 CHAPTER VIII. So much with regard to the two firsts of the articles upon which the evil tendency of an action may depend, vis, the act itself, and the general assemblage of the circumstances with which it may have been accompanied. We come now to consider the ways in which the particular circumstance of intention may be concerned in it. First then, the intention or will may regard either of two objects. One, the act itself, or two, its consequences. Of these objects, that which the intention regards may be styled intentional. If it regards the act, then the act may be said to be intentional. Footnote. On this occasion, the words voluntary and involuntary are commonly employed. These, however, I purposely abstain from, on account of the extreme ambiguity of their signification. By a voluntary act is meant sometimes any act in the performance of which the will has had any concern at all. In this sense, it is synonymous to intentional. Sometimes, such acts only, in the production of which the will has been determined by motives not of a painful nature. In this sense, it is synonymous to unconstrained or uncoerced. Sometimes, such acts only, in the production of which the will has been determined by motives, which, whether of the pleasurable or plainful kind, occurred to a man himself without being suggested by anybody else. In this sense, it is synonymous to spontaneous. The sense of the word involuntary does not correspond completely to that of the word voluntary. Involuntary is used in opposition to intentional and to unconstrained, but not to spontaneous. It might be of use to confine the signification of the words voluntary and involuntary to one single and very narrow case, which will be mentioned in the next note. And footnote. If the consequences, so also done, may the consequences. If it regards both the act and consequences, the whole action may be said to be intentional. Whichever of those articles is not the object of the intention, may of course be said to be unintentional. The act may very easily be intentional without the consequences, and often is so. Thus, you may intend to touch a man without intending to hurt him, and yet, as the consequences turn out, you may chance to hurt him. The consequences of an act may also be intentional, without the acts being intentional throughout. That is, without its being intentional in every stage of it. But it is not so frequent a case as the former. You intend to hurt a man, suppose, by running against him, and pushing him down, and you run towards him accordingly. But the second man coming in on a sudden between you and the first man, before you can stop yourself, you run against the second man, and by him push down first. But the consequences of an act cannot be intentional, without the acts being itself intentional in at least the first stage. If the act be not intentional in the first stage, it is not act of yours. There is accordingly no intention on your part to produce the consequences. That is to say, the individual consequences. All there can have been on your part is a distant intention to produce other consequences, of the same nature, by some act of yours, at a future time. Or else, without any intention, a bear wish to see such event take place. The second man, suppose, runs of his own accord against the first, and pushes him down. You had the intentions of doing a thing of the same nature, vis, to run against him, and push him down yourself. But you had done nothing in pursuance of those intentions. The individual consequences, therefore, of the act, which the second man performed in pushing down the first, cannot be said to have been on your part intentional. Footnote. To render the analysis here given, of the possible states of mind, in point of intentionality absolutely complete, it must be pushed to such a further degree of minuteness as to some eyes will be apt to appear trifling. On this account it seems advisable to discard what follows, from the text to a place where any one who thinks proper may pass by it. Any act of the body, one of the positive kind, is motion. Now in motion there are always three articles to be considered. One, the quantity of matter that moves. Two, the direction in which it moves. And three, the velocity with which it moved. Correspondent to these three articles are so many modes of intentionality with regard to an act considered as being only in its first stage. To be completely unintentional, it must be unintentional with respect to every one of these three particulars. It is the case with those acts which alone are properly termed involuntary, acts in the performance of which the will has no sort of share, such as the contraction of the hearts and arteries. Upon this principle acts that are unintentional in their first stage may be distinguished into such as are completely unintentional and such as are incompletely unintentional. And these again may be unintentional, either in the point of quantity of matter alone, in point of direction alone, in point of velocity alone, or in any two of these points together. The example given further on may easily be extended to this part of the analysis by any one who thinks it's worth the while. There seem to be occasions in which even these dispositions might mute as they may appear, may not be without their use in practice. In the case of homicide, for example, and other corporal injuries, all the distinctions here specified may occur, and in the course of trial may, for some purpose or other, require to be brought to mind and made the subject of discourse. What may contribute to when the dimension of them pardonable is the use that might possibly be made of them in natural philosophy. In the hands of an expert metaphysician, these, together with the foregoing chapter on human actions and the section on the facts in general, in the title Evidence of the Book of Procedure, might perhaps be made to contribute something towards an exhaustive analysis of the possible varieties of mechanical inventions. 2. A consequence, when it is intentional, might either be directly so or only obliquely. It may be said to be directly or linearly intentional when the prospect of producing it constituted one of the links in the chain of causes by which the person was determined to do the act. It may be said to be obliquely or collaterally intentional when although the consequence was in contemplation and appeared likely to ensue in case of the act being performed, yet the prospect of producing such consequence did not constitute a link in the aforesaid chain. 3. An incident, which is directly intentional, may or either be ultimately so or only mediately. It may be said to be ultimately intentional when it stands last of all exterior events in the aforesaid chain of motives in so much that the prospect of the production of such incident could there be a certainty of its taking place would be sufficient to determine the will without the prospect of its producing any other. It may be said to be mediately intentional and no more when there is some other incident, the prospect of producing which forms a subsequent link in the same chain in so much that the prospect of producing the former will not have operated as a motive, but for the tendency which it seemed to have towards the projection of the latter. 4. When an incident is directly intentional, it may either be exclusively so or inexclusively. It may be said to be exclusively intentional when no other but that very individual incident would have answered the purpose in so much that no other incident had any share in determining the will to the act in question. It may be said to have been inexclusively footnote or concurrently and footnote intentional when there was some other incident, the prospect of which was acting upon the will at the same time. 5. When an incident is inexclusively intentional, it may be either conjunctively so or disjunctively or indiscriminately. It may be said to be conjunctively intentional with regard to such other incident when the intention is to produce both. Disjunctively when the intention is to produce either the one or the other indifferently, but not both. Indiscriminately when the intention is indifferently to produce either the one or the other or both as it may happen. 6. When two incidents are disjunctively intentional, there may be so with or without preference. They may be said to be so with preference when the intention is that one of them in particular should happen rather than the other, without preference when the intention is equally fulfilled whichever of them happens. Footnote, there is a difference between the case where an incident is altogether unintentional and that in which it's being disjunctively intentional with reference to another. The preference is in favor of that other. In the first case, it is not the intention of the party that the incident in question should happen at all. In the latter case, the intention is rather that the other should happen. But if that cannot be, then that this case in question should happen rather than that this in question should happen rather than that neither should and that both at any rate should not happen. All these are distinctions to be attended to in the use of the particle ore, a particle of very ambiguous import and of great importance in legislation. 1. One example will make all this clear. William II, King of England, being out a stag hunting, received from Sir Walter Tyrell a wound of which he died. Footnote, Hume's history, and footnote. Let us take this case and diversify it with a variety of suppositions corresponding to the distinctions just laid down. 1. First then, Tyrell did not so much as entertain a thought of the king's death, or if he did, looked upon it as an event of which there was no danger. In either of these cases, the incident of his killing the king was altogether unintentional. 2. He saw a stag running that way, and he saw the king riding that way at the same time. What he aimed at was to kill the stag. He did not wish to kill the king. At the same time, he saw that if he shot, it was as likely he should kill the king as the stag. Yet, for all that he shot and killed the king accordingly. In this case, the incident of his killing the king was intentional, but obliquely so. 3. He killed the king on account of the hatred he bore him, and for no other reason than the pleasure of destroying him. In this case, the incident of the king's death was not only directly, but ultimately intentional. 4. He killed the king, intending fully to do so. Not for any hatred he bore him, but for the sake of plunging him when dead. In this case, the incident of the king's death was directly intentional, but not ultimately. It was immediately intentional. 5. He intended neither more nor less than to kill the king. He had no other aim nor wish. In this case, it was exclusively as well as directly intentional. Exclusively, to wit, with regard to every other material incident. 6. So Walter shot the king in the right leg, as he was plucking a thorn out of it with his left hand. His intention was, by shooting the arrow into his leg through his hand, to cripple him in both those limbs at the same time. In this case, the incident of the king's being shot in the leg was intentional, and that conjunctively with another, which did not happen, was his being shot in the hand. 7. The intention of Tyrol was to shoot the king either in the hand or in the leg, but not in both, and rather in the hand than in the leg. In this case, the intention of shooting in the hand was disjunctively concurrent with regard to the other incident, and that was preference. 8. His intention was to shoot the king either in the leg or the hand, whichever might happen, but not in both. In this case, the intention was inexclusive, but disjunctively so. Yet that, however, without preference. 9. His intention was to shoot the king either in the leg or the hand or both, as it might happen. In this case, the intention was indiscriminately concurrent with respect to the two incidents. It is to be observed that an act may be unintentional in any stage or stages of it, though intentional in the proceeding, and on the other hand, it may be intentional in any stage or stages of it, and yet unintentional in the succeeding. Footnote, c. 7, actions, paragraph 14, and footnote. But whether it be intentional or no in any proceeding stage is immaterial with respect to the consequences, so it be unintentional in the last. The only point with respect to which it is material is the proof. The more stages the act is unintentional in, the more apparent it will commonly be that it was unintentional with respect to the last. If a man intending to strike you on the cheek strikes you in the eye and puts it out, it will probably be difficult for him to prove that it was not his intention to strike you in the eye. It will probably be easier if his intention was really not to strike you or even not to strike at all. It is frequent to hear men speak of a good intention, of a bad intention, of the goodness and badness of a man's intention, a circumstance on which great stress is generally laid. It is indeed of no small importance when properly understood, but the import of it is to the last degree ambiguous and obscure. Strictly speaking, nothing can be said to the good or bad, but either in itself, which is the case only with pain or pleasure, or an account of its effect, which the case only with things that are the causes or preventives of pain and pleasure. But in a figurative and less proper way of speech a thing might also be styled good or bad in consideration of its cause. Now the effects of an intention to do such or such an act are the same objects which we have been speaking of under the appellation of its consequences, and the causes of intention are called motives. A man's intention then, on any occasion, may be styled good or bad with reference either to the consequences of the act or with reference to his motives. If it be deemed good or bad in any sense, it must be either because it is deemed to be productive of good or bad consequences, or because it is deemed to originate from a good or from a bad motive. But the goodness or badness of the consequences depend upon the circumstances. Now the circumstances are no object of the intention. A man intends the act, and by his intention produces the act. But as to the circumstances, he does not intend them. He does not, in as much as there are circumstances of it, produce them. If by accident there be a few which he has been instrumental in producing, it has been by former intentions, directed to former acts, productive of those circumstances as the consequences. At the time in question, he takes them as he finds them. Acts with their consequences are objects of the will as well as of the understanding. Circumstances, as such, are object of the understanding only. All he can do with these, as such, is to know or not to know them. In other words, to be conscious of them or not conscious. To the title of consciousness, belong what is to be said of the goodness or badness of a man's intention, as resulting from the consequences of the act, and to the head of motives. What is to be said of his intention, as resulting from the motive. Chapter 9 Of Consciousness So far, with regard to the ways in which the will or intention may be concerned in the production of an incident, we now come to consider the part which the understanding or perceptive faculty may have borne with relation to such incident. A certain act has been done, and that intentionally. That act was attended with certain circumstances. Upon these circumstances depended certain of its consequences, and amongst the rest, all those which were of a nature purely physical. Now then, take any one of these circumstances. It is plain that a man, at the time of doing the act from when such consequences ensued, may have been either conscious with respect to the circumstance or unconscious. In other words, he may either have been aware of the circumstance or not aware. It may either have been present to his mind or not present. In the first case, the act may be said to have been an advised act with respect to that circumstance. In the other case, an unadvised one. There are two points with regard to which an act may have been advised or unadvised. One, the existence of the circumstance itself. Two, the materiality of it. Footnote C Chapter 7 Actions, Paragraph 3 and Footnote It is manifest that with reference to the time of the act, such circumstance may have been either present, past, or future. An act which is unadvised is either heedless or not heedless. It is termed heedless when the case is thought to be such, that a person of ordinary prudence. Footnote C Chapter 6 Sensibility, Paragraph 12 If prompted by an ordinary share of benevolence would have been likely to have bestowed such and so much attention and reflection upon the material circumstances as would have effectively disposed him to prevent the mischievous incident from taking place. Not heedless when the case is not thought to be such as above mentioned. Footnote C B I Title Extinuations and Footnote Again, whether a man did or did not suppose the existence or materiality of a given circumstance, it may be that he did suppose the existence and materiality of some circumstance which either did not exist or which, though existing, was not material. In such case the act may be said to be misadvised with respect to such imagined circumstance, and it may be said that there has been an erroneous position or a misopposal in the case. Now a circumstance, the existence of which is thus erroneously supposed, may be material either, one, in the way of prevention, or two, in that of compensation. It may be said to be material in the way of prevention, when its effect or tendency, had it existed, would have been to prevent the obnoxious consequences, in the way of compensation, when that effect or tendency would have been to produce other consequences, the beneficialness of which would have outweighed the mischievousness of the others. It is manifest that, with reference to the time of the act, such imaginary circumstance may, in either case, have been supposed either to be present, past, or future. To return to the example exhibited in the preceding chapter. Number 10. Tyrol intended to shoot in the direction in which he shot, but he did not know that the king was riding so near that way. In this case, in this case, the act he performed in shooting, the act of shooting, was unadvised, with respect to the existence of the circumstance of the king's being so near riding that way. Number 11. He knew that the king was riding that way, but at the distance at which the king was, he knew not of the probability there was that the arrow would reach him. In this case, the act was unadvised with respect to the materiality of the circumstance. Twelve. Somebody had dipped the arrow in poison without Tyrol's knowing of it. In this case, the act was unadvised with respect to the existence of a past circumstance. Thirteen. At the very instant that Tyrol drew the bow, the king being screened from his view by the foliage of some bushes was riding furiously in such a manner as to meet the arrow in a direct line, which circumstance was also more than Tyrol knew of. In this case, the act was unadvised with respect to the existence of a present circumstance. Fourteen. The king, being at a distance from court, could get nobody to dress his wound till the next day, of which circumstance Tyrol was not aware. In this case, the act was unadvised with respect to what was then future circumstance. Fifteen. Tyrol knew of the king's being riding that way, of his being so near and so force, but being deceived by the foliage of the bushes, he thought he saw a bank between the spots from which he shot and that to which the king was riding. In this case, the act was misadvised, proceeding on this misopposal of a preventive circumstance. Sixteen. Tyrol knew that everything was as above, nor was he deceived by the supposition of any preventive circumstance, but he believed the king to be a user per, and supposed he was coming up to attack a person whom Tyrol believed to be the rightful king and who was riding by Tyrol's side. In this case, the act was also misadvised, but proceeded on the misopposal of a compensative circumstance. Let us observe the connection there is between intentionality and consciousness. When the act itself is intentional and with respect to this existence of all the circumstances advised, as also with respect to the materiality of those circumstances, in relation to a given consequence, and there is no misopposal with regard to any preventive circumstance, that consequence must also be intentional. In other words, advisedness with respect to the circumstances, if clear from the misopposal of any preventive circumstance, extends the intentionality from the act to the consequences. Those consequences may be either directly intentional or only obliquely so, but at any rate, they cannot be but intentional. To go on with the example, if Tyrol intended to shoot in the direction in which the king was riding up and knew that the king was coming to meet the arrow, and knew the probability there was of his being shot in that same part in which he was shot, or in another as dangerous, and with that same degree of force, and so forth, and was not misled by the erroneous supposition of a circumstance by which the shot would have been prevented from taking place, or any such other preventive circumstance, it is plain he could not but have intended the king's death. Perhaps he did not positively wish it, but for all that, in a certain sense, he intended it. What heedlessness is in the case of an unadvised act, rashness is in the case of a misadvised one. A misadvised act, then, may be either rash or not rash. It may be termed rash when the case is thought to be such that a person of ordinary prudence, if prompted by an ordinary share of benevolence, would have employed such and so much attention and reflection to the imagined circumstance, as by discovering to him the nonexistence in probability or immateriality of it, would have effectively disposed him to prevent the mischievous incident from taking place. In ordinary discourse, when a man does an act of which the consequences prove mischievous, it is a common thing to speak of him as having acted with a good intention, or with a bad intention, of his intentions being a good one or a bad one. The appetite's good and bad are all this while applied, we see, to the intention, but the application of them is most commonly governed by a supposition formed with regard to the nature of the motive. The act, though eventually proved mischievous, is said to be done with a good intention, when it is supposed to issue from a motive which is looked upon as a good motive. With a bad intention, when it is supposed to be the result of a motive which is looked upon as a bad motive. But the nature of the consequences intended, and the nature of the motive which gave birth to the intention, are objects which, though intimately connected, are perfectly distinguishable. The intention might therefore, with perfect propriety, be styled a good one, whatever were the motive. It might be styled a good one, when not only the consequences of the act prove mischievous, but the motive, which gave birth to it, was what is called a bad one. To warrant the speaking of the intention as being a good one, it is sufficient if the consequences of the act, had they proved what to the agent they seemed likely to be, would have been of a beneficial nature, and in the same manner the intention may be bad, when not only the consequences of the act prove beneficial, but the motive, which gave birth to it, was a good one. Now, when a man has a mind to speak of your intention as being good or bad, with reference to the consequences, if he speak of it, at all, he must use the word intention, for there is no other. But if a man means to speak of the motive, from which your intention originated, as being a good or bad one, he is certainly not obliged to use the word intention. It is at least as well to use the word motive. By the supposition he means the motive, and very likely he may not mean the intention. For what is true of the one is very often not true of the other. The motive may be good when the intention is bad. The intention may be good when the motive is bad. Whether they are both good or both bad, or the one good and the other bad, makes, as we shall see here after, a very essential difference with regard to the consequences. Footnote. See Chapter 7 Consequences. It is therefore much better, when motive is meant, never to say intention. An example will make this clear. Out of malice, a man prosecutes you for a crime of which he believes you to be guilty, but of which in fact you are not guilty. Here the consequences of his conduct are mischievous, for they are mischievous to you, at any rate, in virtue of the shame and anxiety which you are made to suffer, while the prosecution is depending. To which is to be added, in case of you being convicted, the evil of the punishment. To you, therefore, they are mischievous. Nor is there any one to whom they are beneficial. The man's motive was also what is called a bad one, for malice will be allowed to everybody to be a bad motive. However, the consequences of his conduct, had they proved such as he believed them likely to be, would have been good. For in them would have been included the punishment of a criminal, which is a benefit to all who are exposed to suffer by a crime of the like nature. The intention, therefore, in this case, though not in a common way of speaking, the motive, might be styled a good one. But of motives, more particularly, in the next chapter. In the same sense, the intention, whether it be positively good or no, so long as it is not bad, may be termed innocent. Accordingly, let the consequences have proved mischievous, and let the motive have been what it will. The intention may be termed innocent in either of two cases. One, in the case of unadvisedness, with respect to any of the circumstances on which the mischievousness of the consequences depended. Two, in the case of misadvisedness, with respect to any circumstance which, had it been what it appeared to be, would have served either to prevent or to outweigh the mischief. A few words for the purpose of applying what has been said to the Roman law. Unintentionally, and innocence of intention, seem both to be included in the case of infortunium, where there is neither dolus nor colpa. Unadvisedness, coupled with heedlessness, and misadvisedness coupled with rashness, correspond to the colpa sinidolo. Direct intentionality correspond to dolus. A bleak intentionality seems hardly to have been distinguished from direct. Worried to occur, it would probably be deemed also to correspond to dolus. The division into colpa, lata, lewis, and lewisima is such as nothing certain can correspond to. What is it that it expresses? A distinction, not in the case itself, but only in the sentiments which any person, a judge, for instance, may find himself disposed to entertain with relation to it, supposing it already distinguished in two three subordinate cases by other means. The word dolus seems ill enough contrived, the word colpa, as indifferently. Dolus, upon any other occasion, would be understood to imply deceit, concealment, footnote, cbi, title theft, verbal, amenable, and footnote, clandestinity, footnote, dolus and wirtus, quis in osti requirit, by Virgil, doloi ehecai am fadon, by homa, and footnote. But here it is extended to open force. Colpa, upon any other occasion, would be understood to extend to blame of every kind. It would therefore include dolus, footnote. I pretend not here to give any determinate explanation of a set of words of which the great misfortune is that the import of them is confused and indeterminate. I speak only by approximation to attempt to determine the precise import that has been given them by a hundredth's pant of the authors that have used them, would be an endless task, would any one talk intelligibly on this subject in Latin? Let him throw out dolus altogether. Let him keep colpa, for the purpose of expressing not the case itself, but the sentiment that is entertained concerning a case described by other means. For intentionality, let him coin a word boldly, and say intentionalitas, for unintentionality, non-intentionalitas. For unadvisedness, he has already the word incitia, though the words imprudencia, inobservancia, where it's not for the other senses they are used in, would do better. For unadvisedness, coupled with heedlessness, let him say incitia culpabilis, for unadvisedness without heedlessness, incitia inculpabilis. For misadvisedness, coupled with rashness, error culpabilis, error temerarius, or error com temeritate. For misadvisedness, without rashness, error inculpabilis, error non temeritarius, or error sine temeritate. It is not on frequent likewise to meet with the phrase malo animo, a phrase still more indeterminate, if possible, than any of the former. It seems to have reference either to intentionality, or to consciousness, or to the motive, or to the disposition, or to any two or more of these taken together. Nobody can tell which these being objects which seem to have never either to been properly distinguished and defined. The above mentioned definitions and distinctions are far from being mere matters of speculation. They are capable of the most extensive and constant application, as well as to moral discourse, as to legislative practice. Upon the degree and bias of iman's intention, upon the absence or presence of consciousness or misopposal, depend a great part of the good and bad, more especially of the bad consequences of an act. And on this, as well as other grounds, a great part of the demand for punishment. The presence of intention with regard to such or such a consequence, and of consciousness with regard to such or such a circumstance, of the act, will form so many criminative circumstances. Or essential ingredients in the composition of this or that offense. Applied to other circumstances, consciousness will form a ground of aggravation, annexable to the like offense. In almost all cases, the absence of intention with regard to certain consequences and the absence of consciousness, or the presence of misopposal, with regard to certain circumstances, will constitute so many grounds of extenuation. End Footnote Section 1 Different Senses of the Word Motive Footnote Note by the author, July 1822. For a tabular simultaneous view of the whole list of motives, in conjunction with the correspondent pleasures and pains, interests and desires, see by the same author, table of the springs of actions, etc., with explanatory notes and observations, London, 1817, Hunter St. Paul's Churchyard, 8 volumes, page 32. The word inducement has aflate presented itself as being in its signification more comprehensive than the word motive, and on some occasions more opposite. End Footnote It is an acknowledged truth that every kind of act whatever, and consequently every kind of offense is apt to assume a different character, and be attended with different effects according to the nature of the motive which gives birth to it. This makes it requisite to take a view of the several motives by which human conduct is liable to be influenced. By a motive, in the most extensive sense in which the word is ever used with reference to a thinking being is meant anything that can contribute to give birth to or even to prevent any kind of action. Now the actions of a thinking being is the act either of the body or only of the mind, and an act of the mind is an act either of the intellectual faculty or of the will. Acts of the intellectual faculty will sometimes rest in the understanding merely, without exerting any influence in the production of any acts of the will. Motives, which are not of a nature to influence any other act than those, may be styled purely speculative motives, or motives resting in speculation. But as to these acts, neither do they exercise any influence over external acts or over their consequences, nor consequently over any pain or any pleasure that may be in the number of such consequences. Now it is only on account of their tendency to produce either pain or pleasure that any acts can be material. With acts therefore that rest purely in the understanding we have not hear any concern, nor therefore with any object, if any such there be, which in the character of a motive can have no influence on any other acts than those. The motives with which alone we have any concern are such a czar of a nature to act upon the will. By a motive then, in this sense of the word, is to be understood anything whatsoever, which, by influencing the will of a sensitive being, is supposed to serve as a means of determining him to act, or voluntarily, to forbear to act upon any occasion. Footnote, when the effect or tendency of a motive is to determine a man to forbear to act, it may seem improper to make use of the term motive. Since motive, properly speaking, means that which disposes an object to move. We must however use that improper term, or a term which, though proper enough, is caused in use, the word determinative, by way of justification, or at least apology, for the popular usage in this behalf, it may be observed that even forbearance to act, or the negation of motion, that is, of bodily motion, supposes an act done when such forbearance is voluntary. It supposes to wit an act of the will, which is as much a positive act, as much motion, as any other act of the thinking substance. And footnote. Motives of this sort, in contradistinction to the former, may be styled practical motives, or motives applying to practice. Owing to the poverty and unsettled state of language, the word motive is employed indiscriminately to denote two kinds of objects, which, for the better understanding of the subject, it is necessary should be distinguished. On some occasions it is employed to denote any of those really existing incidents from whence the act in question is supposed to take its rise. The sense it bears on these occasions may be styled its literal or unfigurative sense. On other occasions it is employed to denote a certain fictitious entity, a passion, an affection of the mind, an ideal being, which, upon the happening of any such incident, is considered as operating upon the mind, and prompting it to take that course, towards which it is impilled by the influence of such incident. Motives of this case are avarice, indolence, benevolence, and so forth, as we shall see more particularly further on. This latter may be styled the figurative sense of the term motive. As to the real incidents to which the name of motive is also given, these two are of two very different kinds. They may be either, one, the internal perception of any individual lot of pleasure or pain, the expectation of which is looked upon as calculated to determine you to act in such or such a manner, as the pleasure of acquiring such a sum of money, the pain of exerting yourself on such an occasion, and so forth, or two, any external event, the happening whereof, is regarded as having a tendency to bring about the perception of such pleasure or such pain, for instance, the coming up of a lottery ticket, by which the possession of the money devolves to you, or the breaking out of a fire in the house you are in, which makes it necessary for you to quit it. The former kind of motives may be termed interior, or internal, the latter exterior, or external. Two other senses of the term motive need also to be distinguished. Motive refers necessarily to action. It is a pleasure, pain, or other event that prompts to action. Motive then, in one sense of the word, must be previous to such event. But for a man to be governed by any motive, he must in every case look beyond that event which is called inaction. He must look to the consequences of it. And it is only in this way that the idea of pleasure, of pain, or of any other event can give birth to it. He must look, therefore, in every case, to some event posterior to the act in contemplation, an event which, as yet, exists not, but stands only in prospect. Now, as it is in all cases difficult, and in most cases unnecessary, to distinguish between objects so intimately connected, as the posterior possible object which is thus looked forward to, and the present existing object, or event which takes place upon a man's looking forward to the other, they are both of them spoken of under the same appellation, motive. To distinguish them, the one first mentioned may be termed a motive in prospect, the other a motive in essay. And under each of these denominations will come as well exterior as internal motives. A fire breaks out in your neighbor's house. You are under apprehension of its extending to your own. You are apprehensive, that if you stay in, you will be burnt. You recordingly run out of it. This, then, is the act. The others are all motives to it. The event of the fires breaking out in your neighbor's house is an external motive, and that in essay. The idea, or belief, of the probability of the fires extending to your own house, that of your being burnt if you continue, and the pain you feel at the thought of such a catastrophe, are all so many internal events, but still in essay. The event of the fires actually extending to your own house, and that of your being actually burnt by it, external motives in prospect. The pain you would feel at seeing your house burning, and the pain you would feel while you yourself were burning, internal motives in prospect. Which events, according as the matter turns out, may come to be in essay. But then, of course, they will cease to act as motives. Of all these motives which stand nearest to the act, to the production of which they all contribute, is that internal motive in essay which consists in the expectation of the internal motive in prospect. The pain or uneasiness you feel at the thought of being burnt. Footnote. Whether it be the expectation of being burnt, or the pain that accompanies that expectation, that is, the immediate internal motives spoken of may be difficult to determine. It may even be questions, perhaps, whether they are distinct entities. Both questions, however, seem to be mere questions of words, and the solution of them altogether immaterial. Even the other kinds of motives, though for some purposes they demand a separate consideration, are, however, so intimately allied that it will often be scarce practicable, and not always material, to avoid confounding them, as they have always hitherto been confounded. All other motives are more or less remote. The motives in prospect, in proportion as the period at which they are expected to happen, is more distant from the period at which the act takes place, and consequently, later in point of time. The motives in the essay, in proportion as they also are more distant from that period, are consequently rather earlier in point of time. Footnote. Under the term essay must be included, as well past existence, with reference to a given period at its present. They are equally real in comparison with what is at yet but future. A language is materially deficient in not enabling us to distinguish which precision between existence as opposed to unreality and present existence as opposed to past. The word existence in English and essay adopted by lawyers from the Latin have the inconvenience of appearing to confine the existence in question to some single period considered as being present. Footnote. It has already been observed that with motives of which the influence terminates altogether in the understanding, we have nothing here to do. If then, amongst objects that are spoken of as motives, with reference to the understanding, there be any which concern us here. It is only in as far as such objects may, through the medium of the understanding, exercise an influence over the will. It is in this way, and in this way only, that any objects, in virtue of any tendency they may have to influence the sentiment of belief, may, in a practical sense, act in the character of motives. Any objects, by tending to induce a belief concerning the existence, actual, or probable, of a practical motive, that is, concerning the probability of a motive in prospect or the existence of a motive in essay, may exercise an influence on the will and rank with those other motives that have been placed under the name of practical. The pointing out of motives such as these is what we frequently mean when we talk of giving reasons. Your neighbor's house is on fire as before. I observe to you that at the lower part of your neighbor's house is some woodwork which joins on to yours, that the flames have caught this woodwork and so forth, which I do in order to dispose you to believe, as I believe, that if you stay in your house much longer you will be burnt. In doing this then I suggest motives to your understanding, which motives, by the tendency they have to give birth to or strengthen a pain, which operates upon you in the character of an internal motive in essay, join their force and act as motives upon the will. Section 2 No motives, either constantly good or constantly bad. In all this chain of motives, the principle or original link seems to be the last internal motive in prospect. It is to this that all the other motives in prospect owe their materiality and the immediately acting motive its existence. This motive in prospect we see is always some pleasure or some pain, some pleasure which the acting question is expected to be a means of continuing or producing, some pain which it is expected to be a means of discontinuing or preventing. A motive is substantially nothing more than pleasure or pain operating in a certain manner. Now pleasure is in itself a good, nay, even setting aside immunity from pain the only good. Pain is in itself an evil, and indeed, without exception, the only evil, or else the words good and evil have no meaning. And this is alike true of every sort of pain and of every sort of pleasure. It follows therefore immediately and incontestably that there is no such thing as any sort of motive that is in itself a bad one. Footnote Let a man's motive be ill will, call it even malice, envy, cruelty. It is still the kind of pleasure that is his motive. The pleasure he takes at the thought of the pain which he sees or expects to see, his adversary undergo. Now even this wretched pleasure, taken by itself, is good. It may be faint, it may be short, it must, at any rate, be impure. Yet, while it lasts, and before any bad consequences arrive, it is as good as any other that is not more intense. End footnote It is common, however, to speak of actions as proceeding from good or bad motives, in which case the motives meant are such as are internal. The expression is far from being an accurate one, and as it is apt to occur in the consideration of most every kind of offense, it will be requisite to settle the precise meaning of it, and observe how far it quadrates with the truth of things. With respect to goodness and badness, as it is with everything else that it's not itself either pain or pleasure, so it is with motives. If they are good or bad, it is only on account of their effects, good on account of their tendency to produce pleasure or avert pain, bad on account of their tendency to produce pain or avert pleasure. Now the case is that from one and the same motive, and from every kind of motive, may precede actions that are good, others that are bad, and others that are indifferent. This we shall proceed to show with respect to all the different kinds of motives, as determined by the various kinds of pleasures and pains. Such an analysis, useful as it is, will be found to be a matter of no small difficulty, owing, in great measure, to a certain perversity of structure, which prevails more or less throughout all languages. To speak of motives, as of anything else, one must call them by their names. But the misfortune is that it is rare to meet with a motive of which the name expresses that and nothing more. Commonly, along with the very name of the motive, is tacitly involved a proposition imputing to it a certain quality, a quality which, in many cases, will appear to include that very goodness or badness, concerning which we are here inquiring whether, properly speaking, it be or be not imputable to motives. To use the common phrase, in most cases, the name of the motive is a word which is employed either only in a good sense or else only in a bad sense. Now when a word is spoken of as being used in a good sense, all that is necessarily meant is this, that in conjunction with the idea of the object it is put to signify, it conveys an idea of approbation, that is, of a pleasure or satisfaction entertained by the person who employs the term at the thoughts of such object. In like manner, when a word is spoken of as being used in a bad sense, all that is necessarily meant is of a displeasure entertained by the person who employs the term at the thoughts of such object. Now the circumstance on which such approbation is grounded will, as naturally as any other, be the opinion of the goodness of the object in question, as above explained. Such, at least it must be, upon the principle of utility. So, on the other hand, the circumstance on which any such disapprobation is grounded will, as naturally as any other, be the opinion of the badness of the object, such, at least it must be, in as far as the principle of utility is taken for the standard. Now there are certain motives which, unless in a few particular cases, have scarcely any other name to be expressed by, but such a word as is used only in a good sense. This is the case, for example, with the motives of piety and honor. And the consequence of this is that if, in speaking of such a motive, a man should have occasion to apply the epithet bad to any action which he mentions as apt to result from it, he must appear to be guilty of a contradiction in terms. But the names of motives which have scarcely any other name to be expressed by, but such a word as is used only in a bad sense, are many more. Footnote For the reason, see Chapter 11, Dispositions, Paragraph 17, and Footnote. This is the case, for example, with the motives of lust and avarice. And accordingly, if, in speaking of any such motive, a man should have occasion to apply the epithets good or indifferent to any actions which he mentions as apt to result from it, he must here also appear to be guilty of a similar contradiction. Footnote To this imperfection of language, and nothing more, are to be attributed, in great measure, the violent clamors that have from time to time been raised against those ingenious moralists who, travelling out of the beaten tract of speculation, have found more or less difficult in disentangling themselves from the shackles of ordinary language, such as Rochefoucault, Mondeville, and Helvetius. To the unsoundness of their opinions, and with still greater injustice, to the corruption of their hearts, was often imputed, that was most commonly owing either to a want of skill, in matters of language, on the part of the author, or a want of discernment, possibly now and then, in some instances, a want of property, on the part of the commentator. And Footnote This perverse association of ideas cannot, it is evident, but through great difficulties in the way of the inquiry now before us. Confining himself to the language most in use, a man can scarce avoid running, in appearance, into perpetual contradictions. His propositions will appear, on one hand, repugnant to truth, and on the other hand, adverse to utility. As paradoxes, they will excite contempt, as mischievous paradoxes, indignation. For the truth he labors to convey, however important, and however salutary, his reader is never the better, and he himself is much the worse. To aviate this inconvenience completely, he has but this one unpleasant remedy, to lay aside the old phraseology, and invent a new one. Happy the man whose language is ductile enough to permit him this resource, to palliate the inconvenience, where that method of obviating it is impracticable, he has nothing left for it but to enter into a long discussion, to state the whole matter at large, to confess that for the sake of promoting the purposes, he has violated the established laws of language, and to throw himself upon the mercy of his readers. Footnote Happily, language is not always so intractable. But that's by making use of two words instead of one. A man may avoid the inconvenience of fabricating words that are absolutely new. Thus, instead of the word lust, by putting together two words in common use, he may frame the neutral expression, sexual desire. Instead of the word avarice, by putting together two other words also in common use, he may frame the neutral expression, pecuniary interest. This, accordingly, is the course which I have taken. In these instances, indeed, even the combination is not novel. The only novelty there is consists in the steady adherence to the one neutral expression, by rejecting altogether the terms, of which the import is infected by advantages and unsuitable ideas. In the catalogue of motives, corresponding to the several sorts of pains and pleasures, I have inserted such as have occurred to me. I cannot pretend to warrant it complete. To make sure of rendering it so, the only way would be to turn over the dictionary from beginning to end, an operation which, in a view to perfection, would be necessary for more purposes than this. End Footnote End of Part A of Section 10 Section 10 Part B of an Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by J. C. Guan An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation by Jeremy Bentham Chapter 10 Section 3 Catalogue of Motives Corresponding to That of Pleasures and Pains From the pleasures of the senses, considered in the gross, results the motive which, in a neutral sense, may be termed physical desire. In a bad sense, it is termed sensuality. Name used in a good sense, it has none. Of this, nothing can be determined, till it be considered separately, with reference to the several species of pleasures to which it corresponds. In particular, then, to the pleasures of the taste or palette corresponds a motive, which in a neutral sense, having received no name that can serve to express it in all cases, can only be termed by circumlocution the love of the pleasures of the palette. In particular cases, it is styled hunger. In others, thirst. Hunger and thirst, considered in the light of motives, import not so much the desire of a particular kind of pleasure, as the desire of removing a positive kind of pain. They do not extend to the desire of that kind of pleasure, which depends on the choice of foods and liquors. End footnote. The love of good cheer expresses this motive, but seems to go beyond intimating that the pleasure is to be partaken of in company, and involving a kind of sympathy. In a bad sense, it is styled in some cases greediness, voraciousness, gluttony. In others, principally when applied to children, licorice-ness. It may in some cases also be represented by the word daintiness. Name, used in a good sense, it has none. One, a boy, who does not want, for victuals, steals a cake out of a pastry cook's shop, and eats it. In this case, his motive will be universally deemed a bad one, and if it be asked what it is, it may be answered perhaps, licorice-ness. Two, a boy buys a cake out of a pastry cook's shop, and eats it. In this case, his motive can scarcely be looked upon as either good or bad, unless his masters shall be out of humour with him, and then perhaps he may call it licorice-ness, as before. In both cases, however, his motive is the same. It is neither more or less than the motive corresponding to the pleasures of the palate. Footnote. It will not be worthwhile, in every case, to give an instance in which the action may be indifferent, if good as well as bad actions may result from the same motive. It is easy to conceive, that also may be indifferent. And a footnote. To the pleasures of the sexual sense corresponds the motive which, in a neutral sense, may be termed sexual desire. In a bad sense, it is spoken of under the name of a licorice-ness, and a variety of other names of reprobation. Name, used in a good sense, it has none. Footnote. Love indeed includes sometimes this idea, but then it can never answer the purpose of exhibiting it separately, since there are three motives, at least, that may all of them be included in it, besides this. The love of beauty, corresponding to the pleasures of the eye, and the motives corresponding to those of enmity and benevolence, we speak of the love of children, of the love of parents, of the love of God. These pious uses protect the appellation, and preserve it from the ignominy poured forth upon its profane associates. Even central love would not answer the purpose, since that would include the love of beauty. End footnote. One. A man ravishes a virgin. In this case, the motive is, without scruple, termed by the name of lust, licorice-ness, and so forth, and is universally looked upon as a bad one. Two. The same man, at another time, exercises the rights of marriage with his wife. In this case, the motive is accounted perhaps a good one, or at least indifferent, and here people would scruple to call it by any of those names. In both cases, however, the motive may be precisely the same. In both cases, it may be neither more nor less than sexual desire. To the pleasures of curiosity corresponds the motives, known by the same name, and which may be otherwise called the love of novelty, or the love of experiment, and on particular occasions sport, and sometimes play. One. A boy, in order to divert himself, reads an improving book. The motive is accounted perhaps a good one, at any rate, not a bad one. Two. He sets his top a spinning. The motive is deemed, at any rate, not a bad one. Three. He sets loose a mad ox among a crowd. His motive is now perhaps termed an abominable one. Yet in all three cases, the motive may be the very same. It may be neither more nor less than curiosity. As to the other pleasures of sense, they are of too little consequence to have given any separate denomination to the corresponding motives. To the pleasures of wealth corresponds the sort of motive which, in a neutral sense, may be termed pecuniary interest. In a bad sense, it is termed, in some cases, avarice, covetousness, rapacity, or lucre. In other cases, negriliness. In a good sense, but only in particular cases, economy, and frugality. And in some cases, the word industry may be applied to it, in a sense nearly indifferent, but rather bad than otherwise. It is styled, though only in particular cases, parsimony. One. For money, you gratify a man's hatred by putting his adversary to death. Two. For money, you plow his field for him. In the first case, you motive is termed lucre, and is accounted corrupt and abominable. And in the second, for want of a proper appellation, it is styled industry, and is looked upon as innocent at least, if not meritorious. Yet the motive is in both cases precisely the same. It is neither more nor less than pecuniary interest. The pleasures of skill are neither distinct enough nor of consequence enough to have given any name to the corresponding motive. To the pleasures of amity, corresponding motive which, in a neutral sense, may be termed the desire of ingratiating oneself. In a bad sense, it is in certain cases styled servility. In a good sense, it has no name that is peculiar to it. In the cases in which it has been looked on with a favorable eye, it has seldom been distinguished from the motive of sympathy or benevolence, with which, in such cases, it is commonly associated. One. To acquire the affections of a woman before marriage, to preserve them afterwards, you do every thing that is consistent with other duties, to make her happy. In this case, your motive is looked upon as laudable, though there is no name for it. Two. For the same purpose, you poison a woman with whom she is at enmity. In this case, your motive is looked upon as abominable, though still there is no name for it. Three. To acquire or preserve the favor of a man who is richer or more powerful than yourself, you make yourself subservient to his pleasures. Let them even be lawful pleasures, if people choose to attribute your behavior to this motive, you will not get them to find any other name, for it, than servility. Yet, in all three cases, the motive is the same. It is neither more nor less than the desire of ingratiating yourself. To the pleasures of moral sanction, or as they may otherwise be called, the pleasure of a good name, corresponds a motive which, in a neutral sense, has scarcely yet obtained any adequate appellative. It may be styled the love of reputation. It is nearly related to the motive last preceding, being neither more nor less than the desire of ingratiating oneself with, or, as in this case we should rather say, of recommending oneself to the world at large. In a good sense, it is termed honor, or the sense of honor, or rather the word honor is introduced somehow or other upon the occasion of its being brought to view. For, in strictness, the word honor is put rather to signify that imaginary object which a man is spoken of as possessing upon the occasion of his obtaining a conspicuous share of the pleasures that are in question. In particular cases, it is styled the love of glory. In a bad sense, it is styled in some cases, false honor. In others, pride. In others, vanity. In a sense not decidedly bad, but rather bad than otherwise, ambition. In an indifferent sense, in some cases, the love of fame. In others, the sense of shame. And as the pleasures belonging to the moral sanction run undistinguished into the pains derived from the same source, footnote, c. 6 pleasures and pains, paragraph 24, note, and footnote. It may also be styled, in some cases, the fear of dishonor, the fear of disgrace, the fear of infamy, the fear of ignominy, or the fear of shame. 1. You have received an affront from a man. According to the custom of the country, in order, on the one hand, to save yourself from the shame of being thought to bear it patiently, footnote, a man's bearing an affront patiently, that is, without taking this method of doing what is called wiping it off, is thought to import one or other of two things. Either that he does not possess that sensibility to the pleasures and pains of the moral sanction, which, in order to render himself a respectable member of society, a man ought to possess, or that he does not possess courage enough to stake his life for the chance of gratifying that resentment which a proper sense of the value of those pleasures and those pains it is thought would not fail to inspire. True it is that there are diverse other motives, but any of which the same conduct might equally be produced, the motives corresponding to the religious sanction, and the motives that come under the head of benevolence, piety towards God, the practice in question being generally looked upon as repugnant to the dictates of the religious sanction, sympathy for your antagonist himself, whose life would be put to hazard at the same time with your own, sympathy for his connections, the persons who are dependent on him in the way of support, or connected with him in the way of sympathy, sympathy for your own connections, and even sympathy for the public, in cases where the man is such that the public appears to have a material interest in his life. But in comparison with the love of life, the influence of the religious sanction is known to be in general but weak, especially among people of those classes who are here in question, a sure proof of which is the prevalence of this very custom. Where it is so strong as to preponder it, it is so rare that perhaps it gives a man a place in the calendar, and at any rate exalts him to the rank of martyr. Moreover, the instance in which either private benevolence or public spirit predominate over the love of life will also naturally be but rare, and owing to the general propensity to detraction, it will also be much rarer for them to be thought to do so. Now, when three or more motives, any of them capable of producing a given mode of conduct, apply at once, that which appears to be the most powerful, is that which will, of course, be deemed to have actually done the most. And, as the bulk of mankind, on this and on other occasions, are disposed to decide parametrarily upon superficial estimates, it will generally be looked upon as having done the whole. The consequence is that when a man of a certain rank for bears to take this chance of revenging in affront, his conduct will, by most people, be imputed to the love of life, which, when it predominates over the love of reputation, is, by a not unsalutory association of ideas, stigmatized with the reproachful name of cowardice. End footnote. On the other hand, to obtain the reputation of courage, you challenge him to fight with mortal weapons. In this case, your motive will, by some people, be accounted laudable and sound honour. By others, it will be accounted blamable, and these, if they call it honour, will prefix an epitode of improbation to it and call it false honour. Two. In order to obtain a post of rank and dignity, and thereby, to increase the respects paid you by the public, you bribe the electors who are to confer it, or the judge before whom the title to it is in dispute. In this case, your motive is commonly accounted corrupt and abominable, and is styled, perhaps, by some such name as dishonest or corrupt ambition, as there is no single name for it. Three. In order to obtain the good will of the public, you bestow a large sum in works of private charity or public utility. In this case, people will be apt not to agree about your motive. Your enemies will put a bad colour upon it, and call it ostentation. Your friends, to save you from the reproach, will choose to impute your conduct, not to this motive, but to some others such as that of charity, the denomination in this case given to private sympathy, or that of public spirit. Four. A king, for the sake of gaining the admiration annexed to the name of conqueror, we will suppose power and resentment out of the question, engages his kingdom in a bloody war. His motive, by the multitude, whose sympathy for millions is easily over-brown by the pleasure which their imagination finds in gaping at any novelty they observe in the conduct of a single person, is deemed an admirable one. Man of feeling and reflection, who disapprove of the dominion exercised by this motive on this occasion, without always perceiving that it is the same motive which in other instances meets with their probation, deem it an abominable one, and because the multitude, who are the manufacturers of language, have not given them a simple name to call it by, they will call it by some such compound name as the love of false glory or false ambition. Yet, in all four cases, the motive is the same. It is neither more nor less than the love of reputation. To the pleasures of power corresponds the motive which, in a neutral sense, may be termed the love of power. People, who are out of humor with it sometimes, call it the lust of power. In a good sense, it is scarcely provided with a name. In certain cases, this motive, as well as the love of reputation, are confounded under the same name, ambition. This is not to be wondered at, considering the intimate connection there is between the two motives in many cases. Since it commonly happens that the same object which affords the one of pleasure affords the other sort at the same time. For instance, offices, which are at once posts of honor and places of trust. And since at any rate, reputation is the road to power. One, if in order to gain a place in administration, you poison the man who occupies it. Two, if in the same view you propose a salutary plan for the advancement of the public welfare, your motive is, in both cases, the same. Yet in the first case, it is accounted criminal and abominable. In the second case, allowable and even laudable. To the pleasures, as well as to the pains of the religious sanction, corresponds a motive which has, strictly speaking, no perfectly neutral name applicable to all cases, unless the word religion can't be admitted in this character. Though the word religion, strictly speaking, seems to me not so much the motive itself as a kind of fictitious personage by whom the motive is supposed to be created, or an assemblage of acts supposed to be dictated by that personage. Nor does it seem to be completely settled into a neutral sense. In the same sense, it is also, in some cases, styled religious zeal. In other cases, the fear of God. The love of God, though commonly contrasted with the fear of God, does not come strictly under this head. It coincides properly with a motive of a different denomination, this a kind of sympathy or goodwill which has the deity for its object. In a good sense, it is styled devotion, piety, and pious zeal. In a bad sense, it is styled, in some cases, superstition, or superstitious zeal. In other cases, fanaticism, or fanatic zeal. In a sense, not decidedly bad, because not appropriated to this motive, enthusiasm, or enthusiastic zeal. 1. In order to obtain the favor of the Supreme Being, a man assassins his lawful sovereign. In this case, the motive is now almost universally looked upon as abominable, and is termed fanaticism. Formerly, it was by great numbers, accounted laudable, and was by them called pious zeal. 2. In the same view, a man lashes himself with thongs. In this case, in yonder house, the motive is accounted laudable, and is called pious zeal. In the next house, it is deemed contemptible, and called superstition. 3. In the same view, a man eats a piece of bread, or at least what to external appearance is a piece of bread, with certain ceremonies. In this case, in yonder house, his motive is looked upon as laudable, and is styled piety, and devotion. In the next house, it is deemed abominable, and styled superstition, as before. Perhaps even, it is absurdly styled in piety. 4. In the same view, a man holds a cow by the tail while it is dying. On the same, the motive would in this case be deemed contemptible, and called superstition. On the Ganges, it is deemed meritorious, and called piety. 5. In the same view, a man bestows a large sum in works of charity, or public utility. In this case, the motive is styled laudable, by those at least to whom the works in question appear to come under this description, and by these at least it would be styled piety. Yet, in all these cases, the motive is precisely the same. It is neither more nor less than the motive belonging to the religious sanction. Footnote. I am aware, or at least I hope, that people in general, when they see the matter thus stated, will be ready to acknowledge that the motive in these cases, whatever be the tendency of the acts which it reproduces, is not a bad one. But this will not render it less true, that hitherto, in popular discourses, it has been common for men to speak of acts which they could not, but acknowledge, to have originated from this source, as proceeding from a bad motive. The same observation will apply to many of the other cases. End Footnote. To the pleasures of sympathy corresponds the motive which, in a neutral sense, is termed goodwill. The word sympathy may also be used on this occasion, though the sense of it seems to be rather more extensive. In a good sense, it is thought benevolence, in its certain cases, philanthropy, and in a figurative way, brotherly love, in others, humanity, in others, charity, in others, pity, and compassion, in others, mercy, in others, gratitude, in others tenderness, in others, patriotism, in others, public spirit. Love is also employed in this, as in so many other senses. In a bad sense, it has no name applicable to it, in all cases. In particular cases, it is thought partiality. The word zeal, with certain epithets prefixed to it, might also be employed, sometimes on this occasion, though the sense of it be more extensive, applying sometimes to ill as well as to goodwill. It is thus we speak of party zeal, national zeal, and public zeal. The word attachment is also used with the like epithets. We also say family attachment. The French expression, esprit de corps, for which, as yet, there seems to be scarcely any name in English, might be rendered, in some cases, though rather inadequately, by the terms corporation spirit, corporation attachment, or corporation zeal. A man who has set a town on fire is apprehended and committed. Out of regard or compassion for him, you help him to break prison. In this case, the generality of people will probably scarcely know whether to condemn your motive or to applaud it. Those who condemn your conduct will be disposed rather to impute it to some other motive. If they stall at benevolence or compassion, they will be for prefixing an epithet, and call it false benevolence or false compassion. Footnote. Among the Greeks, perhaps the motive and the conduct they gave birth to would, in such a case, have been rather approved than disapproved of. It seems to have been deemed an act of heroism on the part of Hercules to have delivered his friend Thesis from hell. Though divine justice, which held him there, should naturally have been regarded as being at least upon a footing with human justice. But, to divine justice, even when acknowledged under that character, the respect paid at that time of day does not seem to have been very profound or well settled. At present, the respect paid to it is profound and settled enough, though the name of it is but too often applied to dictates which could have had no other origin than the worst sort of human caprice. End footnote. Two. The man is taken again, and is put upon this trial. To save him, you swore falsely on his favor. People, who would not call your motive a bad one before, will perhaps call it so now. Three. A man is at law with you about an estate. He has no right to it. The judge knows this. Yet, having an esteem or affection for your adversary, a judge is it to him. In this case, the motive is by everybody deemed abominable, and is termed injustice and partiality. Four. You detect a statesman in receiving bribes. Out of regard to the public interest, you give information of it, and prosecute him. In this case, by all who acknowledge your conduct to have originated from this motive, your motive will be deemed a laudable one, and styled public spirit. But his friends and adherents will not choose to account for your conduct in any such manner. They will rather attribute it to party enmity. Five. You find a man on the point of starving. You relieve him, and save his life. In this case, your motive will, by everybody, be accounted laudable, and it will be termed compassion, pity, charity, benevolence. Yet, in all these cases, the motive is the same. It is neither more nor less than the motive of goodwill. To the pleasures of malevolence, or antipathy, corresponds the motive which, in a neutral sense, is termed antipathy or displeasure, and in particular cases, dislike, aversion, abhorrence, and indignation. In a neutral sense, or perhaps in a sense leaning a little to the bad side, ill-will, and in particular cases, anger, wrath, and enmity. In a bad sense, it is styled in different cases, wrath, spleen, ill-humour, hatred, malice, ranker, rage, fury, cruelty, tyranny, envy, jealousy, revenge, misanthropy, and by other names, which it is hardly worthwhile to endeavor to collect. Footnote. Here, as elsewhere, it may be observed that the same word which are mentioned as names of motives are also many of them names of passions, appetites, and affections, fictitious entities, which are framed only by considering pleasures or pains in some particular point of view. Some of them are also names of moral qualities. This branch of nomenclature is remarkably entangled. To unravel it, completely, would take up a whole volume, not a syllable of which would belong properly to the present design. Like good will, it is used with appetites expressive of the persons who are the objects of the affection. Hence, we hear of party enmity, party rage, and so forth. In a good sense, there seems to be no single name for it. In compound expressions, it may be spoken of in such a sense by epithets such as just and laudable, prefixed to words that are used in a neutral or nearly neutral sense. One, you rob a man, he prosecutes you, and gets you punished. Out of resentment, you set upon him and hang him with your own hands. In this case, your motive will universally be deemed detestable, and will be called malice, cruelty, revenge, and so forth. Two, a man has stolen a little money from you. Out of resentment, you prosecute him, and get him hanged by cause of law. In this case, people will probably be a little divided in their opinions about your motive. Your friends will deem it a laudable one, and call it a just or laudable resentment. Your enemies will probably be disposed to deem it blamable, and call it cruelty, malice, revenge, and so forth. To aviate which, your friends will try perhaps to change the motive, and call it public spirit. Three, a man has murdered your father. Out of resentment, you prosecute him, and get him put to death in cause of law. In this case, your motive will be universally deemed a laudable one, and styled, as before, a just or laudable resentment. And your friends, in order to bring forward the more amiable principle from which the malevolent one, which was your immediate motive, took its rise, will be for keeping the latter out of sight, speaking of the former only, under some such name as filial piety. Yet, in all these cases, the motive is the same. It is neither more nor less than the motive of ill will. To the several sorts of pains, or at least to all such of them, as are conceived to subsist in an intense degree, and to deaths, which, as far as we can perceive, is determination of all the pleasures, as well as all the pains we are acquainted with, corresponds to motive, which in a neutral sense is styled in general self-preservation, the desire of preserving oneself from the pain or evil in question. Now, in many instances, the desire of pleasure, and the sense of pain, run into one another undistinguishably. Self-preservation, therefore, where the degree of the pain which it corresponds to, is but slight, will scarcely be distinguishable by any precise line, from the motive corresponding to the several sorts of pleasures. Thus, in the case of the pains of hunger and thirst, physical want will in many cases be scarcely distinguishable from physical desire. In some cases, it is styled still in a neutral sense, self-defense. Between the pleasures and pains of the moral and religious sanctions, and, consequently, of the motives that correspond to them, as likewise, between the pleasures of enmity, and the pains of enmity, this want of boundaries has already been taken notice of. Footnote, C Chapter 5, Pleasures and Pains, Paragraph 24, 25, and Footnote. The case is the same between the pleasures of wealth and the pains of privation corresponding to those pleasures. There are many cases, therefore, in which it will be difficult to distinguish the motive of self-preservation from pecuniary interest, from the desire of ingratiating oneself, from the love of reputation, and from religious hope, in which case those more specific and explicit names will naturally be preferred to this general and inexplicit one. There are also a multitude of compound names, which either are already in use, or might be devised to distinguish the specific branches of the motive of self-preservation from those several motives of a pleasurable origin, such as the fear of poverty, the fear of losing such or such a man's regard, the fear of shame, and the fear of God. Moreover, to the evil of death corresponds, in a neutral sense, the love of life, in a bad sense, cowardice, which corresponds also to the pains of the senses, at least one considered as subsisting in an acute degree. There seems to be no name for the love of life that has a good sense, unless it be the vague and general name of prudence. 1. To save yourself from being hanged, pilloried, imprisoned, or fined, you poison the only person who can give evidence against you. In this case, your motive will universally be styled unbominable. But as the term self-preservation has no bad sense, people will not care to make this use of it. They will be apt rather to change the motive, and call it malice. 2. A woman, having been just delivered of an illegitimate child, in order to save herself from shame, destroys the child, or abandons it. In this case also, people will call the motive a bad one, and not caring to speak of it under a neutral name, they will be apt to change the motive, and call it, by some such name, as cruelty. 3. To save the expense of a half-penny, you suffer a man whom you could preserve at that expense to perish with want before your eyes. In this case, your motive will be universally deemed an abominable one, and, to avoid calling it by so indulgent a name as self-preservation, people will be apt to call it avarice, and niggerliness, with which indeed, in this case, it indistinguishably coincides. For the sake of finding a more reproachful appellation, they will be apt likewise to change the motive, and term it cruelty. 4. To put an end to the pain of hunger, you steal a loaf of bread. In this case, your motive will scarcely perhaps be deemed a very bad one, and in order to express more indulgence for it, people will be apt to find a stronger name for it than self-preservation, terming it necessity. 5. To save yourself from drowning, you beat off an innocent man who has got hold of the same plank. In this case, your motive will in general be deemed neither good nor bad, and it will be termed self-preservation, or necessity, or the love of life. To save your life from a gang of robbers, you kill them in the conflict. In this case, the motive may perhaps be deemed rather laudable than otherwise, and, besides self-preservation, is thought also self-defense. 7. A soldier is sent upon a party against a weaker party of the enemy. Before he gets up with them, to save his life, he runs away. In this case, the motive will universally be deemed a contemptible one, and will be called cowardice. Yet, in all these various cases, the motive is still the same. It is neither more nor less than self-preservation. In particular, to the pains of exertion corresponds the motive, which, in a neutral sense, may be termed the love of ease, or, by a longer circumlocution, the desire of avoiding trouble. In a bad sense, it is termed indolence. It may seem odd at first sight to speak of the love of ease as giving to action, but exertion is as natural an effect of the love of ease as in action is, when a smaller degree of exertion promises to exempt a man from a greater. 8. It seems to have no name that carries with it a good sense. 1. To save the trouble of taking care of it, a parent leaves his child to perish. In this case, the motive will be deemed an abominable one, and, because indolence will seem too mild a name for it, the motive will, perhaps, be changed and spoke enough under some such term as cruelty. 2. To save yourself from an illegal slavery, you make you escaped. In this case, the motive will be deemed certainly not a bad one, and, because indolence, or even the love of ease, will be thought too unfavorable a name for it, it will, perhaps, bestow the love of liberty. 3. A mechanic, in order to save his labour, makes an improvement in his machinery. In this case, people will look upon his motive as a good one, and, finding no name for it that carries a good sense, they will be disposed to keep the motive out of sight. They will speak, rather, of his ingenuity, then of the motive which was the means of his manifesting that quality. Yet, in all these cases, the motive is the same. It is neither more nor less than the love of ease. It appears, then, that there is no such thing as any sort of motive which is a bad one in itself, nor, consequently, any such thing as a sort of motive which in itself is exclusively a good one. And as to their effects, it appears, too, that these are sometimes bad, at other times, either indifferent or good. And this appears to be the case with every sort of motive. If any sort of motive, then is either good or bad on the score of its effects. This is the case only, on individual occasions, and with individual motives. And this is the case with one sort of motive as well as with another. If any sort of motive, then, can in consideration of its effects be termed with any propriety a bad one, it can only be with reference to the balance of all the effects it may have had of both kinds within a given period, that is, of its most usual tendency. What, then, it will be said, are not lust, cruelty, avarice, bad motives? Is there so much as any one individual occasion in which motives, like these, can be otherwise than bad? No, certainly, and yet the proposition that there is no one sort of motive, but what will, on many occasions, be a good one, is nevertheless true. The fact is that these are names which, if properly applied, are never applied, but in the cases where the motives they signify happen to be bad. The names of those motives, considered apart from their effects, are sexual desire, displeasure, and pecuniary interest. To sexual desire, when the effects of it are looked upon as bad, is given the name of lust. Now lust is always a bad motive. Why? Because, if the case be such, that the effects of the motives are not bad, it does not go, or at least ought not to go, by the name of lust. The case is, then, that when I say lust is a bad motive, it is a proposition that merely concerns the import of the word lust, and which words be false if transferred to the other word used for the same motive, sexual desire. Hence we see the emptiness of all those rhapsodies of commonplace morality, which consists in the taking of such names as lust, cruelty, and avarice, and branding them with marks of reprobation. Applied to the thing, they are false. Applied to the name, they are true indeed, but newgatory. Would you do a real service to mankind? Show them the cases in which sexual desire merits the name of lust, displeasure, the name of cruelty, and pecuniary interest, that of avarice. If it weren't necessary to apply such denominations as good, bad, and indifferent to motives, they might be classed in the following manner, in consideration of the most frequent complexion of their effects. In the class of good motives might be placed the articles of one, goodwill, two, love of reputation, three, desire of amity, and four, religion. In the class of bad motives, five, displeasure. In the class of neutral or indifferent motives, six, physical desire, seven, pecuniary interest, eight, love of power, nine, self-preservation, as including the fear of the pains of the senses, the love of ease, and the love of life. This method of arrangement, however, cannot be but imperfect, and the nomenclature belonging to it is in danger of being fallacious. For by what method of investigation can a man be assured that with regard to the motives ranked under the name of good, the good effects they have had from the beginning of the world have, in each of the four species comprised under this name, been superior to the bad. Still, more difficulty would the man find in assuring himself that with regard to those which are ranked under the name of neutral or indifferent, the effects they have had have exactly balanced each other, the value of the good being neither greater nor less than that of the bad. It is to be considered that the interests of the person himself can no more be left out of the estimate than those of the rest of the community. For what would become of this species if it were not for the motives of hunger and thirst, sexual desire, the fear of pain, and the love of life? Nor in the actual constitution of human nature is the motive of this pleasure less necessary, perhaps than any others. Although a system in which the business of life might be carried on without it might possibly be conceived, it seems therefore that they could scarcely without great danger of mistakes be distinguished in this manner even with reference to each other. The only way it should seem in which a motive can with safety and propriety be stout good or bad is with reference to its effects in each individual instance, and principally from the intention it gives birth to, from which arise, as will be shown hereafter, the most material part of its effects. A motive is good when the intention it gives birth to is a good one, bad when the intention is a bad one, and an intention is good or bad according to the material consequences that are the objects of it. So far it is from the goodness of the intentions being to be known only from the species of the motive. But from one and the same motive, as we have seen, may result in tensions of every sort of complexion whatsoever. This circumstance therefore can afford no clue for the arrangement of the several sorts of motives. A more commodious method therefore it should seem would be to distribute them according to the influence which they appear to have on the interest of the other members of the community, laying those of the party himself out of the question, to wit according to the tendency which they appear to have to unite or disunite his interests and theirs. On this plan they may be distinguished into social, distsocial, and self-regarding. In the social class may be reckoned, one good will, two love of reputation, three desire of enmity, four religion. In the distsocial may be placed, five displeasure. In the self-regarding class, six physical desire, seven pecuniary interest, eight love of power, nine self-preservation, as including the fear of the pains of the senses, the love of ease, and the love of life. With respect to the motives that have been termed social, if any further distinction should be of use, to that of good will alone may be applied the epithets of purely social. While the love of reputation, the desire of enmity, and the motive of religion may together be comprised under the division of semi-social, the social tendency being much more constant and unequivocal in the former than in any of the three latter. Indeed, these last, social as they may be termed are self-regarding at the same time.