Dissertation on the progress of ethical philosophy : chiefly during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries

Front matter

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ALCOVE, SHELF, eS

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Section 1. Preliminary Observations. : ‘

2. Retrospect of Ancient Ethics i . ‘ ‘

GRorTIvus : ‘ 3 Hosses Remarks . ‘ ;

5, Controversies concerning the Moral Faculties and the Social Affections .

CUMBERLAND ., 3 Cupwortn . : ; ; .

CLARKE : : ‘ Remarks SHAPTESBURY FENELON—BossvuetT i Lerpnirz ; Remarks . : M ALEBRANCHE - Epwarps ; ‘ ; ; : BurFier 5

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Section 6. Foundations of a more just Theory of Ethics Page 133 BuTLER ; : 5 ; : . 1384

HurcuHEson . : : ; : 5 Tee!

BERKELEY * : ; 5 : Say.

HartTLey ‘ : : ' me 7d

STEWART : é : ‘ ; 6 DRAG

7. General Remarks : : : : : eyes

Norsgs anp ILLUSTRATIONS . : ; ; : : : 275

ADVERTISEMENT.

Tue following Dissertation forms one of a series of similar Pieces, intended to exhibit a view of the History of the Sciences, and which compose the first or introductory volume of the seventh edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica. In presenting it to the world detached from that work, the proprietors have complied with a wish very frequently expressed for its separate publication; and they think themselves fortunate in being enabled to accompany it with a Preface which presents a succinct and comprehensive view of its leading objects and doctrines. As allusion is there made to the “ irregular and interrupted manner” in which it was written, and to the want of any notice of the recent Ethical speculations of the Continental Philosophers, it may be proper, in justice to the very eminent author, to lay before the reader the following history of its composition, as given in the interesting Memoirs of his Life, lately published by his Son.

“The late Mr. Dugald Stewart, and Mr. Playfair, had agreed to furnish dissertations, the one on the history of Metaphysical, Ethical, and Political Philosophy, the other on the history of Mathematical and Physical Science, to be prefixed to the Supplement to the Encyclopedia Britannica. The design was not completed by either

1*

6 ADVERTISEMENT.

of those illustrious writers. Both died before their respective portions of it were finished. The history of the mathematical and physical sciences, by the latter, was brought down to the period marked by the discoveries of Newton and Leibnitz; and the history of metaphysical philosophy was, by the former, brought down to the close of the last century. In treating this great branch of his subject, Mr. Stewart has occasionally adverted to the kindred branches of ethics and politics; but there was wanting to the completion of his design a full view of the progress of opinion in those sciences, particularly during the eighteenth century. In 1828, a new and improved edition of the Encyclopedia, being the seventh, was projected, and 1t was a part of the Editor’s plan for the improvement of this edition, to continue the magnificent historical dissertations that had been published with the Supplement, and to prefix the whole, in their completed form, to this edition of the principal work. A proposal to write a dissertation, in continuation of that of Mr. Stewart, upon the Ethical and Political Philosophy of the last century, was, in August, 1828, accordingly made to Sir James, by the Editor, Mr. Macvey Napier. Having already resolved to devote the remainder of his labours to British history, he had considerable difficulty in acceding to the proposal. But his love of the subject, his natural wish to preserve some of his early reading and reflections, and the entreaties of Mr. Napier, who had a few years before been introduced to him by Mr. Stewart, and with whom he was in the habit of corres ponding, prevailed over his scruples, and an agreement in consequence took place for the execution of an historical dissertation, embracing this object, and extending over the period that had been left untouched by his predecessor. It had originally been agreed, as above stated,

ADVERTISEMENT. 7 that the dissertation should include political as well as ethical philosophy, but the author’s uncertain health, and the parliamentary duties of an interesting crisis, occasioned the abandonment of this part of the plan, and even obliged him to omit the history of the ethical philosophy of the Continent.

“Tn a letter to Mr. Napier, dated in January, 1829, he says, ‘I am now reconciled to my labour by a new rising hope, that it may enable me to make some of the contributions to Ethics which, in more ambitious days, I presumed to expect would have been more extensive.’ And in another letter, written about the same time, he thus expresses himself: ‘ You will see 1 have made some (I hope useful) additions to one of the sections, and I would have made more, if I could have afforded the time. But, alas! I have none to spare; otherwise, I like this sort of work much better than any other.’ Speaking of his progress, a little afterwards, he says, ‘I begin to hope well of my discourse, which I endeavoured to make a development of ethical principles, as they historically arose — a new attempt in our language.’

“ Again, he thus adverts to the section on Bishop Butler then just finished :— ‘The part in which I think I have done most service, is that in which I have endeavoured to slip in a foundation under Butler’s doctrine of the supremacy of conscience, which he left baseless.’ When he came, in April, 1829, to fear that it would be necessary to abandon all notice, not only of the progress of political philosophy, but also of the ethical philosophy of the Continent, he expressed great regret at the probable omission of this last section. ‘Lshall be quite sorry,’ he said, ‘if time should require the omission of the continental part, which would be the newest of the whole.’

‘“No one could be more thoroughly aware than himself

8 ADVERTISEMENT.

of the imperfections that must attach to a work on such a subject, written by snatches, and amidst such frequent and sometimes distressing interruptions; and he accordingly mentions that it was very earnestly his wish ‘to leave an edition of it, with such improvements as time, criticism, conversation, and reflection might suggest.’ This very natural wish he unfortunately did not live long enough to have an opportunity afforded him of carrying into execution.”

Preface

Tue publication of Sir James Mackintosh’s ‘ Dissertation on the Progress of Ethical Philosophy,” detached from the voluminous work of which it originally appeared as part,* will probably be acceptable to a large portion of the English public. The author’s extensive acquaintance with the literature of the subject, his com-_ prehensive and philosophical view, his sagacity as a critic, and his skill as a writer, have long been generally acknowledged. The work now before the reader afforded a favourable field for the exercise of his talents, and cannot fail to attract attention from all who feel any interest in him or his subject.

A History of the Philosophy of Morals may, for many purposes, be considered as forming a large portion of the Philosophy itself; and probably, to most readers, the portion which is by far the most agreeable. ‘The writer of such a history, if it be worthy the name, must present all that has been done by the moralists of preceding times as steps in a progress ; and must thus be led to point out the ultimate position which the subject has in his own day assumed.

The history of ethical speculations which the following Dissertation contains, has, however, not only the merit of exhibiting the present condition of ethical philosophy, but has also a peculiar advantage in the point of view from which the subject is regarded; since the author’s opinions were, in the main, those to which the most moderate and popular writers of his own country had generally been led, and which had therefore most influenced general literature and common reasonings. A view of moral philosophy written in such a spirit, escapes, and may in some measure

* The new edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica.

correct, the exaggerations and paradoxes of new and immature theories.

Some of Mackintosh’s views were peculiarly his own, but much of his system of opinions was adopted from the doctrines of the great philosophers whom he here reviews. Perhaps some hight may be thrown on the following Dissertation by stating the main points of both kinds, as they may be collected from the work itself: and this will be in some measure done in the present Preface. Also, as the ethical system embraced by Mackintosh included some tenets which have in our own time been the subject of much controversy, and on which it appears to me that errors have been widely prevalent, I have ventured to make a few remarks, such as I thought most fitted to put the doctrines in their proper point of view. I may add, that as my auther’s survey is in a great measure restricted to British wiiters, I have not thought myself called on to take note of the direction which ethical speculations have recently assumed in France and Germany, or of the indications which have appeared in the literature of our own country of the influence of these foreign impulses.

The views which Mackintosh entertained, and which were peculiarly the result of his own reasonings, are delivered in various parts of the Dissertation, but will perhaps become more intelligible by being stated as they are to be collected from the whole. The work was written in an irregular and interrupted manner; a circumstance which introduced many repetitions, and a mixture of the didactic with the historical portions, which may have given rise to some confusion.

I. ‘The first main point in Mackintosh’s view of ethics, is his opinion, that those which are usually termed the benevolent affections (as, for example, parental love and compassion) are properly described as disinterested. 'This doctrine he notices as one of the valuable truths which Butler brought clearly into view (p. 136); and he attaches to it so much consequence, that, in concluding his Dissertation (p. 273), he declares himself ready to relinquish his theory if it be proved to be at variance with the reality of the social affections, which he there speaks of as the most indisputable and the most important part of human nature.

Opinions opposite to this have been asserted in various forms: some, for instance, have said, that the affections are all merely forms of self-love ; or that they are selfish ; or that they really regard self; or have professed to deduce them from some selfish principle, as Hobbes from the love of power. A few remarks may here suffice on each of these modifications of the selfish system.

(1.) Butler, and after him other writers, as well as Mackintosh, wish, for the sake of clearness, to confine the application of the term self-love to that cool and prudential regard to our own welfare which weighs and estimates the chances and means of happiness: and which is thus distinct from the passions and affections which impel us to action immediately, without intervening reflection or calculation of consequences. It will probably be universally allowed, that gratitude or pity, friendship or fial love, are clearly distinct from self-love, in this sense. ‘The term self-love has been objected to altogether by some persons, and Mackintosh himself appears to be dissatisfied with it (p. 254). Yet it seems to be not unapt to describe that state of mind in which we ,regard ourselves as external and detached objects of solicitude, and provide for our own wellbeing, as we would do for that of a friend whose passions we can resist, and whose future and permanent good we try to secure, without losing our calmness of feeling and clearness of view. ‘The self-love which alms at our own welfare in such a temper may make us do kind actions ; but it is, in itself, broadly distinguished from kindness and love of other persons.

But further, it is argued by Butler and Mackintosh, that not only the benevolent affections, but the appetites also, are clearly distinguishable from this self-love. A man may, as Butler says, eat from self-love, out of a regard to his health ; he may also eat from the appetite of hunger ; but the grounds of action are plainly different in the two cases. The gratification which results from the act does not make it an act of self-love. And just as little, they urge, does the gratification which accompanies the exercise of the domestic, or any other benevolent affections, justify us in ascribing them to such self-love as we have described.

(2.) As the object of the appetites is something different from ourselves and our own feelings, the object of the benevolent desires is so too. As food is the object of hunger, the gratification or the wellbeing of the child is the object of parental affection. The pleasure which results when the object is attained is not the aim of the agent, for it does not enter into his contemplation ; nor could we derive pleasure from the attainment of such objects except the desire had previously existed (pp. 136, 145). In conformity with this view, it is maintained by the writers of this school, that neither the appetites nor the desires can properly be called selfish. (Stewart’s Outlines of Moral Philosophy, p. 86.)

The term selfish, which is, I think, not used by Butler in the part of his works now referred to, is, however, that about which the controversy on this subject has generally raged most hotly. In opposition to the opinion just stated, it has often been said, that the desire of power, of wealth, of superiority, of esteem, are selfish principles.

If it be contended that these desires (and the benevolent affections for the same reason) are selfish because they are felt by self, Mackintosh answers (p. 137), that acts of the understanding, and processes of reasoning, might be called selfish on the same ground. But it is easily seen that something different from this is usually meant by the assertion. When it is popularly contended that the love of fame, for instance, is a selfish principle of action, it is generally implied that this affection is more selfish than to common eyes it appears. The assertor gives himself credit for having analyzed the motive in question into elements not immediately obvious ; —for discerning that a feeling, which at first appears to have an elevated and exterior aim, has, in fact, latently, a reflex view and a lower object. The disposition which men have to be pleased with such attempts at the dissection of motives into baser elements, is widely prevalent: it is this disposition, for instance, which has given to the maxims of La Rochefoucauld their charm and their popularity.

But the flashes of the epigrammatist, whatever applause they may excite, are not likely to be of much Use as a light to the philosophical reason; and the question, What motives can properly be called selfish, as a point of moral philosophy, must be decided in a very different spirit. Now, the popular disposition to detect selfishness in human motives is obviously accompanied by a depreciating estimate of the feelings in which this taint is perceived. But this disapproval, in spite of the conceit and illnature in which it may originate, manifestly implies a belief that men’s feelings may be, and ought to be, other than selfish ; for how can we contemn a person for having selfish feelings only, if human nature admits of no others? The common application of the term selfish, implies a moral disapprobation as well as a metaphysical analysis. We endeavour in vain to dissolve this association ; and yet, so long as it subsists, it is plain that the condemnation which we pronounce, in some cases, implies the possibility of cases in which it is not deserved. If we despise the love of fame as a selfish motive, we reserve our admiration for motives of a different class. The emphasis with which we apply the term, implies that it is not universally applicable. But when we assert, as a universal philosophical truth, that all our affections are selfish, we employ the word in a technical manner, distinct from its common use. Now, where is the advantage to philosophy of telling us that our love of parents and friends, that our gratitude and compassion, are selfish feelings, if the assertion be true, only when the word is used in a sense different from the common one? ‘The paradox startles us ; when explained, it ceases to shock; but why incur the necessity of such an explanation? It must be allowed that such affections as I have just mentioned deserve and attract our love and approbation as much as any feelings can do; why, then, use terms which seem fitted only to direct towards them our disapproval and aversion ?

We may add, with Brown (Lectures, vol. iv., p. 63), that if the benevolent and virtuous affections are to be called selfish, it will be necessary to form two divisions of selfish actions ;— one containing those selfish actions in which self is the direct object ; the other containing those very different selfish actions which are usually called disinterested. Till it is seen what advantage would be gained by this new nomenclature, it is surely better to use terms in their usual sense.

It is not easy to fix precise limits to the use of the term selfish, which thus denotes, not a positive philosophical attribute, but @ comparative quality, to which some blame inevitably elings. Mackintosh says well (p. 137), ‘The weakness of the social affections, and the strength of the private desires, properly con- _Stitute selfishness.”? And Stewart (Outlines, p. 114) gives nearly the same account of this word, which he illustrates by saying, ‘Though we apply the epithet selfish to avarice, and to low and private sensuality, we never apply it to the desire of knowledge, or to the pursuits of virtue, which are certainly sources of more exquisite pleasures than riches or sensuality ean bestow.”

(3.) That the benevolent affections, in their usual form, have not self for their immediate object, is so evident that it needs hardly to be insisted on. -In what sense can the mother who unhesitatingly exposes her life to save that of her child, be said to regard herself, of whom she never once thinks? In what way does Desdemona act from self-regard, when, in the very article of death, she endeavours to shelter the reputation of the husband who murders her?* To speak of self as the object of the regard or contemplation of the person acting in such instances, or in any instances in which the action proceeds direetly from the benevolent affections, is to deprive words and phrases of all distinct and intelligible meaning and use.

(4.) When any particular theory is propounded, by which the results of the benevolent affections are traced to some remote interested principle, a refutation of the theory is readily suggested by a consideration. of the common characteristic circumstances of the affections. Thus, with regard to Hobbes’s system — that the affections have their origin in the love of power — Butler answers briefly, but satisfactorily, that such an hypothesis does not lead us to any thing at all resembling the known state of the case ; — that we wish good to others quite independently of our being ourselves the authors of it ;— that we make distinctions among the objects of our good will, where the love of power would make

* Desdemona. A guiltless death 1 die.

Emilia. O who hath done This deed?

Desdemona. Nobody ; I myself; farewell; Commend me to my kind lord; O farewell. — (Dies. )

no difference ;— that the love of power would be gratified by doing harm as well as good, and that thus cruelty and benevolence would be the same affection. (Sermon I, Note ; and the following Dissertation, p. 92.) And if it were proposed to reduce the benevolent affections to any other system of original principles and associations of thought, it might be answered, that if these supposed original principles involve the desire of any besides physical pleasures (as the desire of wealth, power, dignity), they themselves require analysis, at least as much as the affections. It is, at least, as possible to love a father as it is to desire his estate ; and the greatest good that the estate can procure us, can hardly consist of anything more intelligible than filial love. Nor would such an hypothesis avail us ; for the affections are, in the greater number of cases, far stronger than any aggregation of such supposed elements would make them. ‘lo what purpose do we associate ideas with the desire of wealth, power, and dignity, in order to form the family affections, if we are compelled to allow that the whole feeling thus produced is greater than the sum of all its parts? To claim philosophical merit for such an analysis of the disinterested emotions into the effects of association of ideas, is to deprive the terms Association and Analysis of all meaning. Or how are our benevolent affections accounted for by the need we have of our friends as means, if this regard to the means be both much stronger and much more distinctly intelligible than the regard to the endscan ever become? Does not this show that, in fact, the hypothetical end is not our end?

On such grounds, Mackintesh and other writers appear to do well in arranging the benevolent affections as a class of principles of action distinct from the desire of power, superiority, and the like. ‘Those are not capable of being analyzed into these, and we are sensible of an insurmountable incongruity when the two classes are brought into comparison. Ifthe love of a parent be a compound of love of power and similar ingredients, will it not follow, that if we expect to gain power by sacrificing a parent rather than by serving him, it is consistent with the nature of our best affections that we should do so? And is not this a conelusion too monstrous to be accepted by any moralist? ‘The beneyolent and family affections, and the desire of power, appears then, to differ in some other way than in being modifications of the same elements ; and, even if we choose (unphilosophically as it has appeared) to call the latter class of principles selfish, the former must be arranged ina different group, which we cannot designate better than by calling them disinterested.

Il. The next leading principles of Mackintosh’s philosophy are, the independent existence and the supremacy of the conscience or moral faculty. Here also he ascribes to Butler the merit of having first brought these doctrines into a clear light (p. 138) ; though Hutcheson, who had somewhat of a steadier view of this faculty, gave it the name of the moral sense.

The question of the moral sense has been much discussed since Butler’s time. It is not necessary here to go fully into this controversy, but I may be allowed to make a few remarks on some of the arguments connected with the following Dissertation.

(1.) In the-first place, as to the existence of the moral faculty. It is allowed on all sides that we have a conception of moral obligation; and the question is, Whether this conception can be resolved into some operation of the intellectual faculties, as the perception of general utility ; or whether, on the contrary, it is incapable of being thus resolved, and must properly be ascribed to a separate faculty.

It will readily appear that the discussion of this question must be attended by great difficulties, for we cannot easily find a test to determine, or terms to express, the identity or the difference of our perceptions of the useful and the right. These internal perceptions can only be described by means of analogical and metaphorical language ; and this must discharge its office very imperfectly. Even with respect to external senses, where the meaning of our terms is naturally much more clear and palpable, an exacttreatment of such questions is far from easy. We cannot, by mere language, convey a conception of the difference of sights and sounds. Is the perception of form a different. faculty from the perception of colour? ‘This question has been found extremely perplexing ; we may therefore be certain that the question of the distinct existence of the moral faculty will require great clearness and steadiness of thought for its solution.

But still the question does not seem to be incapable of answer,

Do we mean the same thing when we say that an action is right, and when we say that it is, on the whole, and taken in all its consequences, useful? It must be observed, that the question is not, Whether right actions are, on the whole, useful ; for that we will suppose to be granted ; but it is, Whether, by describing them as right, we mean nothing more than that we believe them to be useful? If by right, and by equivalent words, we intend some quality and attribute which useful and similar terms do not express, we must have the faculty of conceiving such a quality ; and this faculty is the moral sense. Such a faculty Butler, and after him many modern writers, including Mackintosh, hold to be part of human nature. The following are some of the grounds for his opinion :

(2.) The words which express what is morally right, and the related ideas, cannot be replaced by any different set of terms. Right, duty, what we ought to do, are not expressed to the satisfaction of any one by any phraseology borrowed from the consideration of consequences. ‘They are as untranslatable into the language which contemplates utility alone, as the names of colours are incapable of being expressed by those denoting the properties of space. When I say that an act is my duty, that it is right, I give an entire assent to the rule which commands me to do it, whatever be the consequences. It may be true that all acts of duty are, taken in all their consequences, useful ; but assuredly this is not what we mean, this is not the quality we ascribe to them, by the use of such terms.

Perhaps the most distinctive of these terms is the word ought, and the corresponding words which occur in all languages. It is universally felt that when we say, in a moral sense, that we ought to do any action, we mean something different from saying it is advantageous in its consequences. This word ought, which, as Mackintosh says, ‘‘ most perfectly denotes duty,” appears to be the simplest and most universal expression of the moral sense.

(3.) The impossibility of wresting this word, ought, to the side of the utilitarian theory, may, I think, be inferred from the amusing vehemence with which Mr. Bentham endeavours to expel it from his territory. ‘‘ The talisman of arrogance, indolence, and ignorance, is to be found in a single word, an authoritative imposture,

Q* which in these pages it will be frequently necessary to unveil. It is the word ‘ ought,’ ‘ ought or ought not,’ as circumstances may be. In deciding you ought to do this, you ought not to do it, is not every question of morals set at rest ?

‘CTf the use of the word be admissible at all, it ‘ ought’ to be banished from the vocabulary of morals.”? (Deontology, vol. 1., p. 32.)

Till this is done, he proposes to neutralize this obnoxious term by the use of another potent word —‘ why ?’

It is clear that the reason why the word so frequently occurs to excite Mr. Bentham’s displeasure, is, that it refers to a universal and unavoidable aspect of actions, which men constantly recognise, and cannot help expressing in the words they familiarly employ. And Mr. Bentham’s ‘why’? involves an assumption no less dogmatical than that of which he complains ; for by it he intends to preseribe that the answer shall be in no other language than that of the utilitarian theory.

(4.) The unavoidable occurrence of the conception implied in the word ougit, notwithstanding that it resists the attempt at analysis of which we have just spoken, may be interred from its use by those whose theoretical views would lead them to reject it; as, for example, Mr. Bentham himself. He supposes a controversy between an ancient and a modern moralist. (Deont , vol. 1., p. 72.) ‘The modern, as probably he will keep neither his principles nor his temper, says to the ancient, ‘ Your moral sense is nothing to the purpose ; yours is corrupt, abominable, detestable ; all nations cry out against you.’ ‘No such thing,’ replies the ancient; ‘ and if they did, it would be nothing to the purpose: our business was to inquire, not what people think, but what they ought to think.’ And this ‘ ought”? of the ancients is supposed to terminate the controvery, so far as dialogue is concerned.*

* Perhaps the reader may be amused by Mr, Bentham’s mode of winding up the scene: — ‘¢ l'hereupon the modern kicks the ancient or spits in his face; or, if he is strong enongh, throws him behind the fire. One can think of no other method that is at once natural and consistent, of continuing the debate.” It is satisfactory to see that Mr. Bentham does not seem to have thought that the use of the word ought by the one party, though very provoking, justified the extreme measures which he describes on the other side,