Moral Science - Alexander Bain (free ereaders .TXT) 📗
- Author: Alexander Bain
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are so constituted. Thus, without using the same term, he sides with the doctrine of the Innate Moral Sense. He illustrates it by another elementary fact of the mind, involved in the conception of cause and effect on his theory of that relation--the belief that the future will resemble the past. Excepting a teleogical reference to the Supreme Benevolence of the Deity, he admits no farther search into the nature of the moral sentiment.
He adduces, as another illustration, what he deems the kindred emotion of Beauty. Our feeling of beauty is not the mere perception of forms and colours, or the discovery of the uses of certain combinations of forms; it is an emotion arising from these, indeed, bat distinct from them. Our feeling of moral excellence, in like manner, is not the mere perception of different actions, or the discovery of the physical good that these may produce; it is an emotion _sui generis_, superadded to them.
He adverts, in a strain of eloquent indignation, to the objection grounded on differences of men's moral judgment. There are philosophers, he exclaims, 'that can turn away from the conspiring chorus of the millions of mankind, in favour of the great truths of morals, to seek in some savage island, a few indistinct murmurs that may seem to be discordant with the total harmony of mankind.' He goes on to remark, however, that in our zeal for the immutability of moral distinctions, we may weaken the case by contending for too much; and proposes to consider the species of accordance that may be safely argued for.
He begins by purging away the realistic notion of Virtue, considered as a self-existing entity. He defines it--a term expressing the relation of certain actions to certain emotions in the minds contemplating them; its universality is merely co-extensive with these minds. He then concedes that all mankind do not, at every moment, feel precisely the same emotions in contemplating the same actions, and sets forth the limitations as follows;--
First, In moments of violent passion, the mind is incapacitated for perceiving moral differences; we must, in such cases appeal, as it were, from Philip drunk to Philip sober.
Secondly, Still more important is the limitation arising from the complexity of many actions. Where good and evil results are so blended that we cannot easily assign the preponderance, different men may form different conclusions. Partiality of views may arise from this cause, not merely in individuals, but in whole nations. The legal permission of theft in Sparta is a case in point. Theft, as theft, and without relation to the political object of inuring a warlike people, would have been condemned in Sparta, as well as with us. [The retort of Locke is not out of place here; an innate moral sentiment that permits a fundamental virtue to be set aside on the ground of mere state convenience, is of very little value.] He then goes on to ask whether men, in approving these exceptions to morality, approve them because they are immoral? [The opponents of a moral sense do not contend for an _immoral_ sense.] Suicide is not commended because it deprives society of useful members, and gives sorrow to relations and friends; the exposure of infants is not justified on the plea of adding to human suffering.
Again, the differences of cookery among nations are much wider than the differences of moral sentiment; and yet no one denies a fundamental susceptibility to sweet and bitter. It is not contended that we come into the world with a knowledge of actions, but that we have certain susceptibilities of emotion, in consequence of which, it is impossible for us, in after life, unless from counteracting circumstances, to be pleased with the contemplation of certain actions, and disgusted with certain other actions. When the doctrine is thus stated, Paley's objection, that we should also receive from nature the notions of the actions themselves, falls to the ground. As well might we require an instinctive notion of all possible numbers, to bear out our instinctive sense of proportion.
A third limitation must be added, the influence of the principle of Association. One way that this operates is to transfer, to a whole class of actions, the feelings peculiar to certain marked individuals. Thus, in a civilized country, where property is largely possessed, and under complicated tenures, we become very sensitive to its violation, and acquire a proportionably intense sentiment of Justice. Again, association operates in modifying our approval and disapproval of actions according to their attendant circumstances; as when we extenuate misconduct in a beloved person.
The author contends that, notwithstanding these limitations, we still leave unimpaired the approbation of unmixed good as good, and the disapprobation of unmixed evil as evil. His further remarks, however, are mainly eloquent declamation on the universality of moral distinctions.
He proceeds to criticise the moral systems from Hobbes downwards. His remarks (Lecture 76) on the province of Reason in Morality, with reference to the systems of Clarke and Wollaston, contain the gist of the matter well expressed.
He next considers the theory of Utility. That Utility bears a certain relation to Virtue is unquestionable. Benevolence means good to others, and virtue is of course made up, in great part, of this. But then, if Utility is held to be the _measure_ of virtue, standing in exact proportion to it, the proposition is very far from true; it is only a small portion of virtuous actions wherein the measure holds.
He does not doubt that virtuous actions do all tend, in a greater or less degree, to the advantage of the world. But he considers the question to be, whether what we have _alone in view_, in approving certain actions, be the amount of utility that they bring; whether we have no other reason for commending a man than for praising a chest of drawers.
Consider this question first from the point of view of the agent. Does the mother, in watching her sick infant, think of the good of mankind at that moment? Is the pity called forth by misery a sentiment of the general good? Look at it again from the point of view of the spectator. Is his admiration of a steam-engine, and of an heroic human action, the same sentiment? Why do we not worship the earth, the source of all our utilities? The ancient worshippers of nature always gave it a soul in the first instance.
When the supporter of Utility arbitrarily confines his principles to the actions of living beings, he concedes the point in dispute; he admits an approvableness peculiar to _living and voluntary agents_, a capacity of exciting moral emotions not commensurate with any utility. Hume says, that the sentiments of utility connected with human beings are mixed with affection, esteem, and approbation, which do not attach to the utility of inanimate things. Brown replies, that these are the very sentiments to be accounted for, the moral part of the case.
But another contrast may be made; namely, between the utility of virtue and the utility of talent or genius, which we view with very different and unequal sentiments; the inventors of the printing press do not rouse the same emotions as the charities of the Man of Ross.
Still, he contends, like the other supporters of innate moral distinctions, for a pre-established harmony between the two attributes. Utility and virtue are so intimately related, that there is perhaps no action generally felt by us as virtuous, but what is generally beneficial. But this is only discovered by reflecting men; it never enters the mind of the unthinking multitude. Nay, more, it is only the Divine Being that can fully master this relationship, or so prescribe our duties that they shall ultimately coincide with the general happiness.
He allows that the immediate object of the _legislator_ is the general good; but then his relationship is to the community as a whole, and not to any particular individual.
He admits, farther, that the good of the world at large, if not the _only_ moral object, _is_ a moral object, in common with the good of parents, friends, and others related to us in private life. Farther, it may be requisite for the moralist to correct our moral sentiments by requiring greater attention to public, and less to private, good; but this does not alter the nature of our moral feelings; it merely presents new objects to our _moral discrimination_. It gives an exercise to our reason in disentangling the complicated results of our actions.
He makes it also an objection to Utility, that it does not explain _why_ we feel approbation of the useful, and disapprobation of the hurtful; forgetting that Benevolence is an admitted fact of our constitution, and may fairly be assigned by the moralist as the source of the moral sentiment.
His next remarks are on the Selfish Systems, his reply to which is the assertion of disinterested Affections. He distinguishes two modes of assigning self-interest as the sole motive of virtuous conduct. First, it may be said that in every so-called virtuous action, we see some good to self, near or remote. Secondly, it may be maintained that we become at last disinterested by the associations of our own interest.
He calls in question this alleged process of association. Because a man's own cane is interesting to him, it does not follow that every other man's cane is interesting. [He here commits a mistake of fact; other men's walking canes are interesting to the interested owner of a cane. It may not follow that this interest is enough to determine self-sacrifice.]
It will be inferred that Brown contends warmly for the existence of Disinterested Affection, not merely as a present, but as a primitive, fact of our constitution. He does not always keep this distinct from the Moral Sentiment; he, in fact, mixes the two sentiments together in his language, a thing almost inevitable, but yet inconsistent with the advocacy of a distinct moral sentiment.
He includes among the Selfish Systems the Ethical Theory of Paley, which he reprobates in both its leading points--everlasting happiness as the motive, and the will of God as the rule. On the one point, this theory is liable to all the objections against a purely selfish system; and, on the other point, he makes the usual replies to the founding of morality on the absolute will of the Deity.
Brown next criticises the system of Adam Smith. Admitting that we have the sympathetic feeling that Smith proceeds upon, he questions its adequacy to constitute the moral sentiment, on the ground that it is not a perpetual accompaniment of our actions. There must be a certain _vividness_ of feeling or of the display of feeling, or at least a sufficient cause of vivid feeling, to call the sympathy into action. In the numerous petty actions of life, there is an absence of any marked sympathy.
But the essential error of Smith's system is, that it assumes the very moral feelings that it is meant to explain. If there were no antecedent moral feelings, sympathy could not afford them; it is only a mirror to reflect what is already in existence. The feelings that we sympathize with, are themselves moral feelings already; if it were not so, the reflexion of them from a thousand breasts would not give them a moral nature.
Brown thinks that Adam Smith was to some extent misled by an ambiguity in the word sympathy; a word applied not merely to the participation of other men's feelings, but to the further and distinct fact of the _approbation_ of those feeling's.
Although siding in the main with Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, Brown objects to their designation Moral Sense, as expressing the innate power of moral approbation. If 'Sense' be
He adduces, as another illustration, what he deems the kindred emotion of Beauty. Our feeling of beauty is not the mere perception of forms and colours, or the discovery of the uses of certain combinations of forms; it is an emotion arising from these, indeed, bat distinct from them. Our feeling of moral excellence, in like manner, is not the mere perception of different actions, or the discovery of the physical good that these may produce; it is an emotion _sui generis_, superadded to them.
He adverts, in a strain of eloquent indignation, to the objection grounded on differences of men's moral judgment. There are philosophers, he exclaims, 'that can turn away from the conspiring chorus of the millions of mankind, in favour of the great truths of morals, to seek in some savage island, a few indistinct murmurs that may seem to be discordant with the total harmony of mankind.' He goes on to remark, however, that in our zeal for the immutability of moral distinctions, we may weaken the case by contending for too much; and proposes to consider the species of accordance that may be safely argued for.
He begins by purging away the realistic notion of Virtue, considered as a self-existing entity. He defines it--a term expressing the relation of certain actions to certain emotions in the minds contemplating them; its universality is merely co-extensive with these minds. He then concedes that all mankind do not, at every moment, feel precisely the same emotions in contemplating the same actions, and sets forth the limitations as follows;--
First, In moments of violent passion, the mind is incapacitated for perceiving moral differences; we must, in such cases appeal, as it were, from Philip drunk to Philip sober.
Secondly, Still more important is the limitation arising from the complexity of many actions. Where good and evil results are so blended that we cannot easily assign the preponderance, different men may form different conclusions. Partiality of views may arise from this cause, not merely in individuals, but in whole nations. The legal permission of theft in Sparta is a case in point. Theft, as theft, and without relation to the political object of inuring a warlike people, would have been condemned in Sparta, as well as with us. [The retort of Locke is not out of place here; an innate moral sentiment that permits a fundamental virtue to be set aside on the ground of mere state convenience, is of very little value.] He then goes on to ask whether men, in approving these exceptions to morality, approve them because they are immoral? [The opponents of a moral sense do not contend for an _immoral_ sense.] Suicide is not commended because it deprives society of useful members, and gives sorrow to relations and friends; the exposure of infants is not justified on the plea of adding to human suffering.
Again, the differences of cookery among nations are much wider than the differences of moral sentiment; and yet no one denies a fundamental susceptibility to sweet and bitter. It is not contended that we come into the world with a knowledge of actions, but that we have certain susceptibilities of emotion, in consequence of which, it is impossible for us, in after life, unless from counteracting circumstances, to be pleased with the contemplation of certain actions, and disgusted with certain other actions. When the doctrine is thus stated, Paley's objection, that we should also receive from nature the notions of the actions themselves, falls to the ground. As well might we require an instinctive notion of all possible numbers, to bear out our instinctive sense of proportion.
A third limitation must be added, the influence of the principle of Association. One way that this operates is to transfer, to a whole class of actions, the feelings peculiar to certain marked individuals. Thus, in a civilized country, where property is largely possessed, and under complicated tenures, we become very sensitive to its violation, and acquire a proportionably intense sentiment of Justice. Again, association operates in modifying our approval and disapproval of actions according to their attendant circumstances; as when we extenuate misconduct in a beloved person.
The author contends that, notwithstanding these limitations, we still leave unimpaired the approbation of unmixed good as good, and the disapprobation of unmixed evil as evil. His further remarks, however, are mainly eloquent declamation on the universality of moral distinctions.
He proceeds to criticise the moral systems from Hobbes downwards. His remarks (Lecture 76) on the province of Reason in Morality, with reference to the systems of Clarke and Wollaston, contain the gist of the matter well expressed.
He next considers the theory of Utility. That Utility bears a certain relation to Virtue is unquestionable. Benevolence means good to others, and virtue is of course made up, in great part, of this. But then, if Utility is held to be the _measure_ of virtue, standing in exact proportion to it, the proposition is very far from true; it is only a small portion of virtuous actions wherein the measure holds.
He does not doubt that virtuous actions do all tend, in a greater or less degree, to the advantage of the world. But he considers the question to be, whether what we have _alone in view_, in approving certain actions, be the amount of utility that they bring; whether we have no other reason for commending a man than for praising a chest of drawers.
Consider this question first from the point of view of the agent. Does the mother, in watching her sick infant, think of the good of mankind at that moment? Is the pity called forth by misery a sentiment of the general good? Look at it again from the point of view of the spectator. Is his admiration of a steam-engine, and of an heroic human action, the same sentiment? Why do we not worship the earth, the source of all our utilities? The ancient worshippers of nature always gave it a soul in the first instance.
When the supporter of Utility arbitrarily confines his principles to the actions of living beings, he concedes the point in dispute; he admits an approvableness peculiar to _living and voluntary agents_, a capacity of exciting moral emotions not commensurate with any utility. Hume says, that the sentiments of utility connected with human beings are mixed with affection, esteem, and approbation, which do not attach to the utility of inanimate things. Brown replies, that these are the very sentiments to be accounted for, the moral part of the case.
But another contrast may be made; namely, between the utility of virtue and the utility of talent or genius, which we view with very different and unequal sentiments; the inventors of the printing press do not rouse the same emotions as the charities of the Man of Ross.
Still, he contends, like the other supporters of innate moral distinctions, for a pre-established harmony between the two attributes. Utility and virtue are so intimately related, that there is perhaps no action generally felt by us as virtuous, but what is generally beneficial. But this is only discovered by reflecting men; it never enters the mind of the unthinking multitude. Nay, more, it is only the Divine Being that can fully master this relationship, or so prescribe our duties that they shall ultimately coincide with the general happiness.
He allows that the immediate object of the _legislator_ is the general good; but then his relationship is to the community as a whole, and not to any particular individual.
He admits, farther, that the good of the world at large, if not the _only_ moral object, _is_ a moral object, in common with the good of parents, friends, and others related to us in private life. Farther, it may be requisite for the moralist to correct our moral sentiments by requiring greater attention to public, and less to private, good; but this does not alter the nature of our moral feelings; it merely presents new objects to our _moral discrimination_. It gives an exercise to our reason in disentangling the complicated results of our actions.
He makes it also an objection to Utility, that it does not explain _why_ we feel approbation of the useful, and disapprobation of the hurtful; forgetting that Benevolence is an admitted fact of our constitution, and may fairly be assigned by the moralist as the source of the moral sentiment.
His next remarks are on the Selfish Systems, his reply to which is the assertion of disinterested Affections. He distinguishes two modes of assigning self-interest as the sole motive of virtuous conduct. First, it may be said that in every so-called virtuous action, we see some good to self, near or remote. Secondly, it may be maintained that we become at last disinterested by the associations of our own interest.
He calls in question this alleged process of association. Because a man's own cane is interesting to him, it does not follow that every other man's cane is interesting. [He here commits a mistake of fact; other men's walking canes are interesting to the interested owner of a cane. It may not follow that this interest is enough to determine self-sacrifice.]
It will be inferred that Brown contends warmly for the existence of Disinterested Affection, not merely as a present, but as a primitive, fact of our constitution. He does not always keep this distinct from the Moral Sentiment; he, in fact, mixes the two sentiments together in his language, a thing almost inevitable, but yet inconsistent with the advocacy of a distinct moral sentiment.
He includes among the Selfish Systems the Ethical Theory of Paley, which he reprobates in both its leading points--everlasting happiness as the motive, and the will of God as the rule. On the one point, this theory is liable to all the objections against a purely selfish system; and, on the other point, he makes the usual replies to the founding of morality on the absolute will of the Deity.
Brown next criticises the system of Adam Smith. Admitting that we have the sympathetic feeling that Smith proceeds upon, he questions its adequacy to constitute the moral sentiment, on the ground that it is not a perpetual accompaniment of our actions. There must be a certain _vividness_ of feeling or of the display of feeling, or at least a sufficient cause of vivid feeling, to call the sympathy into action. In the numerous petty actions of life, there is an absence of any marked sympathy.
But the essential error of Smith's system is, that it assumes the very moral feelings that it is meant to explain. If there were no antecedent moral feelings, sympathy could not afford them; it is only a mirror to reflect what is already in existence. The feelings that we sympathize with, are themselves moral feelings already; if it were not so, the reflexion of them from a thousand breasts would not give them a moral nature.
Brown thinks that Adam Smith was to some extent misled by an ambiguity in the word sympathy; a word applied not merely to the participation of other men's feelings, but to the further and distinct fact of the _approbation_ of those feeling's.
Although siding in the main with Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, Brown objects to their designation Moral Sense, as expressing the innate power of moral approbation. If 'Sense' be
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