Moral Science; a Compendium of Ethics Part 18

The author, considering his thesis established, deduces from it the corollary, that morality is _eternal and immutable_. As an object of the Understanding, 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 the 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 principle 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 G.o.d 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 another phase of the view that he is combating.

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, it would seem that the reference to a sense is the suitable explanation, he still contends for the intervention of the Understanding. The character of the Deity must appear more amiable the better it is _known_ and _understood_. A reasonable being, without any special sensibilities, but knowing what order and happiness are, would receive pleasure from the contemplation 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 circ.u.mstances 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_. Our appet.i.tes and pa.s.sions 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 perception of the understanding_ and _a feeling of the 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 differs 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 const.i.tution, 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 const.i.tutional tendencies. These const.i.tutional tendencies the author considers as made up of our Appet.i.tes and Pa.s.sions, 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 IV. 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 determines, with regard to a virtuous agent, that he ought to be the better for his virtue. The ground of such determination, however, is not solely that virtuous conduct promotes the 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 rect.i.tude, the intrinsic fitness of the procedure in both aspects.

Chapter V. is ent.i.tled 'Of the Reference of Morality to the Divine Nature; the Rect.i.tude of our Faculties; and the Grounds of Belief.' The author means to reply to the objection that his system, in setting up a criterion independent of G.o.d, 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 supposes 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 s.p.a.ce or of duration are not possible. The necessary goodness of the divine nature is a part of necessary truth.

Thus, morality, although not a.s.serted to depend on the will of the Deity, is still resolvable into his nature. In all this, Price avowedly follows Cudworth.

He then starts another difficulty. May not our faculties be mistaken, or be so const.i.tuted as to deceive us? To which he gives the reply, made familiar to us by Hamilton, that the doubt is suicidal; the faculty that doubts 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, pa.s.sions, &c.; (2) Intuition, comprising self-evident truths; and (3) Deduction, or Argumentation. He discusses under these the existence of a material world, and affirms that we have an Intuition that it is _possible_.

Chapter VI. considers Fitness and Moral Obligation, and other prevailing forms of expression regarding morality. Fitness and Unfitness denote Congruity or Incongruity, and are necessarily a perception of the Understanding.

The term Obligation is more perplexing. Still, it is but another name for _Rightness_. What is Right is, by that very fact, obligatory.

Obligation, therefore, cannot be the creature of law, for law may command what is morally wrong. The will of G.o.d enforced by rewards and punishments cannot make right; it would only determine what is _prudent_. Rewards and punishments do not make obligation, but suppose it. Rect.i.tude is a LAW, the authoritative guide of a rational being. It is Supreme, universal, unalterable, and indispensable. 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 rect.i.tude. 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 obliger.

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 a.s.signed. When we compare innocence and eternal misery, we are struck with the idea of unsuitableness, 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 intrinsic rect.i.tude in keeping faith; and giving the usual arguments 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 veracity. 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 cla.s.sification of Virtue comprehends (1) Duty to G.o.d, 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) Grat.i.tude. (5) Veracity, which he inculcates with great earnestness, adverting especially to impartiality and honesty in our enquiries after truth. (6) Justice, which he treats in its application to the Rights of Property. He considers that the difficulties in practice arise partly from the conflict of the different heads, and partly from the different modes of applying 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 depravity is able utterly to destroy our moral discernment.

Chapter VIII. treats of Intention as an element in virtuous action. He makes a distinction between Virtue in the Abstract and Virtue in Practice, or with reference to all the circ.u.mstances 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 which there can be no perception of good and evil, and no moral agency. (3) The Consciousness of Rect.i.tude, or Righteous Intention. On this he dwells at some length. No 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? he replies: Not the Instinctive benevolence of the parent, but only Rational benevolence; which he allows to coincide with rect.i.tude. 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 Difficulties 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 chapter, on Natural Religion, contains nothing original.

To sum up the views of Price:--

I.--As regards the Moral Standard, he a.s.serts that a perception of the Reason or the Understanding,--a sense of fitness or congruity between actions and the agents, and all the circ.u.mstances 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 understanding and a feeling of the heart. He thus re-admits an element of feeling, along with the intellect, in some undefined degree; contending only that _all morality_ is not to be resolved into feeling or instinct. We have also noticed another singular admission, to the effect that only superior natures can discover virtue by the understanding. Reason alone, did we possess it in a high degree, would answer all the ends of the pa.s.sions. Parental affection 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 admitted 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 power 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 const.i.tution 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 discernment, 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 provides nothing but a repet.i.tion of Butler (Chapter III.) and a vague a.s.sertion of the absurdity of denying disinterested benevolence.

III.--On Human Happiness, he has only a few general remarks. Happiness is an object of essential and eternal value. Happiness is the _end_, and the _only_ end, conceivable by us, of G.o.d's providence and government; but He pursues this end in subordination to rect.i.tude.

Virtue tends to happiness, but does not always secure it. A person that sacrifices his life rather than violate his conscience, or betray his country, gives up all possibility of any present reward, and loses the more in proportion as his virtue is more glorious.

Neither on the Moral Code, nor in the relations of Ethics to Politics 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 ent.i.tled, OF THE PROPRIETY OF ACTION. _Section I._ is, _'Of the Sense of Propriety.'_ Propriety is his word for Rect.i.tude or Right.

Chapter I., ent.i.tled, 'Of Sympathy,' is a felicitous ill.u.s.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 expression of others; effects extending even to fict.i.tious representations. 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 pa.s.sion 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.

Chapter II. is 'Of the Pleasure of Mutual Sympathy.' It contains ill.u.s.trations of the delight that we experience in the sympathy of others; we being thereby strengthened in our pleasures 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 affections by their consonance with our own,' The author ill.u.s.trates the obvious remark, that we approve of the pa.s.sions 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 other 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 sufferer; 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 fully met by the other; which very circ.u.mstance 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 V. makes an application of these remarks to explain 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 princ.i.p.al 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 pa.s.sions which are consistent with propriety_.' Under this head he reviews the leading pa.s.sions, remarks how far, and why, we can sympathize with each.

Chapter I. is on the Pa.s.sions having their origin in the body. We can sympathize with hunger to a certain limited extent, and in certain circ.u.mstances; but we can rarely tolerate any very prominent expression of it. The same limitations apply to the pa.s.sion of the s.e.xes. We partly sympathize with bodily pain, but not with the violent expression of it. These feelings are in marked contrast to the pa.s.sions seated in the imagination: wherein our appet.i.te 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 Pa.s.sions depending on a peculiar turn of the Imagination. Under this he exemplifies chiefly the situation of two lovers, with whose pa.s.sion, in its intensity, a third person cannot sympathize, although one may enter into the hopes of happiness, and into the dangers and calamities often flowing from it.

Chapter III. is on the Unsocial Pa.s.sions. These necessarily 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 pa.s.sion itself an element of the disagreeable and repulsive; its manifestation is naturally distasteful. 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.

Chapter IV. gives the contrast of the Social Pa.s.sions. It is with the humane, the benevolent sentiments, that our sympathy is unrestricted and complete. Even in their excess, they never inspire aversion.

Chapter V. is on the Selfish Pa.s.sions. He supposes these, in regard to sympathy, to hold a middle place between the social and the unsocial.

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 mankind 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 concerned. It is agreeable to sympathize with joy, and we do so with the heart; the painfulness of entering into grief and misery holds us back. Hence, as he remarked before, the magnanimity and n.o.bleness of the man that represses his woes, and does not exact our compa.s.sionate partic.i.p.ation.