper to such a state, which Mr, Spencer 
 thus conceives to be the subject-matter of Moral Science, 
 truly so-called, he proposes, in the Prospectus to his 
 System of Fhilusophy, to treat under the following heads. 
 
 Personal Mokals. — The principles of private conduct- 
 physical, intellectual, moral, and religious— that follow from the 
 conditions to complete individual life ; or, what is the same 
 thing, those modes of piivate action which must result from the 
 eventual equilibration of internal desu'es and external needs. 
 
 Justice. — The mutual limitation of men's actions neces- 
 sitated by their co- existence as units of a society — limitations, 
 the perfect observance of which constitutes that state of 
 equilibrium forming the goal of political progress. 
 
 Negative Beneficence. — Those secondary limitations, 
 similarly necessitated, which, though less important and 
 not cognizable by law, are yet requisite to prevent mutual 
 destruciion of happiness in various indirect ways : in other 
 words — those minor selt-restraints dictated by what may be 
 called passive sympathy. 
 
 PosTTiVi Beneficence. — Comprehending all modes of con- 
 duct, dictated by active sympathy, which imply pleasure in 
 giving pleasui'e — modes ot conduct that social adaptation
 
 CONTINENTAL MORALISTS. 311 
 
 lias induced and must render ever more general ; and which, 
 in becoming universal, must fill to the full the possible mea- 
 sure of human happiness. 
 
 This completes the long succession of British moralists 
 during the three last centuries. It has been possible, and 
 even necessary, to present them thus in an unbroken line, 
 because the insular movement in ethical philosophy has been 
 hardly, if at all, affected by anything done abroad. In the 
 earlier part of the modern period, little of any kind was done 
 in ethics by the great continental thinkers. Descartes has 
 only a few allusions to the subject; the 'Ethica' of Spinoza 
 is chiefly a work of speculative philosophy ; Leibnitz has no 
 systematic treatment of moral questions. The case is very 
 different in the new German philosophy since the time of 
 Kant; besides Kant himself, Fichte, Hegel, Schleiermacher, 
 and many later and contemporary thinkers having devoted a 
 large amount of attention to practical philosophy. But unless 
 it be Kant — and he not to any great extent — none of these lias 
 influenced the later attempts at ethical speculation amongst 
 ourselves : nor, again with the exception of Kant, are we as 
 yet in a position properly to deal with them. One reason for 
 proceeding to expound the ethical system of the founder of 
 the later German philosophy, without regard to his successors, 
 lies in the fact that he stood, on the practical side, in as 
 definite a relation to the English moralists of last century, as, 
 in his speculative pliilosophy, to Locke and Hume. 
 
 IMMANUEL KANT. [1724-1804.] 
 The ethical writings of Kant, in the order of their appear- 
 ance, are — Foundation for the Metaplujsic of Morals (1785); 
 Critique of the Practical Reason (1788) ; Metaphysic of Morals 
 (1797, in two parts — (1) Doctrine of Right or Jurisprudence, 
 (2) Doctrine of Virtue or Ethics proper). The third work 
 contains the details of his system ; the general theory is pre- 
 sented in the two others. Of these we select for analysis the 
 earlier, containing, as it does, in less artificial form, an ampler 
 discussion of the fundamental questions of morals ; but 
 towards the end it must be supplemented, in regard to certain 
 characteristic doctrines, from the second, in some respects 
 more developed, work.* 
 
 * For help in understanding Kant's peculiar phraseology and general 
 point of view, the reader is referred to the short exposition of his Specu- 
 lative Philosophy in Appendix B.
 
 312 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— KANT. 
 
 In the introduction to the Metaphjsic of Morals, Kant 
 distinguishes between the empirical and the rational mode 
 of treating Ethics. He announces his intention to depart 
 from the common plan of mixing up the two together, and to 
 attempt for once to set forth the ])ure moral philosophy that 
 is implied even in the vulgar ideas of duty and moral law. 
 Because a moral law means an absolute necessity laid on all 
 rational beings whatever, its foundation is to be sought, not 
 in human nature or circumstances, but d. priori in the con- 
 ception of pure reason. The most universal precept founded 
 on mere experience is only a practical rule, and never a moral 
 law. A purely rational moral philosophy, or Metaphysic of 
 Morals, will serve the double end of meeting a speculative 
 requirement, and of furnishing the only true norm of practice. 
 It investigates the idea and principles of a potentially pure 
 Will, instead of the acts and conditions of human volition as 
 known from psychology. Not a complete Metaphysic of 
 Morals, however, (which would be a Critique of the pure 
 Practical Reason), but merely a foundation for such will be 
 given. The supreme principle of morality is to be established, 
 apart from detailed application. First, common notions will 
 be analyzed in order to get at this highest principle ; and 
 then, when the principle has been sought out, they will be 
 returned upon by way of synthesis. 
 
 In the first of the three main sections of the work, he 
 makes the pass ge from Common Rational Knowledge of 
 Morals to Philosophical. Nothing in the world, he begins, 
 can without qualification be called good, except Will. Qua- 
 lities of temperament, like courage, &c., gifts of fortune, like 
 wealth and power, are good only with reference to a good 
 will. As to a good will, when it is really such, the circum- 
 stance that it can, or cannot, be executed does not matter; its 
 value is independent of the utility or fruitlessness of it. 
 
 This idea of the absolute worth of mere Will, though it is 
 allowed even by the vulgar understanding, he seeks to estab- 
 lish beyond dispute, by an argument from the natural suhjec- 
 tiun of Will to Reason. In a being well- organized, if Con- 
 servation or Happiness were the grand aim, such subjection 
 would be a great mistake. When Instinct could do the work 
 far better and more surely. Reason should have been deprived 
 of all practical function. Discontent, in fact, rather than 
 happiness comes of pursuit of mere enjoyment by rational 
 calculation ; and to make light of the part contributed by 
 Reason to happiness, is really to make out that it exists fo
 
 NOTHING GOOD EXCEPT WILL. 313 
 
 nobler purpose. But now, since Reason is a practical faculty 
 and governs the will, its function can only be to produce a Will 
 good in itself. Such a Will, if not the only good, is certainly 
 the highest; and happiness, unattainable by Reason as a 
 primary aim, and subject in this life altogether to much limi- 
 tation, is to be sought only in the contentment that arises 
 from the attainment by Reason of its true aim, at the sacrifice 
 often of many a natural inclination. 
 
 He proceeds to develop this conception of a Will in itself 
 good and estimable, by dealing with the commonly received 
 ideas of Duty. Leaving aside profitable actions that are plain 
 violations of duty, and also actioua conformed to duty, but, 
 ■while not prompted directly by nature, done from some 
 special inclination — in which case it is easy to distinguish 
 whether the action is done from duty or from self-interest; 
 he considers those more diSicalt cases where the same action 
 is at once duty, and prompted by direct natural inclination. 
 In all such, whether it be duty of self-preservation, of bene- 
 volence, of securing one's own happiness (this last a duty, 
 because discontent and the pressure of care may easily lead 
 to the transgression of other duties), he lays it down that 
 the action is not allowed to have true moral value, unless 
 done in the abeyance or absence of the natural inclination 
 prompting to it. A second position is, that the moral value 
 of an action done from duty lies not in the intention of it, but 
 in the maxim that determines it; not in the object, but in the 
 principle of Volition. That is to say, in action done out of 
 regard to duty, the will must be determined by its formal a 
 priori principle, not being determined by any material d 
 pisieriori motive. A third position follows then from the 
 other two ; Duty is the necessity of an action out of respect 
 for Law. Towards an object there may be inclination, and 
 this inclination may be matter for approval or liking ; but it 
 is Law only — the ground and not the effect of Volition, 
 bearing down inclination rather than serving it — that can 
 inspire Respect When inclination and motives are both 
 excluded, nothing remains to determine Will, except Law 
 objectively; and, subjectively, pure respect for a law of prac- 
 tice — i.e., the maxim to follow such a law, even at the sacrifice 
 of every inclination. The conception of Law-in-itself alone 
 determining the will, is, then, the surpassing good that id 
 called moral, which exists already in a man before his action 
 has any result. Conformity to Law in general, all special 
 motive to follow any single law being excluded, remains as 
 14
 
 314 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — KANT. 
 
 the one principle of Volition : I am never to act otherwise, 
 than so as to be able also to wish that my maxim (i.e., my 
 subjective principle of volition) should become a universal 
 law. This is what he finds implied in the common notions of 
 Duty. 
 
 Having illustrated at length this reading, in regard to the 
 duty of keeping a promise, he contrasts, at the close of the 
 section, the all but infallibility of common human reason in 
 practice with its helplessness in speculation. Notwithstanding, 
 it finds itself unable to settle the contending claims of Reason 
 and Inclination, and so is driven to devise a practical philo- 
 sophy, owing to the rise of a ' Natural Dialectic ' or tendency 
 to refine upon the strict laws of duty in order to make them 
 more pleasant. But, as in the speculative region, the Dialectic 
 cannot be properly got rid of without a complete Critique of 
 Reason. 
 
 In Section II. the passage is made from the popular moral 
 philosophy thus arising to the metaphysic of morals. He denies 
 that the notion of duty that has been taken above from common 
 sage is empirical. It is proved not to be such from the very as- 
 sertions of philosophers that men always act from more or less 
 refined self-love ; assertions that are founded upon the diffi- 
 culty of proving that acts most apparently conformed to duty 
 are really such. The fact is, no act can be proved by expe- 
 rience to be absolutely moral, i.e., done solely from regard to 
 duty, to the exclusion of all inclination ; and therefore to 
 concede that morality and duty are ideas to be had from 
 experience, is the surest way to get rid of them altogether. 
 Duty, and respect for its law, are not to be preserved at all, 
 unless Reason is allowed to lay absolute injunctions on the 
 will, wiiatever experience says of their non-execution. How, 
 indeed, is experience to disclose a moral law, that, in applying 
 to all rational beings as well as men, and to men only as 
 rational, must originate a priori in pure (practical) Reason? 
 Instead of yielding the principles of morality, empirical exam- 
 ples of moral conduct have rather to be judged by these. 
 
 All supreme principles of morality, that are genuine, must 
 rest on pure Reason solely ; and the mistake of the popular 
 practical philosophies in vogue, one and all — whether advanc- 
 ing as their principle a special determination of human nature, 
 or Perfection, or Happiness, or Moral Feeling, or Fear of God, 
 or a little of this and a little of that — is that there has been 
 no previous consideration whether the principles of morality 
 are to be sought for in our empirical knowledge of human
 
 MOEALITY RESTS ON PUEE REASON. 315 
 
 nature at all. Such consideration would have shown them to 
 be altogether a priori^ and would have appeared as a ^pure 
 practical philosophy or metaphysic of morals (upon the com- 
 pletion of which any popularizing might have waited), kept 
 free from admixture of Anthropolooy, Theology, Physics, 
 Hyperphysics, &c., and setting forth the conception of Duty 
 as purely rational, without the confusion of empirical motives. 
 To a metaphysic of this kind, Kant is now to ascend from the 
 popular philosophy, v.ith its st -ck-in-trade of single instances, 
 following out the practical faculty of Reason from the general 
 rules determining it, to the point where the conception of 
 Duty emerges. 
 
 While things in nature work according to laws, rational 
 beings alone can act according* to a conceived idea of law3, 
 i,e.^ to principles. This is to have a Will, or, what is the 
 same, Practical Reason, reason being required in deducing 
 actions from laws. If the Will follows Reason exactly and 
 without fail, actions objectively necessary are necessary also 
 subjectively; if, through subjective conditions (inclinations, 
 &c.), the Will does not follow Reason inevitably, objectively 
 necessarj^ actions become subjectively contingent, and towards 
 the objective laws the attitude of the will is no longer unfailing 
 choice, but constraint. A constraining objective principle 
 mentally represented, is a command ; its formula is called 
 Imjjerafive, for which the expression is Ought. A will perfectly 
 good — i.e., subjectively determined to follow the objective 
 laws of good as soon as conceived — knows no Ought. Impera- 
 tives are only for a.n imperfect, such as is the human, will. 
 Hi/pothetical Imperatives represent the practical necessity of 
 an action as a means to an end, being problematical or assertory 
 principles, according as the end is possible or real. Categorical 
 Imperatives represent an action as objectively necessary for 
 itself, and connt as a])ocleictical principles. 
 
 To the endless number of possible aims of human action 
 correspond as many Imperatives, directing merely how they 
 are to be attained, without any question of their value ; these 
 are Imperatives of Fitness. To one real aim, existing neces- 
 sarily for all rational beings, viz., Happiness, corresponds the 
 Imperative of Prudence (in the narrow sense), being assertory 
 while hypothetical. The categorical Imperative, enjoining a 
 mode of action for itself, and concerned about the form and 
 principle of it, not its nature and result, is the Imperative of 
 Morality. These various kinds of Imperatives, as influencing 
 the will, may be distinguished as Rules (of fitness), Counsels
 
 816 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — KA.NT. 
 
 (of prudence), Commands or Laivs (of morality) ; also aa 
 technical, pragmatical, moral. 
 
 Now, as to the question of the possibility of these different 
 Imperatives — how they can be supposed able to influence or 
 act upon the Will — there is in the first case no difficulty ; in 
 wishing an end it is necessarily implied that we wish the 
 indispensable means, when this is in our power. In like 
 manner, the Imperatives of Prudence are also analytical in 
 character (i.e., given by implication), if ^nly it were possible to 
 have a definite idea of the end sought, viz., happiness. But, in 
 fact, with the elements of happiness to be got from experience 
 at the same time that the idea requires an absolute whole, or 
 maximum, of satisfaction now and at every future moment, no 
 finite being can know precisely what he wants, or what may 
 be the effect of any of his wishes. Action, on fixed principles, 
 with a view to happiness, is, therefore, not possible ; and one 
 can only follow empirical directions, about Diet, Frugality, 
 Politeness, &c., seen on the whole to promote it. Although, 
 however, there is no certainty of causing happiness, and the 
 Imperatives with reference thereto are mere counsels, they 
 retain their character of analytical propositions, and their 
 action on the will is not less possible than in the former case. 
 
 To prove the possibility of the Imperative of morality is 
 more difficult. As categorical, it presupposes nothing else to 
 rest its necessity upon ; while by way of experience, it can 
 never be made out to be more than a prudential precept — i.e., 
 a pragmatic or hypothetic principle. Its possibility must 
 therefore be established a priori. But the difficulty will then 
 appear no matter of wonder, when it is remembered (from the 
 Critique of Pure Reason) how hard it is to establish synthetic 
 propositions a loriori. 
 
 The question of the possibility, however, meanwhile post- 
 poned, the mere conception of a categorical Imperative is 
 found to yield the one formula that can express it, from its 
 not being dependent, like a hypothetical Imperative, on a,ny 
 external condition. Besides tlie Law (or objective principle 
 of conduct), the only thing implied in the Imperative being 
 the necessity laid upon the Maxim (or subjective principle) 
 to conform to the law — a law limited by no condition ; 
 there is nothing for the maxim to be conformed to but 
 the universality of a law in general, and it is the conformity 
 alone that properly constitutes the Imperative necessary. 
 The Imperative is thus single, and runs : Act according to that 
 maxim 07dy which you can wiah at the same time to become a
 
 FOltMULA OF THE CATEGORICAL IMPERATIVE. 317 
 
 universal lain. Or, since universality of law as determining 
 effects is what we understand by nature : Act as if the maxim 
 of your action ought hij your will to become the universal law of 
 nature. 
 
 Taking cases of duties according to the common divisions 
 of duties to ourselv^es and to others, perfect and imperfect, he 
 proceeds to show that they may be all deduced from the single 
 Imperative ; the question of the reality of duty, which is the 
 same as the establishment of the possibility of the Imperative 
 as a synthetic practical proposition a priori, at present alto- 
 gether apart. SujDpose a man tempted to commit suicide, 
 with the view of bettering his evil condition ; but it is contra- 
 dictory that the very principle of self- conservation should 
 lead to self-destruction, and such a maxim of conduct cannot 
 therefore become a universal law of nature. Next, the case o 
 a man borrowing without meaning to repay, has only to be 
 turned into a universal law, and the thing becomes impossible ; 
 nobody would lend. Again, to neglect a talent that is generally 
 useful for mere ease and self-gratification, can indeed be sup- 
 posed a universal practice, but can never be wished to be. 
 Finally, to refuse help to others universally might not ruin 
 the race, but can be wished by no one that knows how soon 
 he must himself need assistance. Now, the rule was, that a 
 maxim of conduct should be ici^hecl to become the universal 
 law. In the last two cases, it cannot be wished; in the 
 others, the maxim cannot even be conceived in universal 
 form. Thus, two grades of duty, one admitting of merit, the 
 other so strict as to be irremissible, are established on the 
 general principle. The principle is moreover confirmed in the 
 case of transgression of duty: the transgressor by no means 
 wishes to have his act turned into a general rule, but only 
 seeks special and temporary exemption from a law allowed 
 by himself to be univ^ersal. 
 
 Notwithstanding this force and ease of application, a cate- 
 gorical Imperative has not yet been proved a priori actually 
 existent; and it was allowed that it could not be proved 
 empirically, elements of inclination, interest, &c., being incon- 
 sistent with morality. The real question is this : Is it a neces- 
 sary law that all rational beings should act on maxims that 
 they can wish to become universal laws ? If so, this must be 
 bound up with the very not on of the will of a rational beino- ; 
 the relation of the will to itself being to be determined a 
 priori by pure Reason. The Will is considered as a power of 
 Felf-detcrmination to act according to certain laws as repre-
 
 318 ETHICAL SYSTEMS - KANT 
 
 sented to the mind, existing only in rational beings. And, if 
 the objective ground of self-determination, ov End, is supplied 
 by mere Reason, it must be the same for all rational beings. 
 Ends may be divided into Subjective, resting upon individual 
 Im])ulses ov subjective grounds of desire; and Objective, de- 
 pending on Motives or objective grounds of Volition valid for 
 all rational beings. The principles of action are, in the one 
 case, Material, and, in the other. Formal, i.e., abstracted from 
 all subjective ends. Material ends, as relative, beget only 
 hypothetical Imperatives. But, supposed some thing, the 
 presence of which in itself has an absolute value, and vv^hich, 
 as End-in-self, can be a ground of fixed laws ; there, and there 
 only, can be the ground of a possible categorical Imperative, 
 or Law of Practice. 
 
 Now, such an End-in-self (not a thing with merely con- 
 ditional value, — a means to be used arbitrarily) is Mau 
 and every rational being, as Person. There is no other objec- 
 tive end with absolute value that can supply to the Reason 
 the supreme practical principle requisite for turning subjective 
 principles of action into objective principles of volition. Ra- 
 tional Nature as End-in-self is a subjective principle to a man 
 having this conception of his own being, but becomes objec- 
 tive when every rational being has the same from the same 
 ground in Reason. Hence a new form (+he second) to the 
 practical Imperative: Act so as to use Humanity (Human 
 Nature) as well in your ow7i j^erson, as in the person of another, 
 ever as end also, and never merely as mearis. 
 
 To this new formula, the old examples are easily squared. 
 Suicide is using one's person as a mere means to a tolerable 
 existence ; breaking faith to others is using them as means, 
 not as ends-in-self; neglect of self-cultivation is the not 
 furthering human nature as end- in-self in one's own person ; 
 withholding help is refusing to further Humanity as end-in-self 
 through the medium of the aims of others. [In a note he 
 denies that 'the trivial, Do to others as you would,' &c., is a 
 full expression of the law of duty : it contains the ground, 
 neither of duties to self; nor of duties of benevolence to others, 
 for many would forego receiving good on conditions of not 
 conferring it ; nor of the duty of retribution, for the male- 
 factor could turn it against his judge, &c.] 
 
 The universality of this principle of Human and Rational 
 Nature as End-in-self, as also its character of objective end 
 limiting merely subjective ends, prove that its source is in pure 
 Reason. Objectively, the ground of all practical legislation is
 
 THE WILL IS AUTONOMOUS. 319 
 
 Rule and the Form of Universality that enables mle to be 
 Law (of ;N"ature), according to principle first (in its double 
 form) ; subjectively, it is End, the subject of all ends being 
 every rational being as End-in-self, according to principle 
 second. Hence follows the third practical principle of the 
 Will, as supreme condition of its agreement with nniversal 
 practical Reason — the idea of the Will of every rational being as 
 a Will that legislates universalli/. The Will, if subject to law, 
 has first itself imposed it. 
 
 This new idea — of the Will of every rational being as nniver- 
 sally legislative — is what, in the implication of the Categorical 
 Imperative, specifically marks it ofi" from any Hypothe- 
 tical : Interest is seen to be quite incompatible with Duty, if 
 Duty is Volition of this kind. A will merely subject to laws 
 can be bound to them by interest ; not so a will itself legis- 
 lating supremely, for that would imply another law to keep 
 the interest of self-love from trenchmg upon the validity of 
 the universal law. Illustration is not needed to prove that a 
 Categorical Imperative, or law for the will of every rational 
 being, if it exist at all, cannot exclude Interest and be uncon- 
 ditional, except as enjoining everything to be done from the 
 maxim of a will that in legislating universally can have itself 
 for object. This is the point that has been always missed, 
 that the laws of duty shall be at once self-imposed and yet 
 universal. Subjection to a law not springing from one's own 
 will implies interest or constraint, and constitutes a certain 
 necessity of action, but never makes Duty. Be the interest 
 one's own or another's, the Imperative is conditional only. 
 Kant's principle is the Autonomy of the Will; every other 
 its Hetero7iomy . 
 
 The new point of view opens up the very fruitful concep- 
 tion of an Empire or Realm of Ends. As a Realm is the sys- 
 tematic union of rational beings by means of common laws, so 
 the ends determined by the laws may, abstractly viewed, be 
 taken to form a systematic whole. Rational beings, as subject 
 to a law requiring them to treat themselves and others as 
 ends and never merely as means, enter into a systematic union 
 by means of common objective laws, i.e. into an (ideal) Em- 
 pire or Realm of Ends, from the laws being concerned about 
 the mutual relations of rational beings as Ends and Means. 
 In this Realm, a rational being is either Head or Member: 
 Head, if legislating universally and with complete indepen- 
 dence ; Member, if also universally, but at the same time sub- 
 ject to the laws. When now the maxim of the will does not
 
 320 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — KANT. 
 
 by nature accord necessarily with tlie demand of tlie objective 
 principle — that the will through its maxim be able to regard 
 itself at the same time as legislating universally — a practical 
 constraint is exerted by the principle, which is Vuty^ lying oil 
 every Member in the Realm of Ends (not on the Head) alike. 
 This necessity of practice reposes, not on feeling, impulse, at 
 inclination, but on the relation between rational beings arising 
 from the fact that each, as End-in-self, legislates universally. 
 The Reason gives a universal application to every maxim of 
 the Will ; not from any motive of interest, but from the idea 
 of the Dignity of a rational being that follows no law that it 
 does not itself at the same time give. 
 
 Everything in the Realm of Ends has either a Trice or a 
 Dignity. Skill, Diligence, &c., bearing on human likings and 
 needs, have a Market-pnce; Qualities like Wit, Fancy, &c., 
 appealing to Taste or Emotional Satisfaction, have an Affection' 
 price. But Morality, the only way of being End-in-self, and 
 legislating member in the Realm of Ends, has an intrinsic 
 Worth or Dignity, calculable in nothing else. Its worth is not 
 in results, but in dispositions of Will ; its actions need neither 
 recommendation from a subjective disposition or taste, nor 
 prompting from immediate tendency or feeling. Being laid 
 on the Will by Reason, they make the Will, in the execution, 
 the object of an immediate Eespect, testifying to a Dignity 
 beyond all price. The grounds of these lofty claims in moral 
 goodness and virtue are the participation by a rational being 
 in the universal legislation, fitness to be a member in a possible 
 Realm of Ends, subjection only to self-imposed laws. Nothing 
 having value but as the law confers it, an unconditional, in- 
 comparable worth attaches to the giving of the law, and Respect 
 is the only word that expresses a rational being's appreciation 
 of that. Autonomy is thus the foundation of the dignity of 
 human and of all rational nature. 
 
 The three different expressions that have been given to 
 the one general principle of morality imply each the others, 
 and differ merely in their mode of presenting one idea of 
 the Reason to the mind. Universal application of the Maxiin 
 of Coiuluct, as if it ivere a laiv of nature, is the formula 
 of the Will as absolutely good ; universal prohibition against 
 the use of rational beings ever as means only, has reference 
 to the fact that a good will in a rational being is an 
 altogether independent and ultimate End, an End-in-self ii 
 all ; universal legislation of each for all rt.'cognizes the preroga 
 tive or special dignity of rational beings, that they necessarily
 
 THEORIES FOUNDED ON THE HETERONOMY OF THE WILL. 321 
 
 take their maxims from the point of view of all, and must 
 regard themselves, being Ends-in-self, as members in a Realm 
 of Ends (analogous to the Realm or Kingdom of Nature), 
 which, though merely an ideal and possible conception, none 
 the less really imposes an imperative upon action. Morality^ 
 he concludes, is the relation of actions to the Autonomy of the 
 Will, i.e., to possible universal legislation through its maxims. 
 Actions that can co- exist with this autonomy are allowed ; all 
 others are not. A will, whose maxims necessarily accord with 
 the laws of Autonomy, is holy, or absolutely good ; the de- 
 pendence of a will not thus absolutely good is Obligation. The 
 objective necessity of an action fi'om obligation is Bitty. Sub- 
 jedion to law is not the only element in duty ; the fact of the 
 law being self-imposed gives Dignity. 
 
 The Autonomy of the will is its being a law to itself, with- 
 out respect to the objects of volition ; the principle of autonomy 
 is to choose only in such a way as that the maxims of choice 
 are conceived at the same time as a universal law. This rule 
 cannot be proved analytically to be an Imperative, absolutely 
 binding on every will ; as a synthetic proposition it requires, 
 besides a knowledge of the objects, a critique of the subject, 
 i.e., pure practical Reason, before, in its apodeictic character, 
 it can be proved completely a ijriori. Still the mere analysis 
 of moral conceptions has sufficed to prove it the sole principle 
 of morals, because this principle is seen to be a categorical 
 Imperative, and a categorical imperative enjoins neither more 
 nor less than this Autonomy. If, then. Autonomy of Will 
 is the supreme principle, Heteronomy is the source of all 
 ungenuine principles, of Morality. Heteronomy is whenever 
 the Will does not give itself laws, but some object, in relation 
 to the Will, gives them. There is then never more than a 
 hypothetical Imperative : I am to do something because I 
 wish something else. 
 
 There follows a divisicjn and criticism of the various 
 possible principles of morality that can be set up on the 
 assumption of Heteronomy, and that have been put forward 
 by human Reason in default of the required Critique of 
 irs pure use. Such are either Empirical or Batlonal. The 
 Empirical, embodying the principle of Hapj^lness, are founded 
 on {\) physical or (2) moral fecluig ; the Rational, embodying 
 the principle o? perfection, on (1) the rational conception of it 
 as a possible result, or (2) the conception of an independent 
 perfection (the Will of God), as the determining cause of the 
 will. The Empirical principles are altogether to be rejected,
 
 322 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — KANT. 
 
 because they can give no universal law for all rational beings ; 
 of the Rational principles, the first, though setting up an 
 empty and indefinite conception, has the merit of at least 
 making an appeal from sense to pure reason. But the fatal 
 objection to all four is their implying Heteronomy ; no impera- 
 tive founded on them can utter moral, i.e.y categorical 
 commands. 
 
 That the absolutely good Will must be autonomous — 
 i.e., without any kind of motive or interest, lay commands 
 on itself that are at the same time fit to be laws for 
 all rational beings, appears, then, from a deeper considera- 
 tion of even the popular conceptions of morality. But 
 now the question can no longer be put off: Is Morality, of 
 which this is the only conception, a reality or a phantom? 
 All the different expressions given to the Categorical Impera- 
 tives are synthetic practical propositions a priori ; they postu- 
 late a possible synthetic use of the pure practical reason. Is 
 there, and hew is there, such a possible synthetic use ? This 
 is the question (the same as the other) that Kant proceeds to 
 answer in the Third Section, by giving, in default of a com- 
 plete Critique of the faculty, as much as is necessary for the 
 purpose. But here, since he afterwards undertook the full 
 Critique, it is better to stop the analysis of the earlier work, 
 and summarily draw upon both for the remainder of the 
 argument, and the rather because some important points 
 have to be added that occur only in the Inter treatise. The 
 foregoing is a sufiBcient example ol his method of treatment. 
 
 The synthetic use of the pure practical reason, in the Cate- 
 gorical Imperative, is legitimized ; Autonomy of the Will is 
 explained ; Duty is shown to be no phantom — through tbe 
 conception of Freedom of Will, properly understood. Theoreti- 
 cally (speculatively), Freedom is undemonstrahle ; being 
 eternally met, in one of the (cosmological) Antinomies of the 
 Pure Reason, by the counter-assertion that everything in the 
 universe takes place according to unchanging laws of nature. 
 Even theoretically, however. Freedom is not inconceivable, 
 and morally we become certain of it; for we are conscious of 
 the 'ought* of duty, and with the 'ought' there must go a 
 ' can.' It is not, however, as Phenomenon or Sensible Ens 
 that a man ' can,' is free, has an absolute initiative ; all pheno- 
 mena or Sensible Entia, being in space and time, are subject 
 to the Natural Law of Causality. But man is also Noumenon, 
 Thin g-in- self. Intelligible Ens; and as such, being free from 
 conditions of time and space, stands outside of the sequence
 
 POSTULATES OF THE PEACTICAL REASON. 823 
 
 of Nature. Now, the Nouraenon or Ens of the Reason (ho 
 assumes) stands higher than, or has a value above, the Pheno- 
 menon or Sensible Ens (as much as Reason stands higher 
 than Sense and Inclination) ; accordingly, while it is only man 
 as Noumenon that ' can,' it is to man as Phenomenon that the 
 * ought' is properly addressed ; it is upon man as Phenomenon 
 that the law of Duty, prescribed, with perfect freedom from 
 motive, by Man as Noumenon, is laid. 
 
 Freedom of Will in Man as Rational End or Thing- in-self 
 is thus the great Postulate of the pure Practical Reason ; we 
 can be sure of the fact (although it must always remain spe- 
 culatively undemonstrable), because else there could be no 
 explanation of the Categorical Imperative of Daty. But inas- 
 much as the Practical Reason, besides enjoining a law of 
 Duty, must provide also a final end of action in the idea of an 
 unconditioned Supreme Good, it contains also two other Pos- 
 tulates : Man being a sentient as well as a rational beinoj", 
 Happiness as well as Perfect Virtue or Moral Perfection must 
 enter into the Summum Bouum (not, one of them to the 
 exclusion of the other, as the Stoics and Epicureans, in dif- 
 ferent senses, declared). Now, since there is no such necessary 
 conjunction of the two in nature, it must be sought otherwise. 
 It is found in postulating Immortalitij and God. 
 
 Immortality is required to render possible the attainment 
 of moral perfection. Virtue out of re-;.e •/ for law, with a con- 
 stant tendency to fall away, is all ihat is attainable in life. 
 The Holiness^ or complete accommodation of the will to the 
 Moral Law, implied in the Summum Bonum, can be attained 
 to only in the course of an infinite progression ; which means 
 personal Immortality. [As In the former case, the specula- 
 tive impossibility of proving the immateriality, &c., of the 
 supernatural soul is not here overcome ; bat Immortality is 
 morally certain, being demanded by the Practical Reason.] 
 
 Moral perfection thus provided for, God must be postulated 
 in order to find the ground of the required conj auction of 
 Felicity. Happiness is the condition of the rational being in 
 whose whole existence everything goes according to wish and 
 will ; and this is not the condition of man, for in him observ- 
 ance of the moral law is not conjoined with power of disposal 
 over the laws of nature. Bat, as Practical Reason demands 
 the conjunction, it is to be found only in a being who is the 
 author at once of Natare and of the Moral Law ; and this is 
 God. [The same remark once more applies, that here whaii 
 is obtained is a moral certainty of the existence of the Deity :
 
 324 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — ^KANT. 
 
 the negative result of the Critique of the Pait< (ajj t,j^aUve) 
 Reason abides what it was.] 
 
 We may now attempt to summarize this abstruse Ethical 
 theory of Kant. 
 
 I. — The Standard of morally good action (or rather Will), 
 as expressed in the different forms of the Categorical Impera- 
 tive, is the possibility of its being universally extended as a 
 law for all rational beings. His meaning conies out still better 
 in the obverse statement : The action is bad that cannot be, or 
 at least cannot be wished to be, turned unto a universal law. 
 
 II. — Kant would expressly demur to being questioned aa 
 to his Psychology of Ethics ; since he puts his own theory in 
 express opposition to every other founded upon any empirical 
 view of the mental constitution. Nevertheless, we may 
 extract some kind of answers to the usual queries. 
 
 The Faculty is the (pure Practical) Reason. The appre- 
 hension of what is morally right is entirely an affair of Reason ; 
 the only element of Feeling is an added Sentiment of Awe or 
 Respect for the law that Reason imposes, this being a law, 
 not only for me who impose it on myself, but at the same 
 time for every rational agent. [The Pure Reason, which 
 means with Kant the Faculty of Principles, is Speculative or 
 Practical. As Specidati've, it requires us to bring our know- 
 ledge (of the understanding) to certain higher unconditioned 
 unities (Soul, CosraoF, Cod) ; but there is error if these are 
 themselves regarded as facts of knowledge. As Practical, it 
 sets up an unconditional law of Daty in Action (unconditioned 
 by motives) ; and in this and in the related conception of the 
 Summum Bonum is contained a moral certainty of the Immor- 
 tality (of the soul), Freedom (in the midst of Natural Neces- 
 sity), and of God as existent,] 
 
 As to the- point of Free-will, nothing more need be said. 
 
 Disinterested Sentiment, as sentiiiient, is very little re- 
 garded : disinterested action is required with such rigour that 
 every act or disposition is made to lose its character as moral, 
 according as any element of interested feeling of any kind 
 enters into it. Kant obliterates the line between Duty and 
 Virtue, by making a duty of every virtue ; at least he con- 
 ceives clearly that there is no Virtue in doing what we are 
 strongly prompted to by inclination — that virtue must involve 
 Belf-sacrifice. 
 
 III. — His position with respect to Happiness is peculiar. 
 Happiness is not the end of action : the end of action is rather 
 the self-assertion of the rational faculty over the lower man.
 
 DUTIES. 325 
 
 If the constituents of Happiness conld be known — and they 
 cannot be — there would be no morality , but only lorudence in 
 the pursuit of them. To promote our own happiness is indeed a 
 duty, but in order to keep us from neglecting our other duties. 
 
 Nevertheless, he conceives it necessary that there should 
 be an ultimate equation of Virtue and Happiness ; and the 
 need of Happiness he then expressly connects with the sen- 
 suous side of our being. 
 
 IV. — His Moral Code may here be shortly presented 
 from the second part of his latest work, where it is fully given. 
 Distinguishing Moral Duties or (as he calls them) ' Virtue- 
 duties,'' left to be enforced internally by Conscience, from 
 Legal Duties (Bechtspjlichten), externally enforced, he divides 
 them into two classes — (A) Duties to Self; (B) Duties to 
 Others. 
 
 (A) Duties to Self. These have regard to the one private 
 Aim or End that a man can make a duty of, viz., his own 
 Ferfpctiou ; for his own Happiness, being provided for by a 
 natural propensity or inclination, is to himself no duty. They 
 are [a) perfect (negative or restrictive) as directed to mere 
 Self-Conservation ; {h) imperfect (positive or extensive) as 
 directed to the Advancement or Perfecting of one's being. 
 The perfect are concerned about Self (a), as an Animal crea- 
 ture, and then are directed against — (1) Self-destruction, (2) 
 Sexual Excess, (3) Intemperance in Eating and JDrinldng ; 
 (/3) as a Moral creature, and then are directed against — (1) 
 Lying, (2) Avarice, (3) Servility. The imperfect have reference 
 to (a) physical, Q-i) moral advancement or perfection (subjec- 
 tively. Purity or Holiness). 
 
 {Bj Duties to Otliers. These have regard to the only Aim 
 or End of others that a man can make a duty of, viz., their 
 HcLpjpiness , for their Perfection can be promoted only by them- 
 selves. Duties to others as men are metaphysically deducible ; 
 and application to sp)ecial conditions of men is to be made empiri- 
 cally. They include (a) Duties of Love, involving Merit or 
 Desert (i.e., return from the objects of them) in the perform- 
 ance : (1) Beneficence, (2) Gratitude, (3) Fellow-feeling; (6) 
 Duties of Respect, absolutely due to others as men ; the 
 opposites are the vices : (1 ) Haughtiness, (2) Slander, (3) Scorn- 
 fulness. In Friendship), Love and Respect are combined in 
 the highest degree. Lastly, he notes Social duties in human 
 intercourse [Affability, &c.) — these being outwo7'hs of morality. 
 
 He allows no special Duties to God, or Inferior Creatures, 
 beyond what is contained in Moral Perfection as Duty to Self,
 
 326 ETHICAL SYSTEMS— COUSIN. 
 
 V. — The conception of Law enters largely into Kaut'fl 
 theory of morals, but in a sense purely transcendental, and 
 not as subjecting or assimilating morality to positive political 
 institution. The Legality of external actions^ as well as the 
 Morality of internal disiJosHions, is determined by reference 
 to the one universal moral Imperative. The principle under- 
 lying all legal or jural (as opposed to moral or ethical) pro- 
 visions, is the necessity of uniting in a universal law of 
 freedom the spontaneity of each with the spontaneity of all 
 the others : individual freedom and freedom of all must be 
 made to subsist together in a universal law. 
 
 VI. — With Kant, Religion and Morality are very closely 
 connected, or, in a sense, even identified ; but the alliance is 
 not at the expense of Morality. So far from making this 
 dependent on Religion, he can find nothing but the moral 
 conviction whereon to establish the religious doctrines of 
 Immortality and the Existence of God ; while, in a special 
 work, he declares further that Religion consists merely in the 
 practice of Morality as a system of divine commands, and 
 claims to judge of all religious institutions and dogmas by the 
 mural consciousness. Besides, the Postulates themselves, in 
 which the passage to Religion is made, are not all equally 
 imperative, — Freedom, as the ground of the fact of Duty, being 
 more urgently demanded than others ; and he even goes so 
 far as to make the allowance, that whoever has sufficient moral 
 strength to fulfil the Law of Reason without them, is not 
 required to subscribe to them. 
 
 The modern French school, that has arisen in this cen- 
 tury under the combined influer 3e of the Scotch and the 
 German philosophy, has bestowed some attention on Ethics. 
 We end by noticing under it Cousin and JoujQfroy. 
 
 VICTOR COUSIN. [1792-1867.] 
 
 The analysis of Cousin's ethical views is made upon his 
 historical lectures Stir les Idees du Vrai, du Beau at du Bien, 
 as delivered in 1817-18. They contain a dogmatic exposition 
 of his own opinions, beginning at the 20th lecture ; the three 
 preceding lectures, in the section of the whole course devoted 
 to the Good, being taken up with the preliminary review of 
 other opinions required for his eclectical purpose. 
 
 He determines to consider, by way of psychological analysis, 
 the ideas and sentiments of every kind called up by the spec*
 
 FUNDAMENTAL ANALYSIS. 327 
 
 tacle of human actions; and first he notes actions that please 
 and displease the senses, or in some way affect our interest : 
 those that are agreeable and useful we naturally choose, avoid- 
 ing the opposites, and in this we are prwcZeu^. But there is 
 another set of actions, having no reference to our own per- 
 sonal interest, which yet we qualify as good or bad. When 
 an armed robber kills and spoils a defenceless man, we, though 
 beholding the sight in safety, are at once stirred up to disin- 
 terested horror and indignation. This is no mere passing sen- 
 timent, but includes a two-fold judgment, pronounced then 
 and ever after ; that the action is in itself bad, and that it 
 ought not to be committed. Still farther, our anger implies 
 that the object of it is conscious of the evil and the obligation, 
 and is therefore responsible ; wherein again is implied that he 
 is a free agent. And, finally, demanding as we do that he 
 should be punished, we pass what has been called a judgment 
 of merit and demerit, which is built upon an idea in our minds 
 of a supreme law, joining happiness to virtue and misfortune 
 to crime. 
 
 The analysis thus far he claims to be strictly scientific ; he 
 now proceeds to vary the case, taking actions of our own. I 
 am supposed entrusted by a dying friend with a deposit for 
 another, and a struggle ensues between interest and probity 
 as to whether I should pay it. If interest conquers, remorse 
 ensues. He paints the state of remorse, and analyzes it into 
 the same elements as before, the idea of good and evil^ of an 
 obligator!/ law, of liberty, of merit and demerit ; it tlius includes 
 the whole phenomenon of morality. The exactly opposite state 
 that follows upon the victory uf probity, is proved to imply 
 the same facts. 
 
 The ISIoral Sentiment, so striking in its character, has by 
 some been supposed the foundation of all morality, but in 
 point of fact it is itself constituted by these various judgments. 
 Now that they are known to stand as its elements, he 
 goes on to sulDJect each to a stricter analysis, taking first 
 the judgment of good and evil, which is at the bottom of 
 all tlie rest. It lies in the original constitution of human 
 nature, being simple and indecomposable, like the judg- 
 ment of the True and the Beautiful. It is absolute, and 
 cannot be withheld in presence of certain acts ; but it only 
 declares, and does not constitute, good and evil, these being 
 real and independent qualities of actions. Applied at first to 
 special cases, the judgment of good gives bu^th to general 
 principles that become rules for judging other actions. Like
 
 328 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — COUSIN. 
 
 other sciences, morality has its axioms, justly called moral 
 truths ; if it is good to keep an oath, it is also true, the oath 
 being made with no other purpose than to be kept. Faith- 
 ful guarding as m.uch belongs to the idea of a deposit, as the 
 equality between its three angles and two right angles to the 
 idea of a triangle. By no caprice or effort of will can a moral 
 verity be made in the smallest degree other than it is. 
 
 Biit, he goes on, a moral verity is not simply to be be- 
 lieved ; it must also be practised, and this is obligation, the 
 second of the elements of moral sentiment. Obligation, like 
 moral truth, on which it rests, is absolute, immutable, univer- 
 sal. Kant even went so far as to make it the principle of our 
 morality ; but this was subjectivizing good, as he had subjec- 
 tivized truth. Before there is an obligation to act, there must 
 be an intrinsic goodness in the action ; the real first truth of 
 morality is justice, i.e., the essential distinction of good and 
 evil. It is justice, therefore, and not duty, that strictly de- 
 serves the name of a principle. 
 
 The next element is llhertij. Obligation implies the faculty 
 of resisting desire, passion, &c., else there would be a contra- 
 diction in human nature. But the truest proof of liberty is to 
 be sought in the constant testimony of consciousness, that, in 
 wishing this or that, I am equally able to will the contrary. 
 He distinguishes between the power of willing and the power 
 of executing ; also between will and desire, or passion. In the 
 conflict between will and the tyranny of desire lies liberty ; 
 and the aim of the conflict is the fulfilment of duty. For the 
 will is never so free, never so much itself, as when yielding to 
 the law of duty. Persons are distinguished from Things in 
 having responsibility, dignity, intrinsic value. Because there 
 is in me a being worthy of respect, I am bound in duty to 
 respect myself, and have the rigid to be respected by yon. 
 My duty (he means, of course, what I owe to self) is the exact 
 measure of my right. The character of being a ^person is in- 
 violable, is the foundation of property, is inalienable by self 
 or others, and so forth. 
 
 He passes to the last element of the phenomenon of 
 moralit}^, the judgment of inerlt and demerit. The judgment 
 follows, as the agent is supposed free, and it is not affected 
 by lapse of time. It depends also essentially on the idea that 
 the agent knows good from evil. Upon itself follow the 
 notions of reward and punishment. Merit is the natural right 
 to be rewarded ; demerit, paradox as it may appear, the right 
 to be punished. A criminal would claim to be punished, if
 
 ETHICAL SENTIMENT. 329 
 
 he could comprehend the absolute necessity of expiation ; and 
 are there not real cases of such criminals ? But as there can 
 be merit without actual reward, so to be rev/arded does not 
 constitute merit. 
 
 If good, he continues, is good in itself, and ought to be 
 done without regard to consequences, it is no less true that 
 the consequenci|» of good cannot fail to be happy. Virtue 
 without happiness and crime without misfortune are a con- 
 tradiction, a disorder; which are hardly met with in the 
 world, even as it is, or. where in a few cases they are found, 
 are sure to be righted in the end by eternal justice. The 
 sacrifice supposed in virtue, if generously accepted and cour- 
 ageously undergone, has to be recompensed in respect of the 
 amount of happiness sacrificed. 
 
 Once more, he takes up the Sentiment^ which is the general 
 echo of all the elements of the phenomenon. Its end is to 
 make the mind sensible of the bond between virtue and hap- 
 piness ; it is the direct and vivid application of the law of 
 merit. Again, he touches the states of moral satisfaction and 
 remorse, speaks of our sympathy with the moral goodness of 
 others and our bc-nevolent feeling that arises towards them — 
 emotions all, but covering up judgments ; and this is the end 
 of his detailed analysis of the actual facts of the case. But 
 he still goes oq to sum up in exact expressions the foregoing 
 results, and he claims especially to have overlooked neither 
 the part played by Reason, nor the function of Sentiment. 
 The rational character of the idea of good gives morality its 
 firm foundation ; the lively sentiment helps to lighten the 
 often heavy burden of duty, and stirs up to the most heroic 
 deeds. Self-interest too is not denied its place. In this con- 
 nexion, led again to allude to the happiness appointed to 
 virtue here or at least hereafter, he allows that God may be 
 regarded as the fountain of morality, but only in the sense 
 that his will is the expression of his eternal wisdom and 
 justice. Religion crowns morality, uut morality is based 
 upon itself. The rest of the lecture is in praise of Eclecticism, 
 and advocates consideration of all the facts involved in 
 morality, as against exclusive theories founded upon only 
 some of the facts. 
 
 Lectures 21st and 22nd, compressed into one (Ed. 181'i) 
 contain the application of the foregoing principles, and toe 
 answer to the question, what our duties are. Daty being 
 absolute, truth becomes obligatory, and absolute truth being 
 known by the reason only, to obey the law of duty is to obey
 
 330 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — COUSIN. 
 
 reason. But what actions are conformable to reason ? The 
 characteristic of reason he takes to be Universality, and this 
 will appear in the motives of actions, since it is these that 
 confer on actions their morality. Accordingly, the sign' where- 
 by to discover whether an action is duty, is, if its motive 
 when generalized appear to the reason to be a maxim of 
 universal legislation for all free and intelligent beings. This, 
 the norm set up by Kant, as certainly discovers what is and 
 is not duty, as the syllogism detects the error and truth of an 
 argument. 
 
 To obey reason is, then, the first duty, at the root of all 
 others, and itself resting directly upon the relation between 
 liberty and reason ; in a sense, to remain reasonable is the 
 sole duty. But it assumes special forms amid the diversity of 
 human relations. He first considers the relations wherein 
 we stand to ourselves and the corresponding duties. That 
 there should be any such duties is at first sight strange, 
 seeing we belong to ourselves ; but this is not the same as 
 having complete power over ourselves. Possessing liberty, 
 we must not abdicate it by yielding to passions, and treat 
 ourselves as if there were nothing in us that merits respect. 
 We are to distinguish between what is peculiar to each of us, 
 and what we share with humanity. Individual peculiarities 
 are things indifferent, but the liberty and intelligence that 
 constitute us persons, rather than individuals, demand to be 
 respected even by ourselves. There is an obligation of self- 
 respect imposed upon us as moral persons that was not estab- 
 lished, and is not to be destroyed, by us. As special cases 
 of this respect of the moral person in us, he cites (1) the 
 duty of self-control against anger or melancholy, not for their 
 pernicious consequences, but as trenching upon the moral 
 dignity of liberty and intelligence; (2) the duty of prudence, 
 meaning providence in all things, which regulates courage, 
 enjoins temperance, is, as the ancients said, the mother of all 
 the virtues, — in short, the government of liberty by reason ; 
 (3) veracity; (4) duty towards the hocly ; (5) duty oi per- 
 fecting (and not merely keeping intact) the intelligence, 
 liberty, and sensibility that constitute us moral beings. 
 
 But the same liberty and intelligence that constitute me a 
 moral person, and need thus to be respected even by myself, 
 exist also in others, conferring rights on them, and imposing 
 new duties of respect on me relatively to them. To their 
 intelligence I owe Truth \ their liberty I am bound to respect, 
 sometimes even to the extent of not hindering them from
 
 GROUNDS OF THE SEVERAL DUTIES. 331 
 
 maldng a wrong use of it. I must respect also their affections 
 (family, &c.) which form part of themselves ; their bodies ; 
 their goods, whether acquired by labour or heritage. All these 
 duties are summed up in the one great duty of Justice or 
 respect for the rights of others ; of which the greatest violation 
 is slavery. 
 
 The whole of duty towards others is not however compre- 
 hended in justice. Conscience complains, if we have only not 
 done injustice to one in suffering. There is a new class of 
 duties — consolation^ charity, sacrifice — to which indeed cor- 
 respond no rights, and which therefore are not so obligatory 
 as jastice, but which cannot be said not to be obligatory. 
 From their nature, they cannot be reduced to an exact for- 
 mula ; their beauty lies in liberty. But in charity, he adds, 
 there is also a danger, from its effacing, to a certain extent, the 
 moral personality of the object of it. In acting upon others, 
 we risk interfering with their natural rights ; charity is there- 
 fore to be proportioned to the liberty and reason of the person, 
 benefited, and is never to be made the means of usurping 
 power over another. 
 
 Justice and Charity are the two elements composing social 
 morality. But what is social ? and on what is Society founded, 
 existing as it does everywhere, and makiag man to be what 
 he is ? Into the hopeless question of its origia he refuses to 
 enter ; its present state is to be studied by the light of the 
 knowledge of human nature. Its invariable foundations are 
 
 (1) the need we have of each other, and our social instincts, 
 
 (2) the lasting and indestructible idea and sentiment of righu 
 and justice. The need and instinct, of which he finds many 
 proofs, begin society ; justice crowns the work. The least 
 consideration of the relations of man to man, suggest the 
 essential principles of Society — justice, liberty, equality, 
 government, punishment. Into each of these he enters. 
 Liberty is made out to be assured and developed in society, 
 instead of diminished. Equality is established upon the char- 
 acter of moral personality, which admits of no degree. The 
 need of some repression upon liberty, where the liberty of 
 others is trenched upon, conducts to the idea of Government — 
 a disinterested third party armed with the necessary power to 
 assure and defend the liberty of all. To government is to be 
 ascribed, first its inseparable function of protecting the com- 
 mon liberty (without unnecessary repression), and next, bene- 
 ficent action, corresponding to the duty of charity. It requires, 
 for its guidance, a rule superior to itself, i.e., law, the expres-
 
 332 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — JOUFFROY. 
 
 sion of universal and absolute justice. Here follows tlie usual 
 distinction of positive and natural law. The sanction of law 
 is punishment ; the right of punishing, as was seen, depend- 
 ing on the idea of demerit. Punishment is not mere venge- 
 ance, but the expiation by the criminal of violated justice ; it is 
 to be measured therefore chiefly by the demerit and not by the 
 injury only. Whether, in punishing, allowance should be 
 made for correction and amelioration, is to put the same case 
 over again of charity coming in after justice. 
 
 Here the philosopher stops on the threshold of the special 
 science of politics. But already the fixed and invariable prin- 
 ciples of society and government have been given, and, even 
 in the relative sphere of politics, the rule still holds that all 
 forms and institutions are to be moulded as far as possible on 
 the eternal principles supplied by philosophy. 
 
 The following is a summary of Cousin's views : — 
 
 I. — The Standard is the judgment of good or evil in 
 actions. Cousin holds that good and evil are qualities of 
 actions independent of our judgment, and having a sort of 
 objective existence. 
 
 II. — The Moral Faculty he analyzes into four judgments : 
 (1) good and evil; (2) obhgation ; (8) freedom of the will; 
 and (4) merit and demerit. The moral sentiment is the 
 emotions connected with those judgments, and chiefly the 
 feeling connected with the idea of merit. [This analysis is 
 obviously redundant. ' Good ' and ' evil ' apply to many 
 things outside ethics, and to be at all appropriate, they must 
 be qualified as moral (i.e., obligatory) good and evil. The 
 connexion between obligation and demerit has been previously 
 explained.] 
 
 III. — In regard to the Summum Bonum, Cousin considers 
 that virtue must bring happiness here or hereafter, and vice, 
 misery. 
 
 IV. — He accepts the criterion of duties set forth by Kaut. 
 He argues for the existence of duties towards ourselves. 
 
 V. and VI. require no remark. 
 
 THEODORE SIMON JOUFFROY. [1796-1842.] 
 
 In the Second Lecture of his unfinished Gours de -Droit 
 Natiirel, Jouff'roy gives a condensed exposition of the Moral 
 Facts of human nature from his own point of view. 
 
 What distinguishes, he says, one being from another, is it? 
 Organization ; and as havinga special nature, every creature haa
 
 EVERY BEING HAS ITS SPECIAL END. 333 
 
 a special end. Its end or destination is its good, or its good 
 consists in the accomplishment of its end. Further, to have 
 an end implies the possession of faculties wherewith to attain 
 it ; and all this is applicable also to man. In man, as in other 
 creatures, from the very first, his nature tends to its end, by 
 means of purely instinctive movements, which may be called 
 primitive and instinctive tendencies of human nature ; later 
 they are called passions. Along with these tendencies, and 
 under their influence, the intellectual faculties also awake and 
 seek to procure for them satisfaction. The faculties work, 
 however, at first, in an indeterminate fashion, and only by 
 meeting obstacles are di'iven to the concentration necessary to 
 attain the ends. He illustrates this by the case of the intel- 
 lectual faculty seeking to satisfy the desire of knowledge, and 
 not succeeding until it concentrates on a single point its 
 scattered energies. This spontaneous concentration is the 
 first manifestation of Will, but is proved to be not natural 
 from the feeling of constraint always experienced, and the 
 glad rebound, after efi'ort, to the indeterminate condition. 
 One fact, too, remains even after everything possible has been 
 done, viz., that the satisfaction of the primitive tendencies is 
 never quite complete. 
 
 When, however, such satisfaction as may be, has been 
 attained, there arises pleasure; and pain, when our faculties 
 fail to attain the good or end they sought. There could be 
 action, successful and unsuccessful, and so good and evil, 
 without any sensibility, wherefore good and evil are not to be 
 confounded with pain and pleasure ; but constituted as we 
 are, there is a sensible echo that varies according as the result 
 of action is attained or not. Pleasure is, then, the conse- 
 quence, and, as it were, the sign of the realization of good, 
 and pain of its privation. 
 
 He next distinguishes Secondary passions from the great 
 primary tendencies and passions. These arise apropos of 
 external objects, as they are found to further or oppose the 
 satisfaction of the fundamental tendencies. Such objects^ are 
 then called useful or perrdcious. Finally, he completes his 
 account of the infantile or primitive condition of man, by 
 remarking that some ot our natural tendencies, like Symp;i':liy, 
 are entirely disinterested in seeking the good of others. The 
 main feature of the whole primitive state is the exclusive 
 domination of passion. The will already exists, but there is 
 no liberty ; the present passion triumphs over the future, the 
 Btrono-er over the weaker.
 
 334 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — JOUFFROY. 
 
 He now passes to consider the double transformation of 
 this original state, that takes place when reason appears. 
 Reason is the faculty of com.preliending, which is different from 
 knowing, and is peculiar to man. As soon as it awakes in man, 
 it comprehends, and penetrates to the meaning of, the whole 
 spectacle of human activity. It first forms the general idea 
 of Goody as the resultant of the satisfaction of all the primary 
 tendencies, and as the true End of man. Then, comprehend- 
 ing the actual situation of man, it resolves this idea into the 
 idea, of the greatest possible good. All that conduces to the 
 attainment of this good, it includes uiider the general idea of 
 the Useful; and finally, it constructs the general idea of 
 Hajppiness out of all that is common to the agreeable sensa- 
 tions that follow upon the satisfaction of the primary ten- 
 dencies. 
 
 But besides forming these three perfectly distinct ideas, 
 and exploring the secret of what has been passing within, the 
 reason also comprehends the necessity of subjecting to control 
 the faculties and forces that are the condition of the greatest 
 satisfaction of human nature. In the place of the merely 
 mechanical impulsion of passion, which is coupled with grave 
 disadvantages, it puts forward, as a new principle of action, 
 the rational calculation of interest. The faculties are brought 
 into the service of this idea of the reason, by the same process 
 of concentration as was needful in satisfying the passions ; 
 only now voluntarily instead of spontaneously. Being an idea 
 instead of a passion, the new principle supplies a real motive, 
 under whose guidance our natural power over our faculties 
 is developed and strengthened. All partial ends are merged 
 in the one great End of Interest, to which the means is self- 
 control. The first great change thus wrought by reason is, 
 that it takes the direction of the human forces into its own 
 hand, and althougli, even when by a natural transformation 
 the new system of conduct acquires all the force of a passion, 
 it is not able steadily to procure for the idea of interest the 
 victory over the single passions, the change nevertheless 
 abides. To the state of Passion has succeeded the state of 
 Egoism. 
 
 Reason must, however, he thinks, make another discovery 
 before there is a truly moral stato - must from general ideas 
 rise to ideas that are universal and absolute. There is no 
 real equation, he holds, between Good and the satisfaction of 
 the primitive tendencies, which is the good of egoism. Not 
 till the special ends of all creatures are regarded as elements
 
 IDEA OF UNIVERSAL ORDER. 335 
 
 of one great End of creation, of Universal Order, do we obtain 
 an idea whose equivalence to the idea of the Good requires no 
 proof. The special ends are good, because, through their 
 realization, the end of creation, which is the absolute Good, 
 is realized ; hence they acquire the sacred character that it 
 has in the eye of reason. 
 
 No sooner is the idea of Universal Order present to the 
 reason, than it is recognized as an absolute law ; and, in con- 
 sequence, the special end of our being, by participation in its 
 character of goodness and sacredness, is henceforth pursued 
 as a duty, and its satisfaction claimed as a right. Also every 
 creature assumes the same position, and we no longer merely 
 concede that others have tendencies to be satisfied, and con- 
 sent from Sympathy or Egoism to promote their good ; but 
 the idea of Universal Order makes it as much our duty to re- 
 spect and contribute to the accomplishment of their good as 
 to accomplish our own. From the idea of good-in-itself, i.e.. 
 Order, flow all duty, right, obligation, morality, and natural 
 legislation. 
 
 He carries the idea of Order still farther back to the 
 Deity, making it the expression of the divine thought, and 
 opening np the religious side of morality ; but he does not 
 mean that its obligatoriness as regards the reason is thereby 
 increased. He also identifies it, in the last resort, with the 
 ideas of the Beautiful and the True. 
 
 We have now reached the truly moral condition, a state 
 perfectly distinct from either of the foregoing. Even when 
 the egoistic and the moral determination prescribe the same 
 conduct, the one only counsels, while the other obliges. The 
 one, having in view only the greatest satisfaction of our 
 nature, is personal even when counselling benefits to others; 
 the other regarding only the law of Order, something distinct 
 from self, is impersonal, even when prescribing our own good. 
 Hence there is in the latter case devouement of self to some- 
 thing else, and it is exactly the deuouemeut to a something 
 that is not self, but is regarded as good, that gets the name 
 of virtue or mural good. Moral good is voluntary and intel- 
 ligent obedience to the law that is the rule of our conduct. 
 As an additional distinction between the egoistic and the moral 
 determination, he mentions the judgment of merit or demerit 
 that ensues upon actions when, and only when, they have a 
 moral character. No remorse follows an act of mere 
 imprudence involving: no violation of universal order. 
 
 He denies that there is any real contradiction among the
 
 336 ETHICAL SYSTEMS — JOUFFROY. 
 
 three difiPerent determinations. Nothing is prescribed in the 
 moral law that is not also in accordance with some primitive 
 tendency, and with self-interest rightly understood ; if it were 
 not so, it would go hard with virtue. On the other hand, if 
 everything not done from regard to duty were opposed to 
 moral law and order, society could not only not subsist, but 
 would never have been formed. When a struggle does ensue 
 between passion and self-interest, passion is blind ; when 
 between egoism and the moral determination, egoism is at 
 fault. It is in the true interest of Passion to be sacrificed to 
 Egoism, and of Egoism to be sacrificed to Order. 
 
 He closes the review of the various moral facts by 
 explaining in what sense the succession of the three states 
 is to he understood. The state of Passion is historically 
 first, but the Egoistic and the Moral states are not so sharply 
 defined. As soon as reason dawns it introduces the moral 
 motive as well as the egoistic, and to this extent the two 
 states are contemporaneous. Only, so far is the moral law 
 from being at this stage fully conceived, that, in the majority 
 of men, it is never conceived in its full clearness at all. Their 
 confused idea of moral law is the so-called moral co7iscience, 
 which works more like a sense or an instinct, and is inferior 
 to the clear rational conception in everything except that It 
 conveys the full force of obligation. In its grades of guilt 
 human justice rightly makes allowance for different degrees 
 of intelligence. The Egoistic determination and the Moral 
 state, such as it is, once developed, passion is not to be sup- 
 posed abolished, but henceforth what really takes place in 
 all is a perpetual alternation of the various states. Yet though 
 no man is able exclusively to follow the moral determination, 
 and no man will constantly be under the influence of any one 
 of the motives, there is one motive commonly uppermost 
 whereby each can be characterized. Thus men, according 
 to their habitual conduct, are known as passionate, egoistic, or 
 virtuous. 
 
 We now summarize the opinions of Jouff*roy : — 
 I. — The Standard is the Idea of Absolute Good or Uni- 
 versal Order in the sense explained by the author. Like 
 Cousin, he identifies the ' good ' with the ' true.' What, 
 then, is the criterion that distinguishes moral from other 
 iruths ? If ohligation be selected as the differentia, it is in 
 effect to give up the attempt to determine what truths are 
 obligatory. Tlie idea of ' good ' is obviously too vague to be 
 a differentia. How &-r the idea of ' Universal Order ' gets us
 
 SUMMARY. 337 
 
 out of the difficnlty may be doubted, especially after tbe 
 candid admission of tbe author, that it is an idea of wbicb tbe 
 majority of men have never any very clear notions. 
 
 II. — The moral faculty is Reason ; Conscience is hardly 
 more than a confused feeling of obligatoriness. 
 
 Sympathy is one of tbe primitive tendencies of our nature. 
 Jouffroy's opinion on the subject is open to tbe objections 
 urged against Butler's psychology. 
 
 He upholds the freedom of the Will, but embarrasses his 
 argument by admitting, like Reid, that there is a stage in our 
 existence when we are ruled by the passions, and are destitute 
 of liberty. 
 
 III. — The Summum Bonum is the end of every creature; 
 the passions ought to be subordinated to self-interest, and 
 self-interest to morality. 
 
 In regard to the other points, it is unnecessary to continue 
 the Bummary. 
 
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