The Philosophy of the Moral Feelings Part 5

A similar relation exists, as was formerly stated, between all our moral emotions, and processes which are felt to be entirely voluntary. These emotions are, properly speaking, not the objects of volition, nor do they arise directly at our bidding; but, according to the const.i.tution of the mind, they are the natural or established result of certain intellectual processes, and, in some sense, even of bodily action, both of which are entirely voluntary. The emotions of compa.s.sion and benevolence, for example, are the natural result of the sight or even the description of scenes of distress; and the primary steps in this process are entirely within our power to perform, if we will. We can visit the afflicted family, listen to their tale of distress, and consider their circ.u.mstances,--that is, give our attention to them in such a manner that the natural and proper effect may be produced upon our moral feelings. We can give the same kind of attention, and with a similar result, to a case which is only described to us by another; or we may neglect all this mental process. Engrossed with the business or the frivolities of life, we may keep ourselves at a distance from the persons and the scenes that might operate in this manner on our moral feelings;--we may refuse to listen to the tale of sorrow, or, if compelled to hear it, we may give it little attention and no consideration. The moral feeling does not follow, and this course, after a certain repet.i.tion, terminates in confirmed and barren selfishness. We see many instances in which we distinctly recognise this course of mental or moral sequence. If, in regard to a particular case of distress, for example, we have come to a deliberate conviction of the worthlessness of the individual, and have determined to withhold our aid, we refuse to see him, and we decline hearing from another any thing more of his history;--we say, we have made up our mind not to allow our compa.s.sion to be any more worked upon in his favour. We thus recognise the natural relation between the sight or even the description of distress, and the production of certain feelings in ourselves:--and we recognise also the legitimate means for preventing this influence in certain cases, in which, by a deliberate act of judgment, we have determined against having these feelings excited. If, notwithstanding this determination, we happen to be brought within the influence of the distress which we wished to avoid, we consider this as a sufficient ground for acting, in the instance, against our sober judgment. We had determined against it, we say, but what can you do when you see people starving. We thus recognise as legitimate that process by which, in certain cases, we keep ourselves beyond this influence; but we attach no feeling of approbation to the moral condition of him who, being subjected to the influence, can resist it; that is, who can really come into contact with distress, and shut his heart against it. And even with regard to the course which we here recognise as legitimate, much caution is required, before we allow a process of the judgment to interfere with the natural and healthy course of the moral feelings. If the interference arises, not from a sound process of the understanding, but from a course in which selfishness bears a considerable part, an injurious influence upon the moral condition of the mind is the necessary consequence. We thus perceive that, in the chain of sequences relating to the benevolent feelings, there are three distinct steps,--two of which are entirely under the control of the will. A man has it entirely in his power to place himself in contact with objects of distress, and to follow out the call of duty in considering their circ.u.mstances, and entering into their feelings. The natural result is a train of emotions which arise in his own mind, prompting him to a particular line of conduct. To act upon these emotions is again under the power of his will; and if the whole of this chain of sequences be duly followed, the result is a sound condition of this part of the moral economy. If either of the voluntary steps be neglected or violated, the mental harmony is lost, and a habit is formed of unfeeling selfishness.

The principle, which has thus been ill.u.s.trated by the benevolent affections, is equally true of our other moral emotions. These emotions are closely connected with certain truths, which are calculated to give use to them, according to the const.i.tution of our moral economy. Now, the careful acquisition of the knowledge of these truths, and a serious direction of the attention to their tendencies, are intellectual processes which are as much under the power of our will, as are the acts of visiting and giving attention to scenes of distress; and the due cultivation of them involves an equal degree of moral responsibility.

This again is connected with the remarkable power which we possess over the succession of our thoughts. We can direct the mind into a particular train; we can continue it and dwell upon it with calm and deliberate attention, so that the truths, which it brings before us, may produce their natural and proper effect on our moral feelings. The emotions thus excited lead to a certain line of conduct, which also is voluntary; and on the due cultivation of this chain of sequences depends a healthy moral condition. But we may neglect those parts of the sequence which are under the control of our will. We may abstain from directing our attention to such truths; we may view them in a slight, frivolous, or distorted manner, or we may dismiss them altogether; and if any degree of the emotions should be excited, we may make no effort towards the cultivation of the conduct to which they would lead us. The due cultivation of this power over the succession of our thoughts, is that which const.i.tutes one of the great differences between one man and another, both as intellectual and moral beings;--and, though correct moral emotions are not properly the objects of volition, it is thus that a man may incur the deepest moral guilt in the want of them.

The subject also leads to conclusions of the greatest importance respecting the principles on which we ought to conduct religious instruction, particularly in regard to the cultivation of religious emotions. It reminds us of the important law of our nature, that all true cultivation of religious emotion must be founded upon a sound culture of the understanding in the knowledge of religious truth, and a careful direction of the powers of reasoning and judging, both to its evidences and its tendencies. All impulse that does not arise in this manner can be nothing more than an artificial excitement of feeling, widely different from the emotion of a regulated mind. Such a system generates wild enthusiasm;--and the principle is of peculiar and essential importance in the education of the young. In then susceptible minds religious emotion is easily produced, and, by a particular management, may be fostered for a time. But those who have been trained in this manner are little qualified to meet the collisions of active life, and we need not wonder if they should make shipwreck of a faith which has not been founded in knowledge.

Before leaving the subject of the Moral Principle, there are two points closely connected with it which remain to be noticed. The one relates to the origin and immutability of moral distinctions, and, in connexion with this, a cla.s.s of speculations which hold a conspicuous place in the history of Ethical science, under the name of Theories of Morals. The other refers to a certain harmony or principle of arrangement, which the different moral feelings ought to preserve towards each other in a well-regulated mind.

-- I.--OF THE ORIGIN AND IMMUTABILITY OF MORAL DISTINCTIONS AND THEORIES OF MORALS.

In treating of the moral powers, I have considered various feelings as distinct parts of our const.i.tution, each intended to answer a specific purpose in the present scene of moral discipline. I am aware of an objection that may be urged against this mode of viewing the subject,--namely, that it is an unnecessary multiplication of original principles. I am not inclined to dispute respecting the term, _original principles_. I only contend for the fact, that there are certain feelings or propensities which are found to operate in the whole of mankind; and, with regard to these, I consider our object to be, simply to view man as he is. In his physical relations, we find him endowed with a variety of senses, and a great variety of bodily functions,--each adapted to its proper purpose, and all distinct from each other; and the physiologist is content to view them simply as they are. Were he to exercise his ingenuity upon them, he might contend with much plausibility, that it is highly incorrect to speak of five distinct and separate senses;--for that they are all merely modifications of sensation, differing only in the various kinds of the external impression. Thus, what is vulgarly called sight is the simple sensation of light,--and hearing is merely the sensation of sound. This would be all very true,--but it does not appear to elucidate the subject; nor, by any ingenuity of such speculation, could we be enabled to know more concerning these senses than when we called them sight and hearing. In the same manner it would appear, that the course of inquiry, respecting our moral feelings, is simply to observe what these feelings really are, and what are their obvious tendencies. When we have done so on adequate foundation, I conceive we have every reason for considering them as principles implanted in us by the Creator, for guidance in our present relations; and, like the functions of our bodies, so the powers and feelings of our minds shew a wonderful adaptation and design, worthy of their Omnipotent Cause. But we can know nothing of them beyond the facts,--and nothing is to be gained by any attempt, however ingenious, to simplify or explain them. We have formerly had occasion to allude to various speculations of a similar character, respecting the powers of perception and simple intellect,--all of which have now given way before the general admission of the truth, that, on the questions to which they refer, no human sagacity can carry us one step beyond the simple knowledge of the facts.

It will probably be admitted, that there have been many similar unprofitable speculations in the philosophy of the moral feelings; and that these speculations, instead of throwing any light upon the subject, have tended rather to withdraw the attention of inquirers from the questions of deep and serious importance connected with the investigation. Among these, perhaps, we may reckon some of the doctrines which hold a prominent place in the history of this branch of science,--under the name of _Theories of Morals_. These doctrines agree in admitting the fact, that there are among mankind certain notions respecting right and wrong,--moral and immoral actions; and they then profess to account for these impressions,--or to explain how men come to think one action right and another wrong. A brief view of these theories may properly belong to an outline of this department of science.

In contemplating the conduct of men as placed in certain relations towards each other, we perceive some actions which we p.r.o.nounce to be right, and others which we p.r.o.nounce to be wrong. In forming our opinion of them in this manner, we refer to the intentions of the actor, and, if we are satisfied that he really intended what we see to be the effect or the tendency of his conduct, or even that he purposed something which he was prevented from accomplishing, we view him with feelings of moral approbation or disapprobation,--or, in other words, apply to him the award of praise or blame. Such is our simple idea of virtue or vice, as applied either to the act or the agent. We have a conviction that there is a line of conduct to which ourselves and others are bound by a certain kind of obligation;--a departure from this const.i.tutes moral demerit or vice;--a correct observance of it const.i.tutes virtue.

This appears to be our primary impression of vice and virtue. The next question is, what is the origin of the impression, or on what ground is it that we conclude certain actions to be right and others wrong. Is it merely from a view of their consequences to ourselves or others; or do we proceed upon an absolute conviction of certain conduct being right, and certain other wrong, without carrying the mind farther than the simple act, or the simple intention of the actor,--without any consideration of the effects or the tendencies of the action. This is the question which has been so keenly agitated in the speculations of Ethical science, namely, respecting the origin and nature of moral distinctions. On the one hand, it is contended, that these moral impressions are in themselves immutable, and that an absolute conviction of their immutability is fixed upon us in that part of our const.i.tution which we call Conscience, in other words, there is a certain conduct to which we are bound by a feeling of obligation, apart from all other considerations whatever, and we have an impression that a departure from this in ourselves or others const.i.tutes vice. On the other hand, it is maintained, that these distinctions are entirely arbitrary, or arise out of circ.u.mstances, so that what is vice in one case may be virtue in another. Those who have adopted the latter hypothesis have next to explain, what the circ.u.mstances are which give rise, in this manner, to our impressions of vice and virtue, moral approbation or disapprobation.

The various modes of explaining this impression have led to the _Theories of Morals_.

The system of Mandeville ascribes our impressions of moral rect.i.tude entirely to the enactments of legislators. Man, he says, naturally seeks only his own gratification, without any regard to the happiness of other men. But legislators found that it would be necessary to induce him, in some way, to surrender a position of his personal gratification for the good of others, and so to promote the peace and harmony of society. To accomplish this with such a selfish being, it was necessary to give him some equivalent for the sacrifice he thus made; and the principle of his nature which they fixed upon, for this purpose, was his love of praise.

They made certain laws for the general good, and then flattered mankind into the belief that it was praiseworthy to observe them, and n.o.ble to sacrifice a certain degree of their own gratification for the good of others. What we call virtue thus resolves itself into the love of praise. In regard to such a system as this, it has been thought sufficient to point out the distinction between the immutable principles of morality and those arrangements which are dependent upon mere enactment. Such are many of the regulations and restrictions of commerce. They are intended for the public good, and, while they are in force, it is the duty of every good citizen to obey them. A change of the law, however, changes their character, for they possess in themselves none of the qualities of merit or demerit. But no laws can alter, and no statutes modify, those great principles of moral conduct which are graved indelibly on the conscience of all cla.s.ses of men.

Kings, it has been said, may make laws, but cannot create a virtue.

By another modification of this system, our impressions of virtue and vice are said to be derived entirely from mutual compact. Men, finding that there was a certain course of action which would contribute to their mutual advantage, and _vice versa_, entered into an agreement to observe certain conduct, and abstain from certain other. The violation of this compact const.i.tuted vice, the observance of it virtue.

By a theory, supported by some eminent men, as Clark and Wollaston, virtue was considered to depend on a conformity of the conduct to a certain sense of the fitness of things,--or the truth of things. The meaning of this, it must be confessed, is rather obscure. It however evidently refers the essence of virtue to a relation perceived by a process of reason; and therefore may be held as at variance with the belief of the impression being universal.

According to the _Theory of Utility_, as warmly supported by Mr. Hume, we estimate the virtue of an action and an agent entirely by their usefulness. He seems to refer all our mental impressions to two principles, reason and taste. Reason gives us simply the knowledge of truth or falsehood, and is no motive of action. Taste gives an impression of pleasure or pain,--so const.i.tutes happiness or misery, and becomes a motive of action. To this he refers our impressions of beauty and deformity, vice and virtue. He has, accordingly, distinctly a.s.serted that the words right and wrong signify nothing more than sweet or sour, pleasant or painful, being only effects upon the mind of the spectator produced by the contemplation of certain conduct,--and this, as we have already seen, resolves itself into the impression of its usefulness. An obvious objection to the system of utility was, that it might be applied to the effects of inanimate matter as correctly as to the deeds of a voluntary agent. A printing-press or a steam-engine might be as meritorious as a man of extensive virtue. To obviate this, Mr. Hume was driven to a distinction, which in fact amounted to giving up the doctrine, namely, that the sense of utility must be combined with a feeling of approbation. This leads us back to the previous question, on what this feeling of approbation is founded, and at once recognises a principle, distinct from the mere perception of utility. Virtuous conduct may indeed always contribute to general utility, or general happiness, but this is an effect only, not the cause or the principle which const.i.tutes it virtuous. This important distinction has been well stated by Professor Mills of Oxford. He defines morality to be,--"an obedience to the law and const.i.tution of man's nature, a.s.signed him by the Deity in conformity to his own essential and unchangeable attributes, the effect of which is the general happiness of his creatures."[2]--We may safely a.s.sert, that whatever is right is also expedient for man; but the converse by no means follows,--that what is expedient, that is what mankind think would be expedient, comes to be right.

[Footnote 2: Lecture on the Theory of Moral Obligation. Oxford, 1830.]

We now come to the _Selfish System_ of morals, according to which the fundamental principle of the conduct of mankind is a desire to promote their own gratification or interest. This theory has appeared in various forms, from a very early period in the history of Ethical science; but the most remarkable promoter of it in more modern times was Mr. Hobbes. According to him, man is influenced entirely by what seems calculated, more immediately, or more remotely, to promote his own interest; whatever does so, he considers as right,--the opposite as wrong. He is driven to society by necessity, and then, whatever promotes the general good, he considers as ultimately calculated to promote his own. This system is founded upon a fallacy, similar to that referred to under the former head. Virtuous conduct does impart gratification, and that of the highest kind; and, in the strictest sense of the word, it promotes the true interest of the agent, but this tendency is the effect, not the cause; and never can be considered as the principle which imparts to conduct its character of virtue; nor do we perform it merely because it affords us gratification, or promotes our interest.

The hypothesis, indeed, may be considered as distinctly contradicted by facts,--for, even in our own experience, it is clear, that the pleasure attending an act of generosity or virtue in ourselves, as well as our approbation of it in others, is diminished or destroyed by the impression that there was a selfish purpose to answer by it.

There is a modification of the selfish system which attempts to get rid of its more offensive aspect by a singular and circuitous chain of moral emotions. We have experienced, it is said, that a certain attention to the comfort or advantage of others contributes to our own. A kind of habit is thus formed, by which we come at last to seek the happiness of others for their own sake;--so that, by this process, actions, which at first were considered only as inexpedient, from being opposed to self-love, at length and insensibly come to be considered as immoral.

This can be considered as nothing more than an ingenious play upon words, and deserves only to be mentioned as a historical fact, in a view of those speculations by which this important subject has been obscured and bewildered.

Another modification of the theories of morals remains to be mentioned;--namely, that of the distinguished Paley. This eminent writer is decidedly opposed to the doctrine of a moral sense or moral principle; but the system which he proposes to subst.i.tute in its place must be acknowledged to be liable to considerable objections. He commences with the proposition that virtue is doing good to mankind, in obedience to the will of G.o.d, and for the sake of everlasting happiness.

The good of mankind, therefore, is the subject,--the will of G.o.d, the rule,--and everlasting happiness, the motive of human virtue. The will of G.o.d, he subsequently goes on to shew, is made known to us, partly by revelation, and partly by what we discover of his designs and dispositions from his works, or, as we usually call it, the light of nature. From this last source he thinks it is clearly to be inferred, that G.o.d wills and wishes the happiness of his creatures; consequently, actions which promote that will and wish must be agreeable to him, and the contrary. The method of ascertaining the will of G.o.d concerning any action, by the light of nature, therefore, is to inquire into the tendency of the action to promote or diminish general happiness.

Proceeding on those grounds, he then arrives at the conclusion, that whatever is expedient is right; and that it is the utility of any moral rule alone, which const.i.tutes the obligation of it. In his further elucidation of this theory, Dr. Paley admits, that an action may be useful, in an individual case, which is not right. To const.i.tute it right, it is necessary that it shall be "expedient upon the whole,--at the long run, in all its effects, collateral and remote, as well as those which are immediate and direct."

In presuming to offer a criticism upon Paley, I readily concede to the defenders of his system, that it is not to be cla.s.sed with the utilitarianism of Hume and G.o.dwin; and that it is not, correctly speaking, chargeable with selfishness, in holding out the happiness of a future state as a motive to virtue. The latter part of his system is clearly countenanced by the sacred writings; and it does appear to be a stretch of language, to apply the term selfishness to the longing which the sincere Christian feels for the full enjoyment of G.o.d. In regard to the former part of his doctrine, again, it appears that Paley meant to propose the will of G.o.d as the rule or obligation of morals, and utility only as a criterion or guide; though it must be confessed that his language is liable to much misconstruction, and is somewhat at variance with itself. The real objection to the doctrine of Paley, I apprehend, lies in his unqualified rejection of the supreme authority of conscience, and in the mental operation which he subst.i.tutes in its place, namely, a circuitous process of reasoning, in each individual, respecting the entire and ultimate expediency of actions. There are two considerations which appear to present serious objections to this part of the system as a doctrine to be applied to practical purposes. (1.) If we suppose a man deliberating respecting an action, which he perceives would be eminently expedient and useful in an individual case, and which he feels to be highly desirable in its immediate reference to that case,--we may naturally ask, whether he is in a likely condition to find his way to a sound conclusion respecting the consequences of the action "upon the whole, at the long run, in all its consequences, remote and collateral."--It may certainly be doubted whether, in any case, there is not great danger of differences of opinion arising, respecting this extended and ultimate expediency:--and it must be admitted that, in the man now referred to, the very circ.u.mstances of his perception of great and immediate utility, and the state of desire connected with it, would const.i.tute a moral condition which might interfere, in a very material degree, with his calculation as to its ultimate expediency. Upon whatever system we proceed, I fear it must be conceded as a fact, that there is a singular propensity in the ma.s.s of mankind to consider their own pains and pleasures before those of other men; and that this propensity must interfere with the cool course of moral calculation which the system of utility must consider as indispensable. (2.) Independently of this consideration, we may be allowed to doubt, whether any human being can arrive at such an extensive knowledge, as this theory seems to render necessary, of all the consequences of an action, remote and collateral. This would appear to const.i.tute a kind and degree of knowledge to be found only in the Omniscience of the Deity. It is, in fact, by giving its full weight to this difficulty, that the doctrine of utility has been employed by some foreign writers, in their attempts to undermine the whole foundation of morals. "The goodness of actions,"

says Beausobre, in his Pyrrhonisme Raisonable, "depends upon their consequences, which man cannot foresee, nor accurately ascertain." What harmony, indeed, or what consistency of moral sentiment can we expect from a system, by which man himself is made the judge of the code of morals to which he is to be subject, and by which his decisions, on a question so momentous, are made to lest on those remote consequences of actions which he must feel to be beyond the reach of his limited faculties.

If these observations be well-founded, I think we cannot hesitate to maintain, that, on such a nice calculation of consequences, it is impossible to found a rule of morals in any degree adapted to the necessities of man. The same objection applies to every doctrine, which does not recognise the supreme authority of conscience as an original part of our moral const.i.tution, warning us of certain conduct as immutably right, and certain other conduct as immutably wrong, without any regard either to our own advantage, or to our judgment of the tendency of the deeds. Whenever we depart from this great principle, we reduce every moral decision to what must primarily be a process of reasoning, and in which, from the intricate calculation of consequences which necessarily arises, there can scarcely fail to be differences of opinion respecting the tendency of actions, instead of that absolute conviction which the deep importance of the subject renders indispensable. It may, farther, be confidently stated, as a matter of fact, that a conscientious man, in considering an action which involves a point of moral duty, does not enter upon any such calculation of its consequences. He simply asks himself,--is it right?--and so decides, according to an impulse within, which he feels to be a part of his moral const.i.tution, susceptible of no explanation, and not admitting of being referred to any other principle. I confess, indeed, that I cannot perceive, how the doctrine of utility, in any of its forms, can be reconciled with the principle of moral responsibility. For what we commonly call vice and virtue, must resolve themselves merely into differences of opinion respecting what is most expedient in all its consequences, remote and collateral. We have already alluded to the considerations which must make this decision one of extreme difficulty;--and how can we ascribe moral guilt to that, which, though in vulgar language we may call it vice, must very often be nothing more than an error in judgment respecting this ultimate good.

In regard to the whole of this important subject, I cannot see the necessity for the circuitous mental operations which have been made to apply to it; nor can I enter into the repugnance, shewn by various cla.s.ses of moralists, against the belief of a process or a principle in our const.i.tution, given us for a guide in our moral relations. It is unnecessary to dispute about its name, or even about its origin;--for the former is of no importance, and of the latter we know nothing. The question relates simply to its existence as a mental exercise distinct from any process of reasoning, and the only criterion, to which the question can be referred, is an appeal to the moral feelings of every individual. Is there not a mental movement or feeling, call it what we may, by which we have a perception of actions as just or unjust, right or wrong; and by which we experience shame or remorse respecting our own conduct in particular instances, and indignation against the conduct of others. Every one is conscious of such a mental exercise, and there are two considerations which, I think, may be referred to as moral facts, shewing a clear and decided difference between it and any simple process of reasoning. (1.) I would ask whether, in deciding on his conduct, every man is not conscious of two cla.s.ses of actions, in regard to which the processes of his mind differ widely from each other. In deciding respecting actions of the one cla.s.s, he carefully and anxiously deliberates on their tendencies,--that is, their utility towards himself, or to others whose welfare he has in view; and he reflects on what was the result of his conduct in similar cases, on former occasions. In deciding respecting actions of the other cla.s.s, he enters into no such calculations;--he feels an immediate impression, that a certain course is right, and a certain other wrong, without looking a single step into their tendencies. Every one is conscious of this difference, between acting from a perception of utility and from a feeling of obligation or a sense of duty; and it would be difficult to prove that any perception of utility alone ever amounts to a sense of obligation. (2.) In that cla.s.s of actions to which is properly applied a calculation of utility, we see the most remarkable differences in judgment manifested by men, whom we regard as holding a high place in respect both of integrity and talent. Let us take for example the measures of political economy. A conscientious statesman feels that he is bound to pursue measures calculated to promote the good of his country; but the individual measures are often questions of expediency or utility. And what an endless diversity of judgment do we observe respecting them; and how often do we find measures proposed by able men, as calculated to produce important public benefit, which others, of no inferior name, with equal confidence, condemn as frivolous, or even dangerous. If there can be such a difference of opinion respecting one cla.s.s of actions, we cannot avoid the impression that there may be similar differences respecting others, whenever the decision is left to a simple process of reason; and we cannot but feel some misgivings, as to what the state of human society would be, if men, in their moral decisions were kept together by no other ties than the speculations of each individual respecting general utility. In any such process, we can see no provision for that uniformity of feeling required for the cla.s.s of actions in which are concerned our moral decisions;--and I can see nothing unphilosophical in the belief, that the Creator has provided, in reference to these, a part or a process in our moral const.i.tution, which is incapable of a.n.a.lysis,--but which proves, as Butler has termed it, "a rule of right within, to every man who honestly attends to it."

To this view of the subject I would add only one consideration, which alone appears to present an insurmountable objection to the doctrine of utility in all its modifications; namely, that any correct ideas of the utility of an action can be derived only from experience. The study of the principles of morality, therefore, would consist of a series of observations or experiments, by which valid conclusions might be ascertained; and an individual, entering upon the momentous question, would require either to trust to the conclusions of others, or to make the observations and experiments for himself. In the former case, he could not fail to perceive the precarious nature of the basis on which he was receiving principles of such weighty importance. He could not fail to remark, that, in other sciences, unsound and premature deductions had been brought forward, even on high authority, and allowed to usurp the place of truth. How is he to be satisfied, that, in this highest of all inquiries, similar errors had not been committed. To avoid such uncertainty, he may resolve to make the observations or experiments for himself, and to trust only to his own conclusions. But here he is met by another difficulty of appalling magnitude. For a lifetime may not suffice to bring the experiments to a close; and, during this, he must remain in the same uncertainty on the great principles of morals, as respecting the periods of a comet, which, having been seen for a day, darts off into its eccentric orbit, and may not return for a century. How can it accord with our convictions of the wisdom of Him who made us, that he should have made us thus.

The foundation of all these _Theories of Morals_, then, seems to be the impression, that there is nothing right or wrong, just or unjust in itself; but that our ideas of right and wrong, justice and injustice, arise either from actual law or mutual compact, or from our view of the tendencies of actions. Another modification of these theories, liable, as it is sometimes stated, to similar objection, ascribes the origin of right and wrong directly to the will of the Deity, and holds that there is nothing wrong which might not have been right, if he had so ordained it.

By the immutability of moral distinctions, as opposed to these theories, we mean,--that there are certain actions which are immutably right, and which we are bound in duty to perform, and certain actions which are immutably wrong, apart from any other consideration whatever;--and that an absolute conviction of this is fixed upon us, in the moral principle or conscience, independently of knowledge derived from any other source respecting the will or laws of the Almighty. This important distinction has been sometimes not unaptly expressed by saying of such actions,--not that they are right because the Deity has commanded them,--but that he has commanded them because they are right. By this system, therefore, which refers our moral impressions to the supreme authority of conscience, a principle is disclosed, which, independently even of revelation, not only establishes an absolute conviction of the laws of moral rect.i.tude, but leads us to the impression of moral responsibility and a moral Governor; and as immediately flowing from this, a state of future retribution. We have already shewn this to accord with the declarations of the sacred writings, and it is evidently the only system on which we can account for that uniformity of moral sentiment which is absolutely required for the harmonies of society. For it is, in fact, on a conviction of this feeling in ourselves, and of the existence of a similar and universal principle in others, that is founded all the mutual confidence which keeps mankind together. It is this reciprocity of moral feeling that proves a constant check upon the conduct of men in the daily transactions of life; but, to answer this purpose, there is evidently required an impression of its uniformity,--or a conviction that the actions, which we disapprove in others will be condemned in us by the unanimous decision of other men.

It is equally clear that we have no such impression of a uniformity of sentiment on any other subject, except on those referable to the cla.s.s of first truths; and this immediately indicates a marked distinction between our moral impressions, and any of those conclusions at which we arrive by a process of the understanding. It is clear, also, that this uniformity can arise from no system, which either refers us directly to the will of G.o.d, or is liable to be affected by the differences which may exist in the judgment, the moral taste, the personal feelings, or the interests of different individuals. It must be, in itself, fixed and immutable, conveying an absolute conviction which admits of no doubt and no difference of opinion. Such is the great principle of conscience.

However its warnings may be neglected, and its influence obscured by pa.s.sion and moral degradation, it still a.s.serts its claim to govern the whole man. "Had it strength," says Butler, "as it had right; had it power, as it had manifest authority, it would absolutely govern the world."

In opposition to this belief of a uniformity of moral feeling, much importance has been attached to the practices of certain ancient and some barbarous nations, as the encouragement of theft in Sparta, and the exposure of the aged among certain tribes in India. Such instances prove no diversity of moral feeling; but a difference of practice, arising from certain specialities, real or supposed, by which, in the particular cases, the influence of the primary moral feeling is, for the time, set aside. It is of no importance to the argument, whether the disturbing principle thus operating be the result of an absurd local policy or a barbarous superst.i.tion. It is enough that we see a principle, which, in point of fact, does thus operate, suspending, in the particular instances, the primary moral impression. It was not that, in Sparta, there was any absence of the usual moral feeling in regard to theft in the abstract,--but that the cultivation of habits of activity and enterprise, which arose from the practice, was considered as a national object of the highest importance, in a small and warlike state, surrounded by powerful enemies. It is precisely in the same manner, that, in individual conduct, a man may be misled by pa.s.sion or by interest to do things which his sober judgment condemns. In doing so, there is no want of the ordinary moral feeling which influences other men; but he has brought himself to violate this feeling, for certain purposes which he finds to be highly desirable; and then, probably, seeks to defend his conduct to the satisfaction of his own mind, and of the minds of others. He has a distinct perception of what is right, while he does what is wrong. There are numerous facts which ill.u.s.trate the same principle, and shew the recognition of correct moral feelings, even in those who habitually and daringly violate them;--as the laws of honour and honesty which robbers observe towards each other,--and the remarkable fidelity of smugglers towards their a.s.sociates. In some of the tribes in the South Seas, also, most remarkable for their dishonesty, it was found, that while they encouraged each other in pillaging strangers, theft was most severely punished among themselves.

Need I farther refer, on this subject, to the line of argument adopted in the great question of slavery. It is directed to the palliating circ.u.mstances in the actual state of slavery, not to a broad defence of slavery itself. Its object is to shew, that slavery, under all its present circ.u.mstances, may be reconciled with the principles of humanity and justice:--no attempt is ever made to prove, that it is consistent with these principles to tear a human being from his country and his kindred, and make him a slave.[3]

[Footnote 3: See this subject eloquently argued in Dr. Chalmers'

Bridgewater Treatise.]

On this subject we are sometimes triumphantly asked, where is the conscience of the Inquisitor,--as if the moral condition of such an individual incontestably proved, that there can be no such power as we consider conscience to be. But I think it cannot be doubted, that, as in the more common cases which have been mentioned, the conscience of the Inquisitor comes gradually to be accommodated to the circ.u.mstances in which he has voluntarily placed himself. This remarkable moral process has been repeatedly referred to. It may originate in various causes. It may arise from pa.s.sion, or an ill-regulated state of the desires or affections of the mind; it may arise from motives of interest, leading a man by small and gradual steps into actions which his sober judgment condemns; or false opinions, however received, may be allowed to fasten on the mind, until, from want of candid examination, they come to be invested with the authority of truth. In the moral process which follows, each single step is slight, and its influence almost imperceptible; but this influence is perpetuated, and gains strength in each succeeding step, until the result is a total derangement of the moral harmony of the mind.

It remains only that we briefly notice the system of Dr. Adam Smith, commonly called the theory of Sympathy. According to this ingenious writer, it is required for our moral sentiments respecting an action, that we enter into the feelings both of the agent, and of him to whom the action relates. If we sympathize with the feelings and intentions of the agent, we approve of his conduct as right,--if not, we consider it as wrong. If, in the individual to whom the action refers, we sympathize with a feeling of grat.i.tude, we regard the agent as worthy of praise,--if with a feeling of resentment, the contrary. We thus observe our feelings respecting the conduct of others, in cases in which we are not personally concerned,--then apply these rules to ourselves, and thus judge of our own conduct. This very obvious statement, however, of what every man feels, does not supply the place of a fundamental rule of right and wrong; and indeed Dr. Smith does not appear to contend that it does so. It applies only to the application of a principle, not to the origin of it. Our sympathy can never be supposed to const.i.tute an action right or wrong; but it enables us to apply to individual cases a principle of right and wrong derived from another source;--and to clear our judgment in doing so, from the blinding influence of those selfish feelings by which we are so apt to be misled when we apply it directly to ourselves. In estimating our own conduct, we then apply to it those conclusions which we have made with regard to the conduct of others,--or we imagine others applying the same process in regard to us, and consider how our conduct would appeal to an impartial observer.

This, however, is a most important principle in regard to our moral decisions,--namely, the process by which we view an action, or a course of conduct, in another, and then apply the decision to ourselves. When the power of moral judgment is obscured or deadened in regard to our own conduct, by self-love or deranged moral habits, all the correctness of judgment is often preserved respecting the actions of others. It is thus that men are led on by interest or pa.s.sion into courses of action, which, if viewed calmly and dispa.s.sionately, they would not deliberately defend even in themselves, and which, when viewed in others, they promptly condemn. This principle is beautifully ill.u.s.trated in the sacred writings, when the prophet went to the king of Israel, and laid before him the hypothetical case of a rich man, who had committed an act of gross and unfeeling injustice against a poor neighbour. The monarch was instantly roused to indignation, and p.r.o.nounced a sentence of severe but righteous vengeance against the oppressor,--when the prophet turned upon him with the solemn denunciation, "Thou art the man." His moral feeling in regard to his own conduct was dead; but his power of correct moral decision when applied to another was undiminished.

In regard to the whole of this subject, an important distinction is to be made between the fundamental principle, from which actions derive their character of right and wrong,--and the application of reason in judging of their tendencies. Before concluding this part of the subject, therefore, we have to add a very few observations on the influence exerted on our moral decisions by reason,--always however in subserviency to the great principle of conscience. The office of reason appears to be, in the first place, to judge of the expediency, propriety, and consequences of actions, which do not involve any feeling of moral duty. In regard to the affections, again, a process of reason is often necessary, not only respecting the best mode of exercising them, but also, in many cases, in deciding whether we shall exercise them at all. Thus, we may feel compa.s.sion in a particular instance, but perceive the individual to be so unworthy, that what we could do would be of no benefit to him. In such a case we may feel it to be a matter not only of prudence, but of duty, to resist the affection, and to reserve the aid we have to bestow for persons more deserving.

In cases in which an impression of moral duty is concerned, an exercise of reason is still in many instances, necessary, for enabling us to adapt our means to the end which we desire to accomplish. We may feel an anxious wish to promote the interest or relieve the distress of another, or to perform some high and important duty,--but call reason to our aid respecting the most effectual and the most judicious means of doing so.

Conscience, in such cases, produces the intention,--reason suggests the means;--and it is familiar to every one that these do not always harmonize. Thus a man may be sound in his intentions, who errs in judgment respecting the means for carrying them into effect. In such cases, we attach our feeling of moral approbation to the intention only,--we say the man meant well, but erred in judgment;--and to this error we affix no feeling of moral disapprobation,--unless, perhaps, in some cases, we may blame him for acting precipitately on his own judgment, instead of taking the advice of those qualified to direct him.

We expect such a man to acquire wisdom from experience, by observing the deficiency of his judgment in reference to his intentions; and, in future instances, to learn to take advice. There are other circ.u.mstances in which an exercise of reason is frequently brought into action in regard to moral decisions;--as in some cases in which one duty appears to interfere with another;--likewise in judging whether, in particular instances, any rule of duty is concerned, or whether we are at liberty to take up the case simply as one of expediency or utility. In making their decisions in doubtful cases of this description, we observe great differences in the habits of judging in different individuals. One shews the most minute and scrupulous anxiety, to discover whether the case involves any principle of duty,--and a similar anxiety in acting suitably when he has discovered it. This is what we call a strictly conscientious man. Another, who shews no want of a proper sense of duty when the line is clearly drawn, has less anxiety in such cases as these, and may sacrifice minute or doubtful points to some other feeling,--as self-interest or even friendship,--where the former individual might have discovered a principle of duty.

Reason is also concerned in judging of a description of cases, in which a modification of moral feeling arises from the complexity of actions,--or, in other words, from the circ.u.mstances in which the individual is placed. This may be ill.u.s.trated by the difference of moral sentiment which we attach to the act of taking away the life of another,--when this is done by an individual under the impulse of revenge,--by the same individual in self-defence,--or by a judge in the discharge of his public duty.

There is still another office frequently a.s.signed to Reason in moral decisions,--as when we speak of a man acting upon Reason as opposed to pa.s.sion. This however is, correctly speaking, only a different use of the term; and it means that he acts upon a calm consideration of the motives by which he ought to be influenced, instead of being hurried away by a desire or an affection which has been allowed to usurp undue influence.