originate with the intellect, but with the emotional faculties. The intellect, uninfluenced by desire, would show both miser and spendthrift that their habits were imwise; whereas the intellect, influenced by desire, makes each think the other a fool, but does not enable him to see his own fooUshness.
Now this law is at work universally. Every feeling is ac- companied by a sense of the rightness of those actions which give it gratification — tends to generate convictions that things are good or bad, according as they bring to it pleasure or pain; and would always generate such convictions, were it unopposed.
26 INTRODUCTION.
As however there is a perpetual conflict amongst the feelings — some of them heing in antagonism throughout life — there results a proportionate incongruity in the beUefs — a similar conflict amongst these also — a parallel antagonism. So that it is only where a desire is very predominant, or where no adverse desire exists, that this connection between the instincts and the opinions they dictate, becomes distinctly visible.
Apphed to the elucidation of the case in hand, these facts explain how from au impulse to behave in the way we caU equitable, there will arise a perception that such behaviour is proper — a conviction that it is good. This instinct or senti- ment, being gratified by a just action, and distressed by an unjust action, produces in us an approbation of the one, and a disgust towards the other; and these readily beget beliefs that the one is virtuous, and the other vicious. Or, refen-ing again to the illustration, we may say that as the desire to ac- cumulate property is accompanied by a sense of the value of property, so is the desire to act fairly, accompanied by a sense of what is fair. And thus, hmiting the word sense to the ex- pression of this fact, there is nothing wrong in attributing motor and percipient functions to the same agent.
It will perhaps be needful here to meet the objection, that whereas according to the foregoing statement each feehng tends to generate notions of the rightness or wrongness of the actions towards which it is related; and whereas moraUty should de- termine what is correct in all departments of conduct, it is im- proper to confine the term "moral sense" to that which can afibrd directions in only one department. Tliis is quite true. Nevertheless, seeing that our behaviour towards each other is the most important part of our behaviour, and that in which we are most prone to err; seeing also that this same faculty is so purely and immediately moral in its purpose; and seeing further, as we shall shortly do, that its dictates are the only ones capable of reduction to an exact form, we may with some show of reason continue to employ that term, with this re- stricted meaning.
INTRODDCTION. 27 INTRODDCTION. 27 Assuming the existence in man of such a faculty as this for prompting him to right dealings with his fellows, and as- suming that it generates certain intuitions" respecting those dealings, it seems reasonable enough to seek in such intuitions the elements of a moral code. Attempts to construct a code so founded have from time to time been made. They have resulted in systems based by Shaftesbury and Hutchinson on " Moral Sense," by Eeid and Beattie on " Common Sense," by Price on " Understanding," by Clarke on " Fitness of Things," by Granville Sharpe on " Natural Equity," by others on " Eule of Eight," " Natural Justice," " Law of Nature," " Law of Eeason," " Eight Eeason," &c. Unsuccessful as these writers have been in the endeavour to develope a philoso- phical morahty, all of them, if the foregoing reasoning be cor- rect, have consulted a trae oracle. Though they have failed to systematize its utterances, they have acted wisely in trying to do this. An analysis of right and wrong so made, is not in- deed the profoundest and ultimate one; but, as we shall by-and- by see, it is perfectly in harmony with that in its initial princi- ple, and coincident with it in its results.
Against codes thus derived, it is indeed alleged, that they are necessarily worthless because unstable in their premises. " If," say the objectors, " this ' moral sense,' to which all these writers directly or indirectly appeal, possesses no fixity, gives no uniform response, says one thing in Europe, and another in Asia — originates different notions of duty in each age, each race, each individual, how can it afford a safe foundation for a sys- tematic morality? What can be more absurd than to seek a definite rule of right, in the answers of so uncertain an au- thority? " Even granting that there is no escape from this difficulty — even supposing no method to exist, by which from this source, ^ As here used, this word is of course to be understood in a popular, and not in a metaphysical sense.
28 INTRODUCTION.
a moral philosopliy can be drawn free from so fatal an imper- fection, there still results merely that same dilemma, in -n-hich every other proposed scheme is involved. If such a guide is unfit, because its dictates are variable, then must Expe- diency also be rejected for the same reason. If Bentham is right in condemning Moral Sense, as an "anarchical and capricious principle, founded solely upon internal and peculiar feelings," then is liis own maxim doubly fallacious. Is not the idea, " greatest happiness," a capricious one? Is not that also " founded solely upon internal and peculiar feelings? " (See page 3.) And even were the idea "greatest happiness" alike in all, would not his principle be still " anarchical," in virtue of the infinite disagreement as to the means of realizing this "greatest happiness?" All utilitarian philosophies are in fact liable to tliis charge of indefiniteness, for there ever recurs the same unsettled question — what is utility? — a ques- tion which, as every newspaper shows us, gives rise to endless disputes, both as to the goodness of each desired end, and the efficiency of every proposed means. At the worst therefore, in so fai^as want of scientific precision is concerned, a philosophy founded on!Moral Sense, simply stands in the same category with all other known systems.
But happily there is an alternative. The force of the objec- tion above set forth may be fully admitted, without in any de- gree invahdating the theory. Notwithstanding appearances to the contrary, it is still possible to construct upon tliis basis, a purely synthetic morality proof against all such criticism.
The error pointed out is not one of doctrine, but of applica- tion. Those who committed it did not start from a -wrong principle, but rather missed the right way fi-om that principle to the sought-for conclusions. It was not in the oracle to which they appealed, but in their method of interpretation, that the writere of the Shaftesbury school erred. Confound- INTRODUCTION. 29 ing the functions of feeling and reason, they required a senti- ment to do that, which should have heen left to the intellect. They were right in helieving that there exists some governing instinct generating in us an approval of certain actions we call good, and a repugnance to certain others we call had. But they were not right in assuming such instinct to be capable of intuitively solving every ethical problem submitted to it. To suppose this, was to suppose that moral sense could supply the place of logic.
For the better explanation of this point, let us take an analogy from mathematics, or rather some branch of it, as geo^ metry. The human mind possesses a faculty that takes cog- nizance of measurable quantity, which faculty, to carry out the analogy, let us term a geometric sense. By the help of this we estimate the linear dimensions, surfaces, and bulks of sur- rounding objects, and form ideas of their relationship to each other. But in the endeavour to reduce the knowledge thus obtained to a scientific form, we find that no rehance can be placed on the unaided decisions of tliis geometric sense, in consequence of the conflicting judgments it makes in different persons. On comparing notes, however, we discover that there are certain simple propositions upon which we aU think aHke, such as " Things which are equal to the same thing are equal to one another;" "The whole is greater than its part;" and agreeing upon these axioms as we call them — these funda- mental truths recognised by our geometric sense, we find it becomes possible by successive deductions to settle all disputed points, and to solve with certainty, problems of the most com- plicated nature '. Now if, instead of adopting this method, geo- metricians had persisted in determining all questions concerning lines, angles, squares, circles, and the like, by the geometric sense — if they had tried to discover whether the three angles of * Whether we adopt the views of Locke or of Eant as to the ultimate nature ef what is here, for analogy's sake, called geometric sense, does not affect the ques- tion. However originated, the fundamental perceptions attaching to it form the undecomposable basis of exact science. And this is all that is now assumed.
30 INTRODUCTION.
a triangle were, or were not, equal to two right angles, and whether the areas of similar polygons were, or were not, in the duplicate ratio of their homologous sides, by an effort of simple perception, they would have made just the same mistake that moralists make, who try to solve all the problems of morality by the moral sense.
The reader will at once perceive the conclusion towards which this analogy points; namely, that the perception of the primary laws of quantity bears the same relationship to mathematics, that this instinct of right bears to a moral sys- tem; and that as it is the office of the geometric sense to ori- ginate a geometric axiom, from which reason may deduce a scientific geometry, so it is the office of the moral sense to originate a moral axiom, from which reason may develope a systematic moraUty.
And, varying the illustration, it may be further remarked that just as erroneous notions in mechanics, — for instance, that large bodies fall faster than small ones^; that water rises in a pump by suction; that perpetual motion is possible, to- gether with the many other mistaken opinions, formed by unaided mechanical sense, — are set aside by the conclusions synthetically deduced from those primary laws of matter which the mechanical sense recognises; so may we expect the mul- titudes of conflicting behefs about human duty dictated by unaided moral sense, to disappear before the deductions scien- tifically drawn from some primary law of man which the moral sense recognises.
On reviewing the claims of the Moral Sense doctrine, it appears that there is a •priori reason for expecting the first principle of social morality to originate in some feeling, power, or faculty of the individual. Quite in harmony with this be- lief, is the inference that as desire is found to be the incentive * A doctrine held by Aristotle and his followera.
INTRODUCTION. 81 INTRODUCTION. 81 to action where motives are readily analyzable, it is protably the uniyersal incentive; and that the conduct we call moral is determined by it as well as other conduct. Moreover we find that even the great maxim of the expediency-philosophy presupposes some tendency in man towards right relationship with his fellow, and some correlative perception of what that right relationship consists in. There are sundry phenomena of social Ufe, both past and present, that well illustrate the in- fluence of this supposed moral sense, and which are not readily expUcable upon any other hypothesis. Assuming the existence of such a faculty, there appears reason to think that its moni- tions afford a proper basis for a systematic moraUty; and to the demurrer that their variabihty ruifits them for this purpose, it is replied that, to say the least, the foundations of all other systems are equally open to the same objection. Finally, how- ever, we discover that this dif&culty is apparent only, and not real: for that whilst the decisions of this moral sense upon the complex cases referred to it are inaccurate and often con- tradictory, it may still be capable of generating a true funda- mental intuition, which can be logically unfolded into a scien- tific moraUty.
LEMMA I.
LEMMA I.
It seems at first sight a very rational way of testing any proposed rule of conduct to ask — How will it work? Taking men as we know them, and institutions as they are, what will result from carrying such a theory into practice? This very common-sense style of inquiry is that by which most opinions on morals and politics are formed. People consider of any system, whether it seems feasible, whether it will square with this or the other social arrangement, whether it fits what they see of human nature. They have got certain notions of what 32 INTRODUCTION man is, and what society must le; and their verdict on any ethical doctrine depends upon its accordance or discordance ■with these.
Such a mode of settling moral questions, is clearly open to aU the criticisms so fatal to the expediency-philosophy. In- capacity for guiding ourselves in detail hy making estimates of consequences, implies incapacity for judging of fii'st principles by that method. But passing over this, there is yet another reason for rejecting an iuquiry so pursued as worthless; namely, that it assumes the chai-acter of manMnd to he constant. If moral systems are adopted or condemned, because of their con- sistency or inconsistency, with what we know of men and things, then it is taken for granted that men and things will ever be as they are. It would be absurd to measure with a variable standard. If existing humanity is the gauge by which truth must be determined, then must that gauge — existing humanity — be fixed.
Now that it is not fixed, might have been thought suffi- ciently obvious without any proving — so obvious indeed as to make proof look ridiculous. But, unfortunately, those whose prejudices make them think otherwise are too numerous to be passed by. Their scepticism needs to be met by facts; and, wearisome though it may be to the philosophic reader, there is no alternative but to go into these.
And first, let us pause a moment to consider the antecedent improbability of this alleged constancy in human natm-e. It is a trite enough remark that change is the law of all things: true equally of a single object, and of the universe. Nature in its infinite complexity is ever growing to a new development. Jilach successive result becomes the parent of an additional in- fluence, destined in some degree to modify all future results. No fresh tlu-ead enters into the texture of that endless web, woven in " the roaring loom of Time" but what more or less INTRODUCTION. 33 alters tlie pattern. It has been so from tlie beginning. As we turn over the leaves of the earth's primeval history — as we intei-pret the hieroglyphics in which are recorded the events of the unknown past, we find this same ever-beginning, never- ceasing change. We see it alike in the organic and the inor- ganic—in the decompositions and recombinations of matter, and in the constantly-varying forms of animal and vegetable life. Old formations are worn down; new ones are deposited. Forests and bogs become coal basins; and the now igneous rock was once sedimentary. With an altering atmosphere, and a decreasing temperature, land and sea perpetually bring forth fresh races of insects, plants, and animals. All things are metamorphosed; infusorial shells into chalk and flint, sand into stone, stone into gravel. Strata get contorted; seas fill up; lands are alternately upheaved and sunk. Where once rolled a fathomless ocean, now tower the snow-covered peaks of a wide-spread, richly-clothed country, teeming with exist- ence; and where a vast continent once stretched, there re- main but a few lonely coral islets to mark the graves of its submerged mountains. Thus also is it with systems, as well as with worlds. Orbits vary in their forms, axes in their inclinations, suns in their brightness. Fixed only in name, the stars are incessantly changing their relationships to each other. New ones from time to time suddenly appear, increase and wane; whilst the members of each nebula — suns, planets, and their satellites, sweep for ever onwards into unexplored infinity. Strange indeed would it be, if, in the midst of this universal mutation, man alone were constant, unchangeable. But it is not so. He also obeys the law of indefinite variation. His circumstances are ever altering; and he is ever adapting him- self to them. Between the naked houseless savage, and the Shakspeares and Newtons of a civilized state, lie unnumbered degrees of difference. The contrasts of races in form, colour, and feature, are not greater than the contrasts in their moral and intellectual qualities. That superiority of sight which enables a Bushman to see further with the naked eye than a 31 INTRODUCTION.
European with a telescope, is fully paralleled by the European's more perfect intellectual vision. The Calmuck in dehcacy of smell, and the red Indian in acuteness of hearing, do not excel the wliite man more than the white man excels them in moral susceptihility. Every age, every nation, every climate, ex- hibits a modified form of humanity; and in all times, and amongst all peoples, a greater or less amount of change is going on.
There cannot indeed be a more astounding instance of the tenacity with which men will cling to an opinion in spite of an overwhelming mass of adverse evidence, than is shown in this prevalent behef that human nature is uniform. One would have thought it impossible to use.eyes or ears without learning that mankind vary indefinitely, in instincts, in morals, in opinions, in tastes, in rationality, in everj'thing. Even a stroll through the nearest museum would show that some law of modification was at work. Mark the grotesque frescos of the Egyptians, or the shadowless drawings of the Chinese. Does the contrast between these and the works of European artists indicate no difference in the perceptive powers of the races? Compare the sculptures of Athens with those of Hindostan or Mexico. Is not a greater sense of beauty imphed by the one than the others? But, passing to the more significant facts suppUed by historians and travellers, what are we to tliink on reading that the Greeks and Romans had a deity to sanction and patronise every conceivable iniquity? or when we hear of Polynesian tribes who believe that their gods feed upon the souls of the departed? Surely the characters indicated bj' such conceptions of Divinity differ somewhat from ours! Surely too we may claim some essential superiority over those Tartars who leave infirm parents to die of hunger in the desert; and over those Feejee islanders, amongst whom members of the same family have to keep watch against each other's treachery. It is not the custom of an Englishman to dine, hke a Canib, upon a roasted captive; or even as the Abyssinian, on a quiver- ing shoe from the haunch of a hve ox. Neither does he.
INTRODUCTION. 36 like a red Indian, delight in the writhing of a victim at the stake; nor, like a Hindoo, burn his wife that her spirit may haunt his enemy.
What one respect is there in which it can be asserted that human nature is always the same? Is it in rationality? Why, Anaxagoras had to fly his country for having blasphemously asserted that the sun was not the chariot of the deity Helios: whilst amongst ourselves a child often puzzles its seniors by the question — Who made God? Is it in justice? No: badly as the modems have treated slaves, they have never, hke the Spartans, encouraged their young warriors to waylay and as- sassinate helots for practice. Is it in honesty? If so, how come we to read that " piracy was the exercise, the trade, the glory, and the virtue of the Scandinavian youth; " whilst amongst ourselves privateering, even in time of war, is disap- proved? Is it in want of mercy? Not so: for much as Austrian butcheries have lately disgraced Europe, they have not paralleled the doings of Gengis Khan, who signalized his first victory by casting seventy prisoners into cauldrons of boiling water; or of Timour, who massacred 100,000 Indian prisoners, and erected a pyramid of 90,000 human heads on the smoking ruins of Bagdad; or of Attila, who totally extirpated and erased seventy cities. Is it in vindictiveness? Why no: for whilst we are told of the Begum Sumroo, that having ordered one of her dancing girls to be bricked up in a vault, she had her bed placed over it, that she might listen to her victim's dying moans; we find our own Queen requesting, much to her credit, that the man who fired at her should not be flogged. Where now is the sameness? It is not in actions as we see. Is it then in manners and opinions? Certainly not. Society in our day would hardly receive a lady or gentle- man known to have poisoned an enemy: in Italy, however, there was a time when disgrace did not attach to such. No family would now follow the example of the Visconti, and choose the viper for an armorial bearing. Nor could we in the nineteenth century, find a match to that German captain of 36 INTRODUCTION'.
mercenaries, who in silver letters labelled himself — " Duke Werner, Lord of the great Company; the enemy of mercy, of pity, and of God."
But why go abroad for illustrations of human variability? have we not plenty at home? In those early days -when it was thought " quite sufficient for noblemen to winde their horn, and carry their hawke fair, and leave study and learning to the children of mean people"— in those days when men secured themselves inside thick walls and behind deep moats, and when women wore daggers, character was not just what we now find it. Whilst all nominally held the creed professed by ourselves, the Borderer was most zealous at his prayers when going on a foray; saints' names were battle cries; bishops led on their retainers to fight; and the highest piety was in the slaying of Saracens. Must not our natures have changed somewhat, when we translate this same religion into peace, into philanthropic effort of all kinds, into missionary enterprise, into advocacy of temperance, into inquiries about " labour and the poor"? Does the agitation for the abolition of death punishment indi- cate no revolution in men's feelings since the days when Cromwell's body was exhumed, and his head stuck on Temple Bar — the days when criminals.were drawn and quartered as well as hung — the days when there were murmurs "because Stafford was suffered to die without seeing his bowels burned before his face" — the days when creaking gibbets were scattered over the country — the days when church- doors were covered with the skins of men who had committed sacrilege? And when we read that Sir John Hawkins, in honour of his having been the first to commence the slave-trade, received the addition to his coat of arms of " a demi-moor proper bound with a cord," does it not seem that the national character has improved between his times and ours, when, out of sympathy for the negroes, 300,000 persons pledged themselves to abstain from all West-India produce?
But really it is absurd to argue the matter. The very assertors of this fi.xedness of human nature tacitly disown their INTRODUCTION. 37 belief in it. They constantly stultify themselves by remarks on differences of national character, on peculiarities in their friends' dispositions, and on their own special tastes and feelings. Admissions thus accidentally made quite invalidate their dogma. Nay, not even these are needed. No comparison between the habits of separate races — between man as he is and as he was — between the tempers and talents of individuals — are neces- sary for this. To the man of any insight, the mere fact that he himself changes with circumstances, from day to day, and from year to year, in sentiments, capacities, and desires, is sufficient to show that humanity is indefinitely variable.
And if humanity is indefinitely variable, it cannot be used as a gauge for testing moral truth. When we see that institutions impracticable in one age have flourished in a subsequent one; and that what were once salutary laws and customs have become repugnant; we may shrewdly suspect that the hke changes will take place in future. That incongruity with the state of men and things which at present gives to certain proposed principles an appearance of impracticability, may, in a coming age, no longer exist; and those principles that now seem so well adapted to our social condition, may then no longer harmonise with it. Unless, therefore, we assume that human nature, although hitherto variable, will henceforth re- main fixed — a somewhat unwarrantable assumption — we must not allow the disagreement between any system of ethics and the present state of mankind, to be taken as evidence against that system.