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, together 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 multitudes of conflicting behefs about human duty dictated by unaided moral sense, to disappear before the deductions scientifically 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 belief, is the inference that as desire is found to be the incentive * A doctrine held by Aristotle and his followera.
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 influence 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 monitions 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, however, 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 contradictory, it may still be capable of generating a true fundamental intuition, which can be logically unfolded into a scientific 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. Incapacity 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 consistency 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 sufficiently 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 influence, 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 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, neverceasing change. We see it alike in the organic and the inorganic—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 existence; and where a vast continent once stretched, there remain 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 himself 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 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, exhibits 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 quivering shoe from the haunch of a hve ox. Neither does he.
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 assassinate 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 disapproved? 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 gentleman 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 indicate 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 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 necessary 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 remain 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.
Nay more: not only ought we to regard such disagreement, when it appears, without prejudice; but we ought to expect it; and to consider it, if anything, rather an indication of truth than of error. It is preposterous to look for consistency between absolute moral truth, and the defective characters and usages of our existing state! As already said. Morality professes to be a code of rules proper for " the guidance of humanity 38 INTRODDCTION.
38 INTRODDCTION.
in its highest conceivable perfection." A universal obedience to its precepts implies an ideal society. How then can it be expected to harmonise with the ideas, and actions, and institutions of man as he now is? When we say that mankind are sinful, weak, frail, we simply mean that they do not habitually fulfil the appointed law. Imperfection is merely another word for disobedience. So that congruity between a true theory of duty, and an untrue state of humanity, is an impossibility, a contradiction in the nature of things. Whoever, by way of recommending his scheme of ethics, sets forth its immediate and entire practicability, thereby inevitably proves its falsehood. Eight principles of action become practicable, only as man becomes perfect; or rather, to put the expressions in proper sequence — man becomes perfect, just in so far as he is able to obey them.
A total disagreement may therefore be ' looked for between the doctrines promulgated in the following pages, and the institutions amidst which we live. And the reader wiU be prepared to view such disagreement not only as consistent with their truth, but as adding to its probabihty.
LEMMA II.
And yet, unable as the imperfect man may be to fulfil the perfect law, there is no other law for him. One right course only is open; and he must either follow that or take the consequences. The conditions of existence will not bend before his perversity; nor relax in consideration of his weakness. Neither, when they are broken, may any exception from penalties be hoped for. " Obey or suffer" are the ever-repeated alternatives. Disobedience is sure to be convicted. And there are no reprieves.
It is indeed the favourite maxim of a certain popular philosophy, that " there is no rule without an exception," — a maxim about as respectable as the proverbs along with which it commonly passes current. AppUed to conventional usages — to the tenets of state policy — to social regulations — to the precepts of pocket prudence — to the laws of grammar, of art, of etiquette — or to those common aphorisms which roughly classify the experiences of every-day hfe, it may be true enough; but if affirmed of the essential principles of tilings, of society, of man, it is utterly false.
Nature's rules, on the contrary, have no exceptions. The apparent ones are only apparent; not real. They are indications either that we have not found the true law, or that we have got an imperfect expression of it. Thus, if terrestrial gravitation be defined as " a tendency possessed by all free bodies to descend towards the centre of the earth," you may triumphantly add — " all free bodies except the balloon." But your balloon is no exception. Its ascent is just as much a result of gravitation as the falling of a stone. You have merely proved that the definition does not adequately express the law. Again, to the assertion that exercise increases strength — you may answer, that although generally true, it is not true of invalids, to whom exercise is often detrimental; and that it is only true of the healthy within certain limits. Just so. But such qualifications would have been needless, if the law had been completely stated. Had it been said that — so long as the power of assimilation is sufficient to make good the waste consequent upon exercise, exercise increases strength — no limitations could have been discovered. The so-called exceptions are in ourselves, not in nature. They show either that the law eludes our perception, or bafiles our power of expression.
- Eightly understood, the progress from deepest ignorance to highest erJighteimient, is a progress from entire unconsciousness of law, to the conviction that law is universal and inevitable. Accumulating knowledge and continual induction are ever restricting the old ideas of special causation within narrower limits. Each new discovery in science — every anomaly solved — strengthens men ia the belief that phenomena result from general uniform forces. And at length, by dint of constantly-repeated evidence, they begin to perceive that there are no suspensions of these forces even for the avoidance of the most terrific catastrophes. They see that although fleets be sent to the bottom by the resulting storm, yet must atmospheric equilibrium be restored. They see that the earth does not cease its attraction, even to save a village from the impending avalanche. They see that, regai-dless of the consequent destraction of a church, or blowing up of a vessel, the electric fluid -ivill still follow " the line of least resistance." They see that chemical afiinity must act, not'withstanding it ends in the burning of a city to ashes — in the submergence of half a country by volcanic disturbance — or in the loss of a hundred tbousand lives by an epidemic. Every increment of knowledge goes to show that constancy is an essential attribute of the Divine rule: an unvaryingness which renders the echpse of a hundred years hence predicable to a moment! And for the end of these unbending ordinances of nature— we find it to be the universal good. To render the world habitable; that is the great object. The minor evils due to this persistency of action are as nothing compared with the infinite benefits secured.
Whether those evils might or might not have been avoided, we need not now consider. It is enough for us to know that constancy is the law, and we have no alternative but to assume that law to be the best possible one.
As with the physical, so with the etliical. A belief, as yet fitful and partial, is beginning to spread amongst men, that here also there is an indissoluble bond between cause and consequence, an inexorable destiny, a " law which altereth not." Confounded by the multiplied and ever-new aspects of human affairs, it is not perhaps surprising that men should fail duly to recognise the systematic character of the Divine rule. Yet in the moral as in the material world, accumulated evidence is gradually generating the conviction, that events are not at bottom fortuitous; but that they are wrought out in a certain inevitable way by unchanging forces. In all ages there has been some glimmering perception of this truth; and experience is ever giving to that perception increased distinctness. Indeed even now all men do, in one mode or other, testify of such a faith. Every known creed is an assertion of it. What are the moral codes of the Mahometan, the Brahmin, the Buddhist, but so many acknowledgments of the inseparable connection between conduct and its results? Do they not all say you shall not do this, and this, because they will produce evil; and you shall do that and that, because they leill produce good? No matter that their founders erred in the attempt to refer each effect to its special cause, and so botched their systems of morality; not-^\ithstaiiding this, they evinced the belief that there is an inevitable law of causation in human affairs, which it is for man to learn and conform to. And is not this the doctrine of the highest known religion? Does not Christianity also teach that such and such deeds shall surely end in such and such issues — evil-doing in punishment, well-doing in reward — and that these things are necessarily and indissoluhly connected?
We imply such a faith, too, in our every-day conversations; in our maxims and precepts, in our education of children, in our advice to friends. In judging men and things we instinctively refer them to some standard of ascertained principles. We predict good or evil of this or the other scheme, because of its accordance or discordance with certain perceived laws of life. Nay, even the pettifogging red-tapist, with his hand-tomouth expediency, and professed contempt for " abstract principles," has really a secret consciousness of some such invariable sequence of events — does really believe in the sway of that "beneficent necessity" which to a given act attaches a fixed result. For what is the true meaning of his " measures " — his "projects of law"? He does not think it a toss-up whether this, or that, effect will be produced by them. If he did, he would be as ready to adopt one plan as another. Evidently he sees that there are constant influences at work, which, from each cii'cumstance, or set of ^circumstances, educe an unavoidable consequence; and that under like conditions like events will again follow.
Surely, then, if all believe in the persistency of these secondary laws, much more should they believe in the persistency of those primary ones, which underlie human existence, and out of which our every-day truths grow. We cannot deny the root, if we recognise the branches. And if such is the constitution of things, we aie compelled to admit this same " beneficent necessity." There is no alternative. Either society has laws, or it has not. If it has not, there can be no order, no certainty, no system in its phenomena. If it has, then are they like the other laws of the universe — sure, inflexible, ever active, and having no exceptions.
How infinitely important is it, that we should ascertain what these laws are; and having ascertained, implicitly obey them! If they really exist, then only by submission to them can anything permanently succeed. Just in so far as it complies with the principles of moral equilibrium can it stand. Our social edifice may be constructed with all possible labour and ingenuity, and be strongly cramped together with cunninglydevised enactments, but if there be no rectitude in its component parts — if it is not built on upright principles, it will assuredly tumble to pieces. As well might we seek to light a fire with ice, feed cattle on stones, hang our hats on cobwebs, or otherwise disregard the physical laws of the world, as go contrary to its equally imperative ethical laws.
Yes, but there are exceptions, say you. We cannot always be strictly guided by abstract principles. Prudential considerations must have some weight. It is necessary to use a little policy.
Very specious, no doubt, are your reasons for advocating this or the otlier exception. But if there he any truth in the foregoing argument, no infraction of the law can he made -with impunity. Those cherished schemes by which you propose to attain some desired good by a little politic disobedience, are all delusive. Were any one to tell you that he had invented a mechanical combination, which doubled power without diminishing velocity, or that he had discovered the quadrature of the circle, or that he knew the receipt for the philosopher's stone, or that he could sell you a child's caul which would save you from drowning, you would reply, that whilst there were laws of matter, such things could not be — that they were proved impossibilities. Exactly so. But rest satisJied that they are not more complete impossibilities than are your proposed achievements, which similarly conflict with the essential laws of life.