 File 46 of a Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume, Volume 2 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by George Yeager, Book 3 of Morals, Part 2 of Justice and Injustice, Section 10 of the Objects of Allegiance. But though on some occasions it may be justifiable, both in sound politics and morality, to resist supreme power, it is certain that in the ordinary course of human affairs nothing can be more pernicious and criminal. And that besides the convulsions which always attend revolutions, such a practice tends directly to the subversion of all government and the causing and universal anarchy and confusion among mankind. As numerous and civilized societies cannot subsist without government, so government is entirely useless without an exact obedience. We ought always to weigh the advantages which we reap from authority against the disadvantages, and by this means we shall become more scrupulous of putting in practice the doctrine of resistance. The common rule requires submission, and it is only in cases of grievous tyranny and oppression that the exception can take place. Since then such a blind submission is commonly due to magistracy, the next question is to whom it is due and whom we are to regard as our lawful magistrates. In order to answer this question, let us recollect what we have already established concerning the origin of government and political society. When men have once experienced the impossibility of preserving any steady order in society while everyone is his own master and violates or observes the laws of society according to his present interest or pleasure, they naturally run into the invention of government and put it out of their own power as far as possible to transgress the laws of society. Therefore arises from the voluntary convention of men, and it is evident that the same convention which establishes government will also determine the persons who are to govern and will remove all doubt and ambiguity in this particular. And the voluntary consent of men must here have the greater efficacy that the authority of the magistrate does at first stand upon the foundation of a promise of the subjects by which they bind themselves to obedience, as in every other contract or engagement. The same promise then, which binds them to obedience, ties them down to a particular person and makes him the object of their allegiance. But when government has been established on this footing for some considerable time and the separate interest which we have in submission has produced a separate sentiment of morality, the case is entirely altered, and a promise is no longer able to determine the particular magistrate since it is no longer considered as the foundation of government. We naturally suppose ourselves born to submission and imagine that such particular persons have a right to command as we on our part are bound to obey. These notions of right and obligation are derived from nothing but the advantage we reap from government which gives us a repugnance to practice resistance ourselves and makes us displeased with any instance of it in others. But here it is remarkable that in this new state of affairs the original sanction of government which is interest is not admitted to determine the persons whom we are to obey as the original sanction did at first when affairs were on the footing of a promise. A promise fixes and determines the persons without any uncertainty, but it is evident that if men were to regulate their conduct in this particular by the view of a peculiar interest either public or private they would involve themselves in endless confusion and would render all government in a great measure ineffectual. The private interest of everyone is different and though the public interest in itself be always one and the same yet it becomes the source of as great dissensions by reason of the different opinions of particular persons concerning it. The same interest therefore which causes us to submit to magistracy makes us renounce itself in the choice of our magistrates and binds us down to a certain form of government and to particular persons without allowing us to aspire to the utmost perfection in either. The case is here the same as in that law of nature concerning the stability of possession. It is highly advantageous and even absolutely necessary to society that possession should be stable and this leads us to the establishment of such a rule, but we find that were we to follow the same advantage in assigning particular possessions to particular persons we should disappoint our end and perpetuate the confusion which that rule is intended to prevent. We must therefore proceed by general rules and regulate ourselves by general interests in modifying the law of nature concerning the stability of possession, nor need we fear that our attachment to this law will diminish upon account of the seeming frivolousness of those interests by which it is determined. The impulse of the mind is derived from a very strong interest, and those other more minute interests serve only to direct the motion without adding anything to it or diminishing from it. It is the same case with government. Nothing is more advantageous to society than such an invention, and this interest is sufficient to make us embrace it with ardor and alacrity, though we are obliged afterwards to regulate and direct our devotion to government by several considerations which are not of the same importance, and to choose our magistrates without having in view any particular advantage from the choice. The first of those principles I shall take notice of as a foundation of the rite of magistracy is that which gives authority to all the most established governments of the world without exception. I mean long possession in any one form of government or succession of princes. It is certain that if we remount to the first origin of every nation we shall find that their scarce is any race of kings or form of a commonwealth that is not primarily founded on usurpation and rebellion, and whose title is not at first worse than doubtful and uncertain. Time alone gives solidity to their rite, and operating gradually on the minds of men reconciles them to any authority and makes it seem just and reasonable. Nothing causes any sentiment to have a greater influence upon us than custom, or turns our imagination more strongly to any object. When we have been long accustomed to obey any set of men, that general instinct or tendency which we have to suppose a moral obligation attending loyalty takes easily this direction and chooses that set of men for its objects. It is interest which gives the general instinct, but it is custom which gives the particular direction. And here it is observable that the same length of time has a different influence on our sentiments of morality according to its different influence on the mind. We naturally judge of everything by comparison, and since in considering the fate of kingdoms and republics we embrace a long extent of time, a small duration has not in this case a light influence on our sentiments as when we consider any other object. One thinks he acquires a rite to a horse or a suit of clothes in a very short time, but a century is scarce sufficient to establish any new government or remove all scruples in the minds of the subjects concerning it. Add to this that a shorter period of time will suffice to give a prince a title to any additional power he may usurp, then will serve to fix his rite where the whole is in usurpation. The kings of France have not been possessed of absolute power for above two reigns, and yet nothing will appear more extravagant to Frenchmen than to talk of their liberties. If we consider what has been said concerning accession we shall easily account for this phenomenon. When there is no form of government established by long possession, the present possession is sufficient to supply its place, and may be regarded as the second source of all public authority. Rite to authority is nothing but the constant possession of authority maintained by the laws of society and the interests of mankind, and nothing can be more natural than to join this constant possession to the present one according to the principles above mentioned. If the same principles did not take place with regard to the property of private persons, it was because these principles were counterbalanced by very strong considerations of interest when we observed that all restitution would by that means be prevented, and every violence be authorized and protected. And though the same motives may seem to have force with regard to public authority, yet they are opposed by a contrary interest, which consists in the preservation of peace and the avoiding of all changes which, however they may be easily produced in private affairs, are unavoidably attended with bloodshed and confusion where the public is interested. Anyone who finding the impossibility of accounting for the right of the present possessor by any received system of ethics should resolve to deny absolutely that right and assert that it is not authorized by morality would be justly thought to maintain a very extravagant paradox and to shock the common sense and judgment of mankind. No maxim is more conformable both to providence and morals than to submit quietly to the government which we find established in the country where we happen to live without inquiring too curiously into its origin and first establishment. Few governments will bear being examined so rigorously. How many kingdoms are there at present in the world, and how many more do we find in history whose governors have no better foundation for their authority than that of present possession? To confine ourselves to the Roman and Grecian Empire is it not evident that the long succession of emperors from the dissolution of the Roman liberty to the final extinction of that empire by the Turks could not so much as pretend to any other title to the empire. The election of the Senate was a mere form which always followed the choice of the legions, and these were almost always divided in the different provinces, and nothing but the sword was able to terminate the difference. It was by the sword, therefore, that every emperor acquired as well as defended his right, and we must either say that all the known world, for so many ages, had no government and owed no allegiance to any one, or must allow that the right of the stronger in public affairs is to be received as legitimate and authorized by morality when not opposed by any other title. The right of conquest may be considered as a third source of the title of sovereigns. This right resembles very much that of present possession, but has rather a superior force being seconded by the notions of glory and honour which we ascribe to conquerors instead of the sentiments of hatred and detestation which attend usurpers. Then naturally favour those they love, and therefore are more apt to ascribe a right to successful violence betwixt one sovereign and another than to the successful rebellion of a subject against his sovereign. Footnote XXIII. It is not here asserted that present possession or conquest are sufficient to give a title against long possession and positive laws, but only that they have some force and will be able to cast the balance where the titles are otherwise equal, and will even be sufficient sometimes to sanctify the weaker title. What degree of force they have is difficult to determine. I believe all moderate men will allow that they have great force in all disputes concerning the rights of princes. End of footnote XXIII. When neither long possession nor present possession nor conquest take place as when the first sovereign who founded any monarchy dies, in that case the right of succession naturally prevails in their stead, and men are commonly induced to place the son of their late monarch on the throne and suppose him to inherit his father's authority. The presumed consent of the father, the imitation of the succession to private families, the interest which the state has in choosing the person who is most powerful and has the most numerous followers, all these reasons lead men to prefer the son of their late monarch to any other person. Footnote XXIV. To prevent mistakes I must observe that this case of succession is not the same with that of hereditary monarchies where custom has fixed the right of succession. These depend upon the principle of long possession above explained. End of footnote XXIV. These reasons have some weight, but I am persuaded that to one who considers impartially of the matter it will appear that there concur some principles of the imagination along with those views of interest. The royal authority seems to be connected with the young prince, even in his father's lifetime by the natural transition of the thought, and still more after his death, so that nothing is more natural than to complete this union by a new relation and by putting him actually in possession of what seems so naturally to belong to him. To confirm this we may weigh the following phenomena which are pretty curious in their kind. In elective monarchies the right of succession has no place by the laws and settled custom, and yet its influence is so natural that it is impossible entirely to exclude it from the imagination and render the subjects indifferent to the son of their deceased monarch. Hence in some governments of this kind the choice commonly falls on one or other of the royal family, and in some governments they are all excluded. To choose contrary phenomena proceed from the same principle. Where the royal family is excluded it is from a refinement in politics which makes people sensible of their propensity to choose a sovereign in that family, and gives them a jealousy of their liberty lest their new monarch aided by this propensity should establish his family and destroy the freedom of elections for the future. The history of our taxorexies and the younger Cyrus may furnish us with some reflections to the same purpose. Cyrus pretended a right to the throne above his elder brother because he was born after his father's accession. I do not pretend that this reason was valid. I would only infer from it that he would never have made use of such a pretext were it not for the qualities of the imagination above mentioned by which we are naturally inclined to unite by a new relation whatever objects we find already united. Our taxorexies had an advantage above his brother as being the eldest son and the first in succession, but Cyrus was more closely related to the royal authority as being begot after his father was invested with it. Should it be here pretended that the view of convenience may be the source of all the right of succession and that men gladly take advantage of any rule by which they can fix the successor of their late sovereign and prevent that anarchy and confusion which attends all new elections? To this I would answer that I readily allow that this motive may contribute something to the effect, but at the same time I assert that without another principle it is impossible such a motive should take place. The interest of a nation requires that the succession to the crown should be fixed one way or another, but it is the same thing to its interest in what way it be fixed, so that if the relation of blood had not an effect independent of public interest it would never have been regarded without a positive law, and it would have been impossible that so many positive laws of different nations could ever have concurred precisely in the same views and intentions. This leads us to consider the fifth source of authority, that is, positive laws, when the legislature establishes a certain form of government and succession of princes. At first sight it may be thought that this must resolve into some of the preceding titles of authority. The legislative power whence the positive law is derived must either be established by original contract, long possession, present possession, conquest, or succession, and consequently the positive law must derive its force from some of those principles. But here it is remarkable that though a positive law can only derive its force from these principles, yet it acquires not all the force of the principle from whence it is derived, but loses considerably in the transition as it is natural to imagine. For instance, a government is established for many centuries on a certain system of laws, forms, and methods of succession. The legislative power established by this long succession changes all on a sudden the whole system of government, and introduces a new constitution in its stead. I believe few of the subjects will think themselves bound to comply with this alteration unless it have an evident tendency to the public good, but will think themselves still at liberty to return to the ancient government. Hence the notion of fundamental laws, which are supposed to be inalterable by the will of the sovereign, and of this nature the Salek law is understood to be in France. How far these fundamental laws extend is not determined in any government, nor is it possible it ever should. There is such an insensible gradation from the most material laws to the most trivial, and from the most ancient laws to the most modern, that it will be impossible to set bounds to the legislative power and determine how far it may innovate in the principles of government. That is the work more of imagination and passion than of reason. Whoever considers the history of the several nations of the world, their revolutions, conquests, increase and diminution, the manner in which their particular governments are established, and the successive right transmitted from one person to another, will soon learn to treat very lightly all disputes concerning the rights of princes, and will be convinced that strict adherence to any general rules and the rigid loyalty to particular persons and families on which some people set so high a value are virtues that hold less of reason than of bigotry and superstition. In this particular, this study of history confirms the reasonings of true philosophy, which, showing us the original qualities of human nature, teaches us to regard the controversies in politics as incapable of any decision in most cases and as entirely subordinate to the interests of peace and liberty. Where the public good does not evidently demand a change, it is certain that the concurrence of all those titles, original contract, long possession, present possession, succession, and positive laws, forms the strongest title to sovereignty, and is justly regarded as sacred and inviolable. But when these titles are mingled and opposed in different degrees, they often occasion perplexity, and are less capable of solution from the arguments of lawyers and philosophers than from the swords of the soldiery. Who shall tell me, for instance, whether Germanicus or Drusus ought to have succeeded Tiberius had he died while they were both alive without naming any of them for his successor? Ought the right of adoption to be received as equivalent to that of blood in a nation where it had the same effect in private families and had already, in two instances, taken place in the public? Ought Germanicus to be esteemed the eldest son because he was born before Drusus, or the younger because he was adopted after the birth of his brother? Ought the right of the elder to be regarded in a nation where the eldest brother had no advantage in the succession to private families? Ought the Roman Empire at that time to be esteemed hereditary because of two examples or audit even so early to be regarded as belonging to the stronger or the present possessor as being founded on so recent and usurpation? Upon whatever principles we may pretend to answer these and such like questions, I am afraid we shall never be able to satisfy an impartial inquirer who adopts no party in political controversies and will be satisfied with nothing but sound reason and philosophy. But here an English reader will be apt to inquire concerning that famous revolution which has had such a happy influence on our constitution and has been attended with such mighty consequences. We have already remarked that in the case of enormous tyranny and oppression it is lawful to take arms even against supreme power and that as government is a mere human invention for mutual advantage and security it no longer imposes any obligation either natural or moral when once it ceases to have that tendency. But though this general principle be authorized by common sense and the practice of all ages, it is certainly impossible for the laws or even for philosophy to establish any particular rules by which we may know when resistance is lawful and decide all controversies which may arise on that subject. This may not only happen with regard to supreme power, but it is possible even in some constitutions where the legislative authority is not lodged in one person that there may be a magistrate so eminent and powerful as to oblige the laws to keep silence in this particular. Nor would this silence be an effect only of their respect, but also of their prudence since it is certain that in the vast variety of circumstances which occur in all governments an exercise of power in so great a magistrate may at one time be beneficial to the public which at another time would be pernicious and tyrannical. But not withstanding this silence of the laws in limited monarchies it is certain that the people still retain the right of resistance since it is impossible even in the most despotic governments to deprive them of it. The same necessity of self-preservation and the same motive of public good give them the same liberty in the one case as in the other. And we may further observe that in such mixed governments the cases wherein resistance is lawful must occur much oftener and greater indulgence be given to the subjects to defend themselves by force of arms than in arbitrary governments. Not only where the chief magistrate enters into measures in themselves extremely pernicious to the public, but even when he would encroach on the other parts of the constitution and extend his power beyond the legal bounds, it is allowable to resist and dethrone him, though such resistance and violence may in the general tenor of the laws be deemed unlawful and rebellious. For besides that nothing is more essential to the public interest than the preservation of public liberty, it is evident that if such a mixed government be once supposed to be established, every part or member of the constitution must have a right of self-defense and of maintaining its ancient bounds against the encroachment of every other authority. As matter would have been created in vain were it deprived of the power of resistance without which no part of it could preserve a distinct existence and the whole might be crowded up into a single point, so it is a gross absurdity to suppose in any government a right without a remedy, or allow that the supreme power is shared with the people without allowing that it is lawful for them to defend their share against every invader. Those therefore who would seem to respect our free government and yet deny the right of resistance have renounced all pretensions to common sense and do not merit a serious answer. It does not belong to my present purpose to shoo that these general principles are applicable to the late revolution and that all the rights and privileges which ought to be sacred to a free nation were at that time threatened with the utmost danger. I am better pleased to leave this controverted subject if it really admits of controversy and to indulge myself in some philosophical reflections which naturally arise from that important event. First, we may observe that should the lords and commons in our constitution without any reason from public interest either depose the king in being or after his death exclude the prince who by laws and settled custom ought to succeed, no one would esteem their proceedings legal or think themselves bound to comply with them. But should the king by his unjust practices or his attempts for a tyrannical and despotic power justly forfeit his legal, it then not only becomes morally lawful and suitable to the nature of political society to dethrone him, but what is more, we are apt likewise to think that the remaining members of the constitution acquire a right of excluding his next heir and of choosing whom they please for his successor. This is founded on a very singular quality of our thought and imagination. When a king forfeits his authority, his heir ought naturally to remain in the same situation as if the king were removed by death, unless by mixing himself in the tyranny he forfeit it for himself. But though this may seem reasonable, we easily comply with the contrary opinion. The deposition of a king in such a government as ours is certainly an act beyond all common authority, and an illegal assuming a power for public good which in the ordinary course of government can belong to no member of the constitution. When the public good is so great and so evident as to justify the action, the commendable use of this license causes us naturally to attribute to the parliament a right of using further licenses. And the ancient bounds of the laws being once transgressed with approbation we are not apt to be so strict in confining ourselves precisely within their limits. The mind naturally runs on with any train of action which it has begun, nor do we commonly make any scruple concerning our duty after the first action of any kind which we perform. Thus at the revolution no one who thought the deposition of the father justifiable esteemed themselves to be confined to his infant son, though had that unhappy monarch died innocent at that time and had his son by any accident been conveyed beyond seas, there is no doubt but a regency would have been appointed till he should come to age and could be restored to his dominions. As the slightest properties of the imagination have an effect on the judgments of the people it choose the wisdom of the laws and of the parliament to take advantage of such properties and to choose the magistrates either in or out of the line according as the vulgar will most naturally attribute authority and right to them. Secondly, though the accession of the Prince of Orange to the throne might at first give occasion to many disputes and his title be contested, it ought now not to appear doubtful but must have acquired a sufficient authority from those three princes who have succeeded him upon the same title. The King is more usual, though nothing may at first sight appear more unreasonable than this way of thinking. Princes often seem to acquire a right from their successors as well as from their ancestors, and a King who during his lifetime might justly be deemed a new surfer will be regarded by posterity as a lawful prince because he has had the good fortune to settle his family on the throne and entirely change the ancient form of government. Julius Caesar is regarded as the first Roman emperor, while Silla and Marius, whose titles were really the same as his, are treated as tyrants and usurpers. Time and custom give authority to all forms of government and all successions of princes, and that power which at first was founded only on injustice and violence becomes in time legal and obligatory. Nor does the mind rest there, but returning back upon its footsteps transfers to their predecessors and ancestors that right which it naturally ascribes to the posterity as being related together and united in the imagination. The present King of France makes you capet a more lawful prince than Cromwell, as the established liberty of the Dutch is no inconsiderable apology for their obstinate resistance to Philip II. OF THE LAWS OF NATIONS When civil government has been established over the greatest part of mankind and different societies have been formed contiguous to each other, there arises a new set of duties among the neighbouring states suitable to the nature of that commerce which they carry on with each other. Political writers tell us that in every kind of intercourse a body politic is to be considered as one person, and indeed this assertion is so far just that different nations as well as private persons require mutual assistance at the same time that their selfishness and ambition are perpetual sources of war and discord. But though nations in this particular resemble individuals, yet as they are very different in other respects no wonder they regulate themselves by different maxims and give rise to a new set of rules which we call the laws of nations. Under this head we may comprise the sacredness of the persons of ambassadors, the declaration of war, the abstaining from poisoned arms, with other duties of that kind which are evidently calculated for the commerce that is peculiar to different societies. But though these rules be super added to the laws of nature, the former do not entirely abolish the latter, and one may safely affirm that the three fundamental rules of justice, the stability of possession, its transference by consent, and the performance of promises are duties of princes as well as of subjects. The same interest produces the same effect in both cases. Where possession has no stability there must be perpetual war. Where property is not transferred by consent there can be no commerce. Where promises are not observed there can be no leagues nor alliances. The advantages therefore of peace, commerce, and mutual succor make us extend to different kingdoms the same notions of justice which take place among individuals. There is a maxim very current in the world which few politicians are willing to avow but which has been authorized by the practice of all ages, that there is a system of morals calculated for princes much more free than that which ought to govern private persons. It is evident this is not to be understood of the lesser extent of public duties and obligations, nor will anyone be so extravagant as to assert that the most solemn treaties ought to have no force among princes. Therefore as princes do actually form treaties among themselves they must propose some advantage from the execution of them, and the prospect of such advantage for the future must engage them to perform their part, and must establish that law of nature. The meaning therefore of this political maxim is that though the morality of princes has the same extent yet it has not the same force as that of private persons and may lawfully be transgressed from a more trivial motive. However shocking such a proposition may appear to certain philosophers it will be easy to defend it upon those principles by which we have accounted for the origin of justice and equity. And men have found by experience that it is impossible to subsist without society and that it is impossible to maintain society while they give free course to their appetites, so urgent an interest quickly restrains their actions and imposes an obligation to observe those rules which we call the laws of justice. This obligation of interest rests not here, but by the necessary course of the passions and sentiments gives rise to the moral obligation of duty, while we approve of such actions as tend to the peace of society and disapprove of such as tend to its disturbance. The same natural obligation of interest takes place among independent kingdoms and gives rise to the same morality, so that no one of ever so corrupt morals will approve of a prince who voluntarily and of his own accord breaks his word or violates any treaty. But here we may observe that though the intercourse of different states be advantageous and even sometimes necessary, yet it is not so necessary nor advantageous as that among individuals without which it is utterly impossible for human nature ever to subsist. Since therefore the natural obligation to justice among different states is not so strong as among individuals, the moral obligation which arises from it must partake of its weakness, and we must necessarily give a greater indulgence to a prince or minister who deceives another than to a private gentleman who breaks his word of honour. Should it be asked what proportion these two species of morality bear to each other, I would answer that this is a question to which we can never give any precise answer, nor is it possible to reduce to numbers the proportion which we ought to fix betwixt them. One may safely affirm that this proportion finds itself without any art or study of men, as we may observe on many other occasions. The practice of the world goes farther in teaching us the degrees of our duty than the most subtle philosophy which was ever yet invented. And this may serve as a convincing proof that all men have an implicit notion of the foundation of those moral rules concerning natural and civil justice, and are sensible that they arise merely from human conventions and from the interest which we have in the preservation of peace and order. For otherwise the diminution of the interest would never produce a relaxation of the morality and reconcile us more easily to any transgression of justice among princes and republics than in the private commerce of one subject with another. Second of File 47 File 48 of A Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume Volume 2 This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by George Yeager Book 3 of Morals Part 2 of Justice and Injustice Section 12 of Chastity and Modesty If any difficulty attend this system concerning the laws of nature and nations, it will be with regard to the universal approbation or blame which follows their observance or transgression, and which some may not think sufficiently explained from the general interests of society. To remove as far as possible all scruples of this kind, I shall here consider another set of duties, that is, the modesty and chastity which belong to the fair sex. And I doubt not, but these virtues will be found to be still more conspicuous instances of the operation of those principles which I have insisted on. There are some philosophers who attack the female virtues with great vehemence, and fancy they have gone very far in detecting popular errors when they can show that there is no foundation in nature for all that exterior modesty which we require in the expressions and dress and behavior of the fair sex. I believe I may spare myself the trouble of insisting on so obvious a subject and may proceed without further preparation to examine after what manner such notions arise from education, from the voluntary conventions of men, and from the interest of society. Whoever considers the length and feebleness of human infancy with the concern which both sexes naturally have for their offspring will easily perceive that there must be an union of male and female for the education of the young, and that this union must be of considerable duration. But in order to induce the men to impose on themselves this restraint and undergo cheerfully all the fatigues and expenses to which it subjects them, they must believe that the children are their own, and that their natural instinct is not directed to a wrong object when they give a loose to love and tenderness. Now if we examine the structure of the human body we shall find that this security is very difficult to be attained on our part, and that since in the copulation of the sexes the principle of generation goes from the man to the woman and error may easily take place on the side of the former, though it be utterly impossible with regard to the latter. From this trivial and anatomical observation is derived that vast difference betwixt the education and duties of the two sexes. Were a philosopher to examine the matter a priori he would reason after the following manner. Women are induced to labor for the maintenance and education of their children by the persuasion that they are really their own, and therefore it is reasonable and even necessary to give them some security in this particular. This security cannot consist entirely in the imposing of severe punishments on any transgressions of conjugal fidelity on the part of the wife, since these public punishments cannot be inflicted without legal proof which it is difficult to meet with in this subject. What restraint therefore shall we impose on women in order to counterbalance so strong attemptation as they have to infidelity? There seems to be no restraint possible but in the punishment of bad fame or reputation, a punishment which has a mighty influence on the human mind and at the same time is inflicted by the world upon surmises and conjectures and proofs that would never be received in any court of judicature. In order therefore to impose a due restraint on the female sex, we must attach a peculiar degree of shame to their infidelity above what arises merely from its injustice and must bestow proportionable praises on their chastity. But though this be a very strong motive to fidelity, our philosopher would quickly discover that it would not alone be sufficient to that purpose. All human creatures, especially of the female sex, are apt to overlook remote motives in favor of any present temptation. The temptation is here the strongest imaginable, its approaches are insensible and seducing, and a woman easily finds, or flatters herself, she shall find, certain means of securing her reputation and preventing all the pernicious consequences of her pleasures. It is necessary therefore that beside the infamy attending such licenses there should be some preceding backwardness or dread which may prevent their first approaches and may give the female sex a repugnance to all expressions and postures and liberties that have an immediate relation to that enjoyment. Such would be the reasonings of our speculative philosopher. But I am persuaded that if he had not a perfect knowledge of human nature he would be apt to regard them as mere comirical speculations and would consider the infamy attending infidelity and backwardness to all its approaches as principles that were rather to be wished than hoped for in the world. For what means would he say of persuading mankind that the transgressions of conjugal duty are more infamous than any other kind of injustice, when it is evident they are more excusable upon account of the greatness of the temptation? And what possibility of giving a backwardness to the approaches of a pleasure to which nature has inspired so strong a propensity, and a propensity that it is absolutely necessary in the end to comply with for the support of the species? But speculative reasonings which cost so much pains to philosophers are often formed by the world naturally and without reflection, as difficulties which seem insurmountable in theory are easily got over in practice. Those who have an interest in the fidelity of women naturally disapprove of their infidelity and all the approaches to it. Those who have no interest are carried along with the stream. Education takes possession of the ductal minds of the fair sex in their infancy, and when a general rule of this kind is once established, men are apt to extend it beyond those principles from which it first arose. Thus, bachelors however debauched cannot choose but be shocked with any instance of lewdness or impudence in women. And though all these maxims have a plain reference to generation, yet women past childbearing have no more privilege in this respect than those who are in the flower of their youth and beauty. Men have undoubtedly an implicit notion that all those ideas of modesty and decency have a regard to generation, since they impose not the same laws with the same force on the male sex where that reason takes not place. The exception is their obvious and extensive, and founded on a remarkable difference which produces a clear separation and disjunction of ideas. But as the case is not the same with regard to the different ages of women for this reason, though men know that these notions are founded on the public interest, yet the general rule carries us beyond the original principle and makes us extend the notions of modesty over the whole sex from their earliest infancy to their extremist old age and infirmity. Courage, which is the point of honor among men, derives its merit in a great measure from artifice as well as the chastity of women, though it has also some foundation in nature as we shall see afterwards. As to the obligations which the male sex lie under with regard to chastity, we may observe that according to the general notions of the world they bear nearly the same proportion to the obligations of women as the obligations of the law of nations due to those of the law of nature. It is contrary to the interest of civil society that men should have an entire liberty of indulging their appetites in venereal enjoyment. But as this interest is weaker than in the case of the female sex, the moral obligation arising from it must be proportionably weaker. And to prove this, we need only appeal to the practice and sentiments of all nations and ages. End of File 48. File 49 of a Treatise of Human Nature by David Hume, Volume 2. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by George Yeager, Book 3 of Morals, Part 3 of the Other Virtues and Vices, Section 1 of the Origin of the Natural Virtues and Vices. We come now to the examination of such virtues and vices as are entirely natural and have no dependence on the artifice and contrivance of men. The examination of these will conclude this system of morals. The chief spring or actuating principle of the human mind is pleasure or pain. And when these sensations are removed, both from our thought and feeling, we are in a great measure incapable of passion or action, of desire or volition. The most immediate effects of pleasure and pain are the propense and averse motions of the mind which are diversified into volition, into desire and diversion, grief and joy, hope and fear, according as the pleasure or pain changes its situation and becomes probable or improbable, certain or uncertain, or is considered as out of our power for the present moment. But when, along with this, the objects that cause pleasure or pain acquire a relation to ourselves or others, they still continue to excite desire and diversion, grief and joy, but cause at the same time the indirect passions of pride or humility, love or hatred, which in this case have a double relation of impressions and ideas to the pain or pleasure. We have already observed that moral distinctions depend entirely on certain peculiar sentiments of pain and pleasure, and that whatever mental quality in ourselves or others gives us a satisfaction by the survey or reflection is of course virtuous as everything of this nature that gives uneasiness is vicious. Now since every quality in ourselves or others which gives pleasure always causes pride or love as everyone that produces uneasiness excites humility or hatred, it follows that these two particulars are to be considered as equivalent with regard to our mental qualities, virtue and the power of producing love or pride, vice and the power of producing humility or hatred. In every case, therefore, we must judge of the one by the other and may pronounce any quality of the mind virtuous which causes love or pride and any one vicious which causes hatred or humility. If any action be either virtuous or vicious is this only as a sign of some quality or character. It must depend upon durable principles of the mind which extend over the whole conduct and enter into the personal character. Actions themselves not proceeding from any constant principle have no influence on love or hatred, pride or humility, and consequently are never considered in morality. This reflection is self-evident and deserves to be attended to as being of the utmost importance in the present subject. We are never to consider any single action in our inquiries concerning the origin of morals, but only the quality or character from which the action proceeded. These alone are durable enough to affect our sentiments concerning the person. Actions are indeed better indications of a character than words or even wishes and sentiments. But it is only so far as they are such indications that they are attended with love or hatred, praise or blame. To discover the true origin of morals and of that love or hatred which arises from mental qualities we must take the matter pretty deep and compare some principles which have been already examined and explained. We may begin with considering anew the nature and force of sympathy. The minds of all men are similar in their feelings and operations, nor can anyone be actuated by any affection of which all others are not, in some degree, susceptible. As in strings equally wound up, the motion of one communicates itself to the rest, so all the affections readily pass from one person to another and beget correspondent movements in every human creature. When I see the effects of passion in the voice and gesture of any person, my mind immediately passes from these effects to their causes and forms such a lively idea of the passion as is presently converted into the passion itself. In like manner, when I perceive the causes of any emotion, my mind is conveyed to the effects and is actuated with a like emotion. Were I present at any of the more terrible operations of surgery, it is certain that even before it begun, the preparation of the instruments, the laying of the bandages in order, the heating of the irons, with all the signs of anxiety and concern in the patients and assistants, would have a great effect upon my mind and excite the strongest sentiments of pity and terror. No passion of another discovers itself immediately to the mind. We are only sensible of its causes or effects. From these we infer the passion, and consequently these give rise to our sympathy. Our sense of beauty depends very much on this principle, and where any object has a tendency to produce pleasure in its possessor, it is always regarded as beautiful, as every object that has a tendency to produce pain is disagreeable and deformed. Thus the conveniency of a house, the fertility of a field, the strength of a horse, the capacity, security, and swift sailing of a vessel form the principle beauty of these several objects. Here the object which is denominated beautiful pleases only by its tendency to produce a certain effect. That effect is the pleasure or advantage of some other person. Now the pleasure of a stranger for whom we have no friendship pleases us only by sympathy. To this principle, therefore, is owing to beauty which we find in everything that is useful. How considerable a part this is of beauty can easily appear upon reflection. Wherever an object has a tendency to produce pleasure in the possessor, or in other words, is the proper cause of pleasure, it is sure to please the spectator by a delicate sympathy with the possessor. Most of the works of art are esteemed beautiful in proportion to their fitness for the use of man, and even many of the productions of nature derive their beauty from that source. Some and beautiful on most occasions is not an absolute, but a relative quality, and pleases us by nothing but its tendency to produce an end that is agreeable. Footnote 25 Reader's note, the Latin from Quintilian book 8, is not read here, but rather the English translation. A horse with narrow flanks looks more comely, it also moves faster. An athlete whose muscles have been developed by training presents a handsome appearance. He is also better prepared for the contest. Attractive appearance is invariably associated with efficient functioning. Yet it takes no outstanding powers of judgment to make this distinction. Footnote 25 The same principle produces in many instances our sentiments of morals as well as those of beauty. No virtue is more esteemed than justice, and no vice more detested than injustice. Nor are there any qualities which go farther to the fixing of the character either as amiable or odious. Now justice is a moral virtue merely because it has that tendency to the good of mankind, and indeed is nothing but an artificial invention to that purpose. The same may be said of allegiance, of the laws of nations, of modesty, and of good manners. All these are mere human contrivances for the interest of society, and since there is a very strong sentiment of morals which in all nations and all ages has attended them, we must allow that the reflecting on the tendency of characters and mental qualities is sufficient to give us the sentiments of approbation and blame. Now as the means to an end can only be agreeable where the end is agreeable, and as the good of society where our own interest is not concerned or that of our friends pleases only by sympathy, it follows that sympathy is the sorts of the esteem which we pay to all the artificial virtues. Thus it appears that sympathy is a very powerful principle in human nature, that it has a great influence on our taste of beauty, and that it produces our sentiment of morals in all the artificial virtues. From fence we may presume that it also gives rise to many of the other virtues, and that qualities acquire our approbation because of their tendency to the good of mankind. This presumption must become a certainty when we find that most of these qualities which we naturally approve of have actually that tendency and render a man a proper member of society, while the qualities which we naturally disapprove of have a contrary tendency and render any intercourse with the person dangerous or disagreeable. For having found that such tendencies have force enough to produce the strongest sentiment of morals, we can never reasonably in these cases look for any other cause of approbation or blame, it being an inviolable maxim in philosophy that where any particular cause is sufficient for an effect we ought to rest satisfied with it and ought not to multiply causes without necessity. We have happily attained experiments in the artificial virtues where the tendency of qualities to the good of society is the sole cause of our approbation without any suspicion of the concurrence of another principle. From fence we learn the force of that principle. And where that principle may take place and the quality approved of is really beneficial to society, a true philosopher will never require any other principle to account for the strongest approbation and esteem. But many of the natural virtues have this tendency to the good of society no one can doubt of. Meekness, beneficence, charity, generosity, clemency, moderation, equity bear the greatest figure among the moral qualities and are commonly denominated the social virtues to mark their tendency to the good of society. This goes so far that some philosophers have represented all moral distinctions as the effect of artifice and education when skillful politicians endeavored to restrain the turbulent passions of men and make them operate to the public good by the notions of honor and shame. This system, however, is not consistent with experience. For first there are other virtues and vices beside those which have this tendency to the public advantage and loss. Secondly, had not men a natural sentiment of approbation and blame, it could never be excited by politicians, nor would the words laudable and praiseworthy, blamable and odious be any more intelligible than if they were a language perfectly unknown to us, as we have already observed. But though this system be erroneous, it may teach us that moral distinctions arise in a great measure from the tendency of qualities and characters to the interests of society, and that it is our concern for that interest which makes us approve or disapprove of them. Now we have no such extensive concern for society, but from sympathy, and consequently it is that principle which takes us so far out of ourselves as to give us the same pleasure or uneasiness in the characters of others as if they had a tendency to our own advantage or loss. The only difference betwixt the natural virtues and justice lies in this, that the good which results from the former arises from every single act, and is the object of some natural passion, whereas the single act of justice considered in itself may often be contrary to the public good, and it is only the concurrence of mankind in a general scheme or system of action which is advantageous. When I relieve persons in distress, my natural humanity is my motive, and so far as my succor extends, so far have I promoted the happiness of my fellow creatures. But if we examine all the questions that come before any tribunal of justice, we shall find that considering each case apart, it would as often be an instance of humanity to decide contrary to the laws of justice as conformable to them. Judges take from a poor man to give to a rich. They bestow on the disillute the labor of the industrious and put into the hands of the vicious the means of harming both themselves and others. The whole scheme, however, of law and justice is advantageous to the society, and it was with a view to this advantage that men, by their voluntary conventions, established it. After it is once established by these conventions, it is naturally attended with a strong sentiment of morals which can proceed from nothing but our sympathy with the interests of society. We need no other explication of that esteem which attends such of the natural virtues as have a tendency to the public good. I must further add that there are several circumstances which render this hypothesis much more probable with regard to the natural than the artificial virtues. It is certain that the imagination is more affected by what is particular than by what is general, and that the sentiments are always moved with difficulty where their objects are in any degree loose and undetermined. Now every particular act of justice is not beneficial to society, but the whole scheme or system, and it may not perhaps be any individual person for whom we are concerned who receives benefit from justice, but the whole society alike. On the contrary, every particular act of generosity or relief of the industrious and indigent is beneficial, and is beneficial to a particular person who is not undeserving of it. It is more natural, therefore, to think that the tendencies of the latter virtue will affect our sentiments and command our approbation than those of the former, and therefore, since we find that the approbation of the former arises from their tendencies, we may ascribe with better reason the same cause to the approbation of the latter. In any number of similar effects, if a cause can be discovered for one, we ought to extend that cause to all the other effects which can be accounted for by it, but much more if these other effects be attended with peculiar circumstances which facilitate the operation of that cause. Before I proceed farther, I must observe two remarkable circumstances in this affair which may seem objections to the present system. The first may be thus explained. When any quality or character has a tendency to the good of mankind, we are pleased with it and approve of it, because it presents the lively idea of pleasure, which idea affects us by sympathy and is itself a kind of pleasure. But as this sympathy is very variable, it may be thought that our sentiments of morals must admit of all the same variations. We sympathize more with persons contiguous to us than with persons remote from us, with our acquaintance than with strangers, with our countrymen than with foreigners. But notwithstanding this variation of our sympathy, we give the same approbation to the same moral qualities in China as in England. They appear equally virtuous and recommend themselves equally to the esteem of a judicious spectator. The sympathy varies without a variation in our esteem. Our esteem therefore proceeds not from sympathy. To this I answer. The approbation of moral qualities most certainly is not derived from reason or any comparison of ideas, but proceeds entirely from a moral taste and from certain sentiments of pleasure or disgust which arise upon the contemplation and view of particular qualities or characters. Now it is evident that those sentiments, whenever they are derived, must vary according to the distance or contiguity of the objects. Nor can I feel the same lively pleasure from the virtues of a person who lived in Greece two thousand years ago that I feel from the virtues of a familiar friend and acquaintance. Yet I do not say that I esteem the one more than the other, and therefore if the variation of the sentiment without a variation of the esteem be an objection it must have equal force against every other system as against that of sympathy. But to consider the matter a right it has no force at all, and it is the easiest matter in the world to account for it. Our situation with regard both to persons and things is in continual fluctuation, and a man that lies at a distance from us may, in a little time, become a familiar acquaintance. Besides, every particular man has a peculiar position with regard to others, and it is impossible we could ever converse together on any reasonable terms where each of us to consider characters and persons only as they appear from his peculiar point of view. In order, therefore, to prevent those continual contradictions and arrive at a more stable judgment of things, we fix on some steady and general points of view, and always in our thoughts place ourselves in them whatever may be our present situation. In like manner external beauty is determined merely by pleasure, and it is evident a beautiful countenance cannot give so much pleasure when seen at the distance of twenty bases as when it is brought nearer us. We say not, however, that it appears to us less beautiful, because we know what effect it will have in such a position, and by that reflection we correct its momentary appearance. In general, all sentiments of blame or praise are variable according to our situation of nearness or remoteness with regard to the person blamed or praised, and according to the present disposition of our mind. But these variations we regard not in our general decisions, but still apply the terms expressive of our liking or dislike in the same manner as if we remained in one point of view. Experience soon teaches us this method of correcting our sentiments, or at least of correcting our language, where the sentiments are more stubborn and inalterable. Our servant, if diligent and faithful, may excite stronger sentiments of love and kindness than Marcus Brutus has represented in history. But we say not upon that account that the former character is more laudable than the latter. We know that were we to approach equally near to that renowned patriot, he would command a much higher degree of affection and admiration. Such corrections are common with regard to all the senses, and indeed it were impossible we could ever make use of language or communicate our sentiments to one another did we not correct the momentary appearances of things and overlook our present situation. It is therefore from the influence of characters and qualities upon those who have an intercourse with any person that we blame or praise him, we consider not whether the persons affected by the qualities be our acquaintance or strangers, countrymen or foreigners. Nay, we overlook our own interest in those general judgments and blame not a man for opposing us in any of our pretensions when his own interest is particularly concerned. We make allowance for a certain degree of selfishness in men because we know it to be inseparable from human nature and inherent in our frame and constitution. By this reflection we correct those sentiments of blame which so naturally arise upon any opposition. But however the general principle of our blame or praise may be corrected by those other principles, it is certain they are not altogether efficacious, nor do our passions often correspond entirely to the present theory. It is seldom men heartily love what lies at a distance from them and what no way redounds to their particular benefit as it is no less rare to meet with persons who can pardon another any opposition he makes to their interest, however justifiable that opposition may be by the general rules of morality. Here we are contented with saying that reason requires such an impartial conduct but that it is seldom we can bring ourselves to it and that our passions do not readily follow the determination of our judgment. This language will be easily understood if we consider what we formerly said concerning that reason which is able to oppose our passion and which we have found to be nothing but a general calm determination of the passions founded on some distant view or reflection. When we form our judgments of persons merely from the tendency of their characters to our own benefit or to that of our friends we find so many contradictions to our sentiments in society and conversation and such an uncertainty from the incessant changes of our situation that we seek some other standard of merit and demerit which may not admit of so great variation. Being thus loosened from our first station we cannot afterwards fix ourselves so commodiously by any means as by a sympathy with those who have any commerce with the person we consider. This is far from being as lively as when our own interest is concerned or that of our particular friends nor has it such an influence on our love and hatred but being equally conformable to our calm and general principles it is said to have an equal authority over our reason and to command our judgment and opinion. We blame equally a bad action which we read of in history with one performed in our neighborhood the other day, the meaning of which is that we know from reflection that the former action would excite as strong sentiments of disapprobation as the latter where it placed in the same position. I now proceed to the second remarkable circumstance which I proposed to take notice of where a person is possessed of a character that in its natural tendency is beneficial to society we esteem him virtuous and are delighted with the view of his character even though particular accidents prevent its operation and incapacitate him from being serviceable to his friends and country. Virtue in rags is still virtue and the love which it procures attends a man into a dungeon or desert where the virtue can no longer be exerted in action and is lost to all the world. Now this may be esteemed an objection to the present system. Sympathy interests us in the good of mankind and if sympathy were the source of our esteem for virtue that sentiment of approbation could only take place where the virtue actually attained its end and was beneficial to mankind. Where it fails of its end it is only an imperfect means and therefore can never acquire any merit from that end. The goodness of an end can bestow a merit on such means alone as our complete and actually produce the end. To this we may reply that where any object in all its parts is fitted to attain any agreeable end it naturally gives us pleasure and is esteemed beautiful even though some external circumstances be wanting to render it altogether effectual. It is sufficient if everything be complete in the object itself. A house that is contrived with great judgment for all the commodities of life pleases us upon that account though perhaps we are sensible that no one will ever dwell in it. A fertile soil and a happy climate delight us by a reflection on the happiness which they would afford the inhabitants though at present the country be desert and uninhabited. A man whose limbs and shape, promise, strength, and activity is esteemed handsome though condemned to perpetual imprisonment. The imagination has a set of passions belonging to it upon which our sentiments of beauty much depend. These passions are moved by degrees of liveliness and strength which are inferior to belief and independent of the real existence of their objects. Where a character is in every respect fitted to be beneficial to society the imagination passes easily from the cause to the effect without considering that there are still some circumstances wanting to render the cause a complete one. General rules create a species of probability which sometimes influences the judgment and always the imagination. It is true when the cause is complete and a good disposition is attended with good fortune which renders it really beneficial to society it gives a stronger pleasure to the spectator and is attended with a more lively sympathy. We are more affected by it and yet we do not say that it is more virtuous or that we esteem it more. We know that an alteration of fortune may render the benevolent disposition entirely impotent and therefore we separate as much as possible the fortune from the disposition. The case is the same as when we correct the different sentiments of virtue which proceed from its different distances from ourselves. The passions do not always follow our corrections but these corrections serve sufficiently to regulate our abstract notions and are alone regarded when we pronounce in general concerning the degrees of vice and virtue. It is observed by critics that all words or sentences which are difficult to the pronunciation are disagreeable to the ear. There is no difference whether a man hear them pronounced or read them silently to himself. When I run over a book with my eye I imagine I hear it all and also by the force of imagination enter into the uneasiness which the delivery of it would give the speaker. The uneasiness is not real but as such a composition of words has a natural tendency to produce it this is sufficient to affect the mind with a painful sentiment and render the discourse harsh and disagreeable. It is a similar case where any real quality is by accidental circumstances rendered impotent and is deprived of its natural influence on society. Upon these principles we may easily remove any contradiction which may appear to be betwixt the extensive sympathy on which our sentiments of virtue depend and that limited generosity which I have frequently observed to be natural to men and which justice and property suppose according to the precedent reasoning. My sympathy with another may give me the sentiment of pain and disapprobation when any object is presented that has a tendency to give him uneasiness. Though I may not be willing to sacrifice anything of my own interest or cross any of my passions for his satisfaction, a house may displease me by being ill contrived for the convenience of the owner and yet I may refuse to give a shilling towards the rebuilding of it. Sentiments must touch the heart to make them control our passions but they need not extend beyond the imagination to make them influence our taste. When a building seems clumsy and tottering to the eye it is ugly and disagreeable, though we be fully assured of the solidity of the workmanship. It is a kind of fear which causes this sentiment of disapprobation but the passion is not the same with that which we feel when obliged to stand under a wall that we really think tottering and insecure. The seeming tendencies of objects affect the mind and the emotions they excite are of alike species with those which proceed from the real consequences of objects but their feeling is different. Nay, these emotions are so different in their feeling that they may often be contrary without destroying each other as when the fortifications of a city belonging to an enemy are esteemed beautiful upon account of their strength though we could wish that they were entirely destroyed. The imagination adheres to the general views of things and distinguishes the feelings they produce from those which arise from our particular and momentary situation. If we examine the panegerics that are commonly made of great men we shall find that most of the qualities which are attributed to them may be divided into two kinds that is such as make them perform their part in society and such as render them serviceable to themselves and enable them to promote their own interest. Their prudence, temperance, frugality, industry, aciduity, enterprise, dexterity are celebrated as well as their generosity and humanity. If we ever give an indulgence to any quality that disables a man from making a figure in life it is to that of indolence which is not supposed to deprive one of his parts and capacity but only suspends their exercise and that without any inconvenience to the person himself since it is in some measure from his own choice. Yet indolence is always allowed to be a fault and a very great one if extreme, nor do a man's friends ever acknowledge him to be subject to it but in order to save his character in more material articles. He could make a figure say they if he pleased to give the application. His understanding is sound, his conception quick and his memory tenacious, but he hates business and is indifferent about his fortune and this a man sometimes may make even a subject of vanity though with the air of confessing a fault because he may think that his incapacity for business implies much more noble qualities such as a philosophical spirit a fine taste a delicate wit or a relish for pleasure and society but take any other case suppose a quality that without being an indication of any other good qualities incapacitates a man always for business and is destructive to his interest such as a blundering understanding and a wrong judgment of everything in life in constancy and irresolution or a want of address in the management of men and business. These are all allowed to be imperfections in a character and many men would rather acknowledge the greatest crimes than have it suspected that they are in any degree subject to them. It is very happy in our philosophical researches when we find the same phenomenon diversified by a variety of circumstances and by discovering what is common among them can the better assure ourselves of the truth of any hypothesis we may make use of to explain it. Where nothing esteemed virtue but what were beneficial to society I am persuaded that the foregoing explication of the moral sense ought still to be received and that upon sufficient evidence but this evidence must grow upon us when we find other kinds of virtue which will not admit of any explication except from that hypothesis. Here is a man who is not remarkably defective in his social qualities but what principally recommends him is his dexterity in business by which he has extricated himself from the greatest difficulties and conducted the most delicate affairs with a singular address and prudence. I find an esteem for him immediately to arise in me. His company is a satisfaction to me and before I have any further acquaintance with him I would rather do him a service than another whose character is in every other respect equal but is deficient in that particular. In this case the qualities that please me are all considered as useful to the person and as having a tendency to promote his interest and satisfaction. They are only regarded as means to an end and please me in proportion to their fitness for that end. The end therefore must be agreeable to me but what makes the end agreeable? The person is a stranger. I am no way interested in him nor lie under any obligation to him. His happiness concerns not me farther than the happiness of every human and indeed of every sensible creature. That is, it affects me only by sympathy. From that principle whenever I discover his happiness and good whether in its causes or effects I enter so deeply into it that it gives me a sensible emotion. The appearance of qualities that have a tendency to promote it have an agreeable effect upon my imagination and command my love and esteem. This theory may serve to explain why the same qualities in all cases produce both pride and love, humility and hatred and the same man is always virtuous or vicious accomplished or despicable to others who is so to himself. A person in whom we discover any passion or habit which originally is only in comodious to himself becomes always disagreeable to us merely on its account as on the other hand one whose character is only dangerous and disagreeable to others can never be satisfied with himself as long as he is sensible of that disadvantage. Nor is this observable only with regard to characters and manners but may be remarked even in the most minute circumstances. A violent cough in another gives us uneasiness though in itself it does not in the least affect us. A man will be mortified if you tell him he has a stinking breath though it is evidently no annoyance to himself. Our fancy easily changes its situation and either surveying ourselves as we appear to others or considering others as they feel themselves we enter by that means into sentiments which no way belong to us and in which nothing but sympathy is able to interest us and this sympathy we sometimes carry so far has even to be displeased with a quality comodious to us merely because it displeases others and makes us disagreeable in their eyes though perhaps we never can have any interest in rendering ourselves agreeable to them. There have been many systems of morality advanced by philosophers in all ages but if they are strictly examined they may be reduced to two which alone merit our attention. Moral good and evil are certainly distinguished by our sentiments not by reason but these sentiments may arise either from the mere species or appearance of characters and passions or from reflections on their tendency to the happiness of mankind and of particular persons. My opinion is that both these causes are intermixed in our judgments of morals after the same manner as they are in our decisions concerning most kinds of external beauty. Though I am also of opinion that reflections on the tendencies of actions have by far the greatest influence and determine all the great lines of our duty. There are however instances in cases of less moment wherein this immediate taste or sentiment produces our approbation. Wit and a certain easy and disengaged behavior are qualities immediately agreeable to others and command their love and esteem. Some of these qualities produce satisfaction in others by particular original principles of human nature which cannot be accounted for. Others may be resolved into principles which are more general. This will best appear upon a particular inquiry. As some qualities acquire their merit from their being immediately agreeable to others without any tendency to public interest so some are denominated virtuous from their being immediately agreeable to the person himself who possesses them. Each of the passions and operations of the mind has a particular feeling which must be either agreeable or disagreeable. The first is virtuous, the second vicious. This particular feeling constitutes the very nature of the passion and therefore needs not be accounted for. But however directly the distinction of vice and virtue may seem to flow from the immediate pleasure or uneasiness which particular qualities cause to ourselves or others it is easy to observe that it has also a considerable dependence on the principle of sympathy so often insisted on. We approve of a person who is possessed of qualities immediately agreeable to those with whom he has any commerce though perhaps we ourselves never reaped any pleasure from them. We also approve of one who is possessed of qualities that are immediately agreeable to himself though they be of no service to any mortal. To account for this we must have recourse to the foregoing principles. Thus to take a general review of the present hypothesis every quality of the mind is denominated virtuous which gives pleasure by the mirror survey as every quality which produces pain is called vicious. This pleasure and this pain may arise from four different sources for we reap a pleasure from the view of a character which is naturally fitted to be useful to others or to the person himself or which is agreeable to others or to the person himself. One may perhaps be surprised that admits all these interests and pleasures we should forget our own which touch us so nearly on every other occasion. But we shall easily satisfy ourselves on this head when we consider that every particular person's pleasure and interest being different it is impossible men could ever agree in their sentiments and judgments unless they chose some common point of view from which they might survey their object and which might cause it to appear the same to all of them. Now in judging of characters the only interest or pleasure which appears the same to every spectator is that of the person himself whose character is examined or that of persons who have a connection with him and though such interests and pleasures touch us more faintly than our own yet being more constant and universal they counterbalance the latter even in practice and are alone admitted in speculation as the standard of virtue and morality. They alone produce that particular feeling or sentiment on which moral distinctions depend. As to the good or ill dessert of virtue or vice it is an evident consequence of the sentiments of pleasure or uneasiness. These sentiments produce love or hatred and love or hatred by the original constitution of human passion is attended with benevolence or anger that is with a desire of making happy the person we love and miserable the person we hate. We have treated of this more fully on another occasion. End of file 49