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Various strictures occur in the Characteristics; particularly in the treatise entitled Advice to an Author; but the most direct of all his attacks on Locke is in his Eighth Letter, addressed to a student at the university. 'All those called free writers, now-a-days,' he observes, 'have espoused those principles which Mr. Hobbes set a foot in this last age. Mr. Locke, as much as I honor him on account of other writings, and as well as I know him, and can answer for his sincerity as a most zealous Christian and believer, did, how ever, go in the self-same track. It was Mr. Locke that struck the home blow: for Mr. Hobbes's character, and base slavish principles of government, took off the poison of his philosophy. It was Mr. Locke that struck at all fundamentals, threw all order and virtue out of the world, and made the very idea of these (which are the same with those of God), unnatural and without foundation in our minds.'

This is the very same kind of language as that employed by the bishop of Worcester and the other ecclesiastical dignitaries and antagonists of Locke; though he was more than a match for them in argumentation. In opposition to all such imputations and charges Mr. Stewart insists, of course, that all the world, friends and foes, misunderstood Mr. Locke; and he brings forward some detached passages from his writings in confirmation of his ethical orthodoxy; such as the following:- He that hath the idea of an intelligent, but frail and weak, being, made by and depending on another, who is omnipotent, perfectly wise, and good, will as certainly know that man is to honor, fear, and obey God, as that the sun shines when he sees it; nor can he be surer, in a clear morning, that the sun is risen, if he will but open his eyes and look that way. But yet these truths, being never so certain, never so clear, he may be ignorant of either, or of all of them, who will never take the pains to employ his faculties as he should to inform himself about them.' There is a law of nature, as intelligible to a rational creature and studier of that law, as the positive laws of commonwealths.' "There is a great deal of difference between an innate law and a law of nature; between something imprinted on our minds in their very original, and something that we, being ignorant of, may attain to the knowledge of, by the use and due application of our natural faculties. And I think they equally forsake the truth who, recurring into the contrary extremes, either affirm an innate law, or deny that there is a law knowable by the light of nature, without the help of positive revelation.' He that, with Archelaus, shall lay it down as a principle that right and wrong, honest and dishonest, are defined only by laws, and not by nature, will have other measures of moral rectitude and pravity than those who take it for granted that we are under obligations antecedent to all human constitutions.'

Of course Mr. Stewart was dazzled and delighted with all this evidence that Mr. Locke, notwithstanding many suspicious reasonings, and though not a natural-sentiment or innate instinctive moral philosopher, might yet be ranked with Clarke and Wollaston as perfectly orthodox in the main, respecting the immutability of moral

distinctions, founded in the fitness of things, or in conformity to eternal truth. Nay, such was Mr. Locke's confidence in the law and light of nature, that he was disposed to make little or nothing of the law and light of revelation in comparison with them. Thus, in the concluding paragraph of the ninth chapter, in the third book of his essays, he says:- Nor is it to be wondered that the will of God, when clothed in words, should be liable to that doubt and uncertainty which unavoidably attends that sort of conveyance. And we ought to magnify his goodness that he hath spread before all the world such legible characters of his works and providence, and given all mankind so sufficient a light of reason, that they to whom the written word never came could not (whenever they set themselves to search), either doubt of the being of a God or of the obedience due to him. Since then the precepts of natural religion are plain and very intelligible to all mankind, and seldom come to be controverted; and revealed truths are liable to the common and natural obscurities and difficulties incident to words; methinks it would become us to be more careful and diligent in observing the former, and less magisterial, positive, and imperious, in imposing our sense and interpretations of the latter."

Such were the notions of Mr. Locke respecting the clearness and certainty of the light and law of nature; but such were not the notions of Hobbes, from whom he borrowed the mass of his materials. The truth is, Mr. Locke's great work is a motley mixture of eclectic inconsistencies, jumbled together with very little method; and, therefore, it is not very wonderful that Mr. Stewart should have to accuse all the world of misunderstanding him. Only it would have been more reasonable if the metaphysical critic. had dwelt more fully and explicitly on the evidence which exists, that Mr. Locke did not understand himself, or know well what he was about. Since, however, according to the high authority of lord Shaftesbury it was Locke who struck the home-blow at all fundamentals, and threw all order and virtue out of the world,' it surely becomes his admirers to be more tolerant towards the memory of his master, who was as superior, philosophically considered, to the disciple as ever Newton was to William Whiston.

In speaking of the ethical doctrines (for we thus term their speculations for the sake of brevity), of Hobbes and of Mandeville, we must begin by remarking that they are founded on a very bad opinion of human nature. In this respect their theories are diametrically opposite to those of most of the natural-sentiment moral philosophers. These last have a sort of beau ideal of human nature, around which their reasonings constantly revolve ;-they trace all that is great and good in human society, or is recorded in history, to good principles, tendencies, or instincts, in human nature; and much of what is manifestly evil, too, they would seem to trace to a good original tendency. On the other hand, Hobbes and Mandeville (and others whom it is not worth while to notice), would trace naturally all that is bad in the history of mankind to an evil original tendency, or to selfishness; but even all that is

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good, by a skilful management of the evil natural principle. Consequently the former are sentimental panegyrists; the latter are bitter satirists of human nature and human life. It has been laid down, as a kind of axiom, that there is usually more truth in satire than in panegyric; and we suspect the axiom will hold in the present case; and that there is at least a basis of truth about the doctrines of Hobbes and Mandeville which cannot be found in the opposite theories. They seem, at least, to accord best with the actual state and history of mankind; and what is very observable they harmonize very much with the doctrine of the bible; which pronounces the 'heart of man deceitful above all things and desperately wicked;' and that men go astray from the womb speaking lies.' If the doctrines of the bible be calculated to abase man, and to stain the pride of human glory, the same may be affirmed of those of Hobbes and Mandeville. The former of these may be compared to Heraclitus, the latter to Democritus; for, as there was something of gloom in the one at beholding the evil which he described, it seems to have been a wicked pleasure to the other to paint human nature in the ugliest and most contemptible forms and colors. Hogarth could never enjoy the work of his hand more than this coarse Dutchman the broad graphic touches of his pen in describing human nature. Mandeville is indeed the Hogarth of moral painters, and we always fancy that we see him in propriâ personâ grinning from behind the canvas. We would have all the ardent lovers of the beau ideal of human nature read Mandeville; and their dulness or their resentment at the insult offered to human dignity must be very powerful indeed if they can long maintain their gravity. If it be all a false picture, or wicked, wilful, misrepresentation, of our noble nature which he gives, he has at least the art of caricaturing its imperfections with infinite dexterity. But though there be much acuteness and talent, and much philosophy too, about the author of the fable of the Bees, or Private Vices Public Benefits, we cannot praise him, or regard him as any thing but a licentious satirist, who wantonly compounds all moral distinctions. In representing human nature as radically bad he accords with the testimony of sacred Scripture; but at that point, abstractedly considered, the accordance stops. The manner and spirit of Mandeville, and his deductions and reasonings from the doctrine of human pravity, are as opposite to those of the bible as darkness is to light. The good men described as writing that book under supernatural guidance, and most of all He whom reverence will not permit us to name in such a connexion, resembled Heraclitus rather than Democritus or Mandeville. The following is a concise but just statement of Mandeville's theory:

In some measure akin to the theory of such political moralists as Hobbes, since it ascribes morality, in like manner, to human contrivance, is the system of Mandeville, who considers the general praise of virtue to be a mere artifice of political skill; and what the world consents to praise as virtue in the individual, to be a mere imposition on the part of the virtuous man.

Human life, in short, according to him, is a constant intercourse of hypocrisy with hypocrisy ; in which, by an involuntary self-denial, present enjoyment of some kind or other is sacrificed for the pleasure of that praise which society, as cunning as the individual self-denier, is ready to give, but gives only in return for sacrifices made to its advantage. That man, like all other animals, is naturally solicitous only of his personal gratification, without regard to the happiness or misery of others; that the great point with the original lawgivers, or tamers of these human animals, was to obtain from them the sacrifice of individual gratification, for the greater happiness of others; that this sacrifice, however, could not be expected from creatures that cared only for themselves, unless a full equivalent were offered for the enjoyment sacrificed; that as this, at least in the greater number of cases, could not be found in objects of sensual gratification, or in the means of obtaining sensual gratification, which are given in exchange in common purchases, it was necessary to have recourse to some other appetite of man; that the natural appetite of man for praise readily presented itself for this useful end, and that, by flattering him into the belief that he would be counted nobler for the sacrifices which he might make, he was led accordingly to purchase this praise by a fair barter of that, which, though he valued it much, and would not have parted with it but for some equivalent or greater gain, he still valued less than the praise which he was to acquire; that the moral virtues, therefore, to use his strong expression, are the political offspring which flattery begot upon pride;' and that when we think we see virtue, we see only the indulgence of some frailty, or the expectation of some praise.'

The above theory is worked up with much effect, and enlivened by striking sketches from low life; and it must be confessed there has always been too much in the actual character of society to give an air of fidelity to the whole representation. In fact, we doubt whether it be not actually a true picture as to the great majority of every people. Rochefoucault, who had so much opportunity and talent for observing the society of a court, resolves all virtue, like Mandeville and Montaigne, and some other acute and reflecting men, into self-love, of which the desire of praise is merely one of its many forms. And sure enough much of what passes and is praised as virtue in the world is quite worthy of such an ignoble origin; and it is amusing to observe what description of illustrations the moral philosophers run to, with breathless eagerness, whenever they wish to set off, to the best advantage, the beau ideal of human excellence, the native dignity of man, and his innate delight in virtue. If our space would permit, we would give some admirable specimens from Dr. Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, and from Dr. Brown's Lectures; for we would not think of. quoting for the purpose from inferior authors, or mere sentimental declaimers. If however all men could be brought to think absolutely with Mandeville, we might expect indeed that a home blow would be struck at all fundamentals, and that all real virtue would be thrown out of

the world.' But there has always been a portion of moral salt in the earth; there have, even in the worst times, been higher principles and influences in operation than those which the Mandeville's understand, and which alone they are qualified to appreciate.

The theory of Hobbes, as already indicated, if not absolutely the same as that of Mandeville, is at least nearly akin to it; in short, the one is, as much as the other, only a modification of the same atheistical system, which assumes the original moral indifference of actions, which considers all morality as mutable and adventitious, a mere entity of circumstances, being sometimes right, sometimes wrong, at one time or place good, at another bad, according to human opinions, prejudices, passions, and habits. This is the basis of what is usually called the new or French philosophy. And it is well for the world that it finds, at least in many of the best and most influential minds, something as steady and powerful as a moral instinct to repel it. Nor is it without benefit to mankind (for thus good is educed from evil) that such a philosophy should have an opportunity occasionally of developing its latent qualities, and of performing its mighty works or miracles in the open theatre of the world, and in the full view of all nations. The whole process of the French revolution was a sort of experiment in the new philosophy, to demonstrate how innoxious and salutary, how good and profitable to men, atheism is, in all its tendencies, operations, and results. If, according to the followers of Epicurus, fear was the creator of the gods, atheism has had a good chance of being deified and worshipped; for even many of its boldest and most reckless advocates have been dismayed with terror when they have seen its goings forth in the sanctuary of infidelity, arrayed in the awful majesty of irresistible power. The most benevolent amelioraters of the social union or political condition, the most philanthropic utilitarian philosophers, have had enough of evidence laid before them to make them despair of doing much good to the human race on Epicurean principles. Perhaps if the author of De Cive and of Leviathan were to return to our world, and write upon political and moral subjects, his reasonings would have less affinity with those of Aristippus, of Archelaus, or of Epicurus, than they had before. The moral and political speculations and experiments that have been made within the last hundred years would not be lost upon him; and we would willingly trust his understanding in metaphysical matters, provided it were free from every theoretic bias, and were not under the influence of any moral antipathy to religion.

Hobbes was an acute metaphysician, but he was in effect, or rather in reality, a confirmed atheist. He admitted the Being of a God, or first cause, but he denied the possibility of knowing any thing about Him or It, or what that first cause is or was. Of course this is to all intents and purposes atheism. If we were not afraid of being misunderstood we would say that Hobbes was too good a metaphysician-too acute and reflective-too much of an analytic reasoner to be a mere theist. Such assumptions, and

paralogisms, and conclusions, as satisfy the common multitude of deists, could not satisfy his mind; and, being invincibly opposed to revelation, he embraced a particular modification of atheism as the least absurd or most reasonable kind of belief that he could, or rather would, find. Hobbes could not have reasoned and written, as Mr. Locke has done, about the clearness and certainty of the law of nature, and of the precepts of natural religion.

From atheism of every description or modification the absolute moral indifference of actions necessarily follows; or, as Shaftesbury expresses it, all virtue is thrown out of the world; there may be qualities and actions of human beings that they like or dislike in one another, and reward or punish; there may be political distinctions, and virtues, and vices; but there can be nothing that has been usually called, or that deserves to be called, moral distinctions, or virtues and vices. Hobbes was too acute not to perceive this, and he was too frank not to own it; and therefore he at once resolved all right and wrong, all morality, into the discretionary decision of political authority. In short, according to Hobbes, the government, whatever that government be, whether a democracy or aristocracy, a mixed or simple monarchy, or pure despotism, is the sole lawgiver and judge of morality. This supreme authority can do no wrong, and whatever it decrees is right; and conformity to its decrees is the only immutability morality admits of. The will of king, lords, and commons, is to enact, abrogate, alter, and amend, the moral code, as seemeth good. We have been long said to have an act-of-parliament religion; but it appears we ought to have an act-of-parliament morality also. Nay, we may have an established national morality by a much shorter process, if we choose to enjoy all its benefits. The royal will of a Philip or Ferdinand, of a czar or grand signior, of a Nero or Caligula, is, according to Hobbes, the sole origin, and standard, and measure, of right and wrong, of virtue and vice. But enough; this is too palpable to require refutation. Yet strange, absurd, and bad, as it appears to us, what was Hobbes to do in the matter of morality on his previously assumed atheistical principles? What have others, upon the same principles, been able to do materially different, or better? Let us enquire by examining Mr. Hume's theory of morals.

We have said Mr. Hume's theory; but the term, though sufficiently vague, is too definite to be applied to the opinions or speculations of such a subtle, flexible, shifting reasoner, as the author of An Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, who always contrives to make one set of reasonings counterbalance another, and one sort of principle supersede some other sort of principle; as if the only conclusion possible to come to is, that nothing can be concluded, and that all is vanity, and vexation, and scepticism. Mr. Addison has somewhere said, that he could never rise from the reading of those authors who give degrading representations of our noble nature without being out of humor with himself and every body about him; and we seldom rise from the reading of Hume without being out

of humor with him and his reasonings. Having, in his usual manner of mooting the question as alternate plaintiff and defendant, drawn up in counterarray the arguments pro and con, he then takes his seat on the tribunal of dispassionate judgment, and sums up the whole with the most calm and grave indifference imaginable. These arguments on each side (and many more might be produced) are so plausible, that I am apt to suspect, they may, the one as well as the other, be solid and satisfactory; and that reason and sentiment concur in almost all moral determinations and conclusions. The final sentence, it is probable, which pronounces characters and actions amiable or odious, praiseworthy or blameable; that which stamps on them the mark of honor or infamy, approbation or censure; that which renders morality an active principle, and constitutes virtue our happiness, and vice our misery. It is probable, I say, that this final sentence depends on some internal sense or feeling which nature has made universal in the whole species. For what else can have an influence of this nature? But in order to pave the way for such a sentiment, and give a proper discernment of its object, it is often necessary, we find, that much reasoning should precede, that nice distinctions be made, just conclusions drawn, distant comparisons formed, complicated relations examined, and general facts fixed and ascertained.'

This is the first hearing of the chancery case concerning the principles of morals; and our philosopher has had an opportunity of showing all the world that he was as wonderful in judgment as mighty in counsel that he could be as able a judge on the bench, as erst he was a special pleader at the bar. The claims of reason and of sentiment are held to be equally good, and the question is kept in abeyance. Accordingly in the further hearing of the case the claims of reason seem not only admitted, but exclusively in the first steps of progress attended to; and utility is with some doubt and hesitation thought to be probably, in part at least, the origin and measure of virtue. We may observe, that in displaying the praises of any humane beneficent man, there is one circumstance which never fails to be amply insisted on, namely, the happiness and satisfaction derived to society from his intercourse and good offices. *** As such topics of praise never fail to be employed, and with success, where we would inspire esteem for any one; may it not thence be concluded, that the utility resulting from the social virtues forms at least a part of their merit, and is one source of that approbation and regard so universally paid to them? 'When we recommend even an animal or plant as useful and beneficial, we give it an applause and recommendation suited to its nature. * A machine, a piece of furniture, a vestment, a house well contrived for use and conveniency is so far beautiful, and is contemplated with pleasure and approbation. *** In general, what praise is employed in the simple epithet useful! What reproach in the contrary!

It would seem then that in part at least utility is merit, and that a good man has at least as much virtue about him as a good machine, or piece of furniture, or vestment, or well-contrived

house. In the further hearings of the case, our judge gets rid of his doubt and hesitation, and pronounces finally and absolutely.in favor of utility, as forming not a part merely, but the whole of merit. All the virtues are resolved into or ascribed to utility. This is the principle of all moral distinctions-the only source and standard and measure of all human excellence; and as reason must find out what is useful about men or machines, or vestments, of course moral distinctions are referrible to reason and not to sentiment. Now then that morality is placed on the firm and broad foundation of utility, in conformity with reason, it will surely rest and remain secure. We might have supposed, at least, that the judge would not have disturbed his own decision, so fully and gravely delivered, after so hesitatingly and patiently weighing all the arguments and evidence; but it was scarcely recorded when the sentence must be reversed; for it is found out, by a sort of after-process of reasoning, that utility and reason have nothing at all to do with merit, or virtue, or morality; but that the whole is ascribable to mere blind sentiment, for which no reason can be assigned, the very attempt to account for which, indeed, is ridiculed as absurd. The philosophic advocate of utility as the sole foundation of all morality can easily abandon his client, unsay all his wise sayings, counterargue all his own arguments, and wriggle out of all the obligations of consistency into full and free liberty to take up whatever new position vanity, or scepticism, or sophistry may present. The following is the prelusive flourish in showing a more excellent way of moral philosophy than that of utility and reason:

"Treating vice with the greatest candor, and making it all possible concessions, we must acknowledge, that there is not in any instance the smallest pretext for giving it the preference above virtue, with a view to self-interest; except, perhaps, in the case of justice, where a man, taking things in a certain light, may often seem to be a loser by integrity. And though it is allowed that without a regard to property no society could subsist; yet, according to the imperfect way in which human affairs are conducted, a sensible knave, in particular incidents, may think that an act of iniquity or infidelity will make a considerable addition to his fortune, without causing any considerable breach in the social union and confederacy. That 'honesty is the best policy,' may be a good general rule; but is liable to many exceptions: and he, it may perhaps be thought, conducts himself with most wisdom who observes the general rule, and takes advantage of all the exceptions. I confess that if a man thinks that this reasoning requires an answer, it will be a little difficult to find any which will to him appear satisfactory and convincing.'

Very well stated: we wish not to have the doctrine of utilitarian moral philosophy differently handled; this is at least one useful and convincing way of examining its character and credentials. But hear him out:-If the foregoing hypothesis be received, it will now be easy for us to determine the first question started, (started truly to be run down!) concerning the

we may re

general principle of morals,
sume it at present, and examine how far either
reason or sentiment enters into all decisions of
praise or censure. One principal foundation of
moral praise being supposed to lie in the useful-
ness of any quality or action, it is evident that
reason must enter for a considerable share in all
decisions of this kind; since nothing but that
faculty can instruct us in the tendency of quali-
ties and actions, and point out their beneficial
consequences to society and to their possessor.
In many cases this is an affair liable to great con-
troversy doubts may arise; opposite interests
may occur; and a preference must be given to
one side from very nice views, and a small over-
balance of utility. *** Though reason, when
fully assisted and improved, be sufficient to in-
struct us in the pernicious or useful tendency of
qualities and actions, it is not alone sufficient to
produce any moral blame or approbation. Utility
is only a tendency to a certain end; and, were
the end totally indifferent to us, we should feel
the same indifference towards the means. It is
requisite a sentiment should here display itself,
in order to give a preference to the useful above
the pernicious tendencies.'

Our moral philosopher soon becomes more explicit and peremptory; and if the sceptic be any where transmuted into a dogmatist it is when treating of what he terms the blind but sure testimony of taste and sentiment.' The hypothesis (he says, Appendix 1, concerning Moral Sentiment) which we embrace is plain. It maintains that morality is determined by sentiment; it defines virtue to be whatever mental action or quality gives a spectator the pleasing sentiment of approbation; and vice the contrary. We then proceed to examine a plain matter of fact, to wit, what actions have this influence: we consider all the circumstances in which these actions agree: and thence endeavour to extract some general observations with regard to these sentiments. If you call this metaphysics, and find any thing abstruse here, you need only conclude that your turn of mind is not suited to the moral sciences.

***

When Nero killed Agrippina, all the relations between himself and the person, and all the circumstance of the fact, were previously known to him: but the motive of revenge, or fear, or interest, prevailed in his savage heart over the sentiment of duty and humanity. And when we express that detestation against him, to which he himself in a little time became insensible; it is not that we see any relations of which he was ignorant; but that, from the rectitude of our disposition, we feel sentiments against which he was hardened, from flattery and a long perseverance in the most enormous crimes. In these sentiments then, not in a discovery of relations of any kind, do all moral determinations consist. Before we can pretend to form any decision of this kind, every thing must be known and ascertained on the side of the object or action. Nothing remains but to feel, on our part, some sentiment of blame or approbation; whence we pronounce the action criminal or virtuous.

This doctrine will become still more evident, if we compare inoral beauty with natural, to which, in many particulars, it bears so near a re

semblance. *** In all decisions of taste or external beauty, all the relations are before hand obvious to the eye; and we thence proceed to feel a sentiment of complacency or disgust, according to the nature of the object and disposition of our organs. *** Attend to Cicero, while he paints the crimes of a Verres or a Catiline; you must acknowledge that the moral turpitude results, in the same manner, from the contemplation of the whole, when presented to a being, whose organs have such a particular structure and formation. The orator may paint rage, insolence, barbarity on the one side: meekness, suffering, sorrow, innocence, on the other: but if you feel no indignation or compassion arise in you, from this complication of circumstances, you would in vain ask in what consists the crime or villany which he so vehemently exclaims against; at what time, or on what subject, it first began to exist; and what has become of it a few months afterwards, when every disposition and thought of all the actors is totally altered, or annihilated. No satisfactory answer can be given to any of these questions upon the abstract hypothesis of morals; and we must at last acknowledge, that the crime or immorality is no particular fact or relation, which can be the object of the understanding: but arises entirely from the sentiment of disapprobation, which, by the structure of human nature, we unavoidably feel on the apprehension of barbarity or treachery.

'It appears evident that the ultimate ends of human actions can never, in any case, be accounted for by reason, but recommend themselves entirely to the sentiments and affections of mankind without any dependence on the intellectual faculties. *** Something must be desirable on its own account, and because of its immediate accord or agreement with human sentiment and affection. Now as virtue is an end, and is desirable on its own account, without fee or reward, merely for the immediate satisfaction which it conveys; it is requisite that there should be some sentiment which it touches; some internal taste or feeling, or whatever you please to call it, which distinguishes moral good and evil, and which embraces the one and rejects the other. Thus the distinct boundaries and offices of reason and of taste are easily ascertained. The former conveys the knowledge of truth and falsehood: the latter gives the sentiment of beauty and deformity, vice and virtue. The one discovers objects, as they really stand in nature, without addition or diminution: the other has a foductive faculty, and gilding or staining all na ural objects with the colors, borrowed from i...ernal sentiment, raises in a manner, a new creation.'

It would be superfluous to quote more, though pages might be presented to the same purpose. This is one of the doctrines of Hume which he varies and repeats incessantly. It meets us every where in his Essays, particularly in one entitled The Sceptic, and in another on the Standard of Taste. The reason is obvious: it is a true sceptical doctrine; and scepticism was his intellectual centre of gravity, or the easy chair into which he naturally fell back' (to use his own expression) to enjoy philosophic tranquillity. Virtue and vice, like beauty and deformity, are wholly an affair of

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