A TREATISE OF HUMAN NATURE
by David Hume (1740) FINISH ADJUSTING MARGINS!
. . . . .
ADVERTISEMENT
I think it proper to inform the public, that tho this be a third volume
of the
Treatise of Human Nature, yet tis in some measure independent of the other two, and
requires not that the reader shoud enter into all the abstract reasonings
containd in them. I am hopeful it may be understood by ordinary readers, with as
little attention as is usually given to any books of reasoning. It must only be
observd, that I continue to make use of the terms, impressions and ideas, in the
same sense as formerly; and that by impressions I mean our stronger perceptions, such as
our sensations, affections and sentiments; and by ideas the fainter perceptions, or the
copies of these in the memory and imagination.
BOOK III. OF MORALS. PART I.
OF VIRTUE AND VICE IN GENERAL. SECTION I.
Moral Distinctions not derivd from Reason.
. . . . .
It has been observd, that nothing is ever present to the mind but
its perceptions; and that all the actions of seeing, hearing, judging, loving, hating, and
thinking, fall under this denomination. The mind can never exert itself in any action,
which we may not comprehend under the term of perception; and consequently that term is no
less applicable to those judgments, by which we distinguish moral good and evil, than to
every other operation of the mind. To approve of one character, to condemn another, are
only so many different perceptions.
Now as perceptions resolve themselves into two kinds, viz. Impressions
and ideas, this distinction gives rise to a question, and which we shall open up our
present enquiry concerning morals, Whether tis by means of our ideas or impressions
we distinguish betwixt vice and virtue, and pronounce an action blameable or
praise-worthy? This will immediately cut off all loose discourses and declamations, and
reduce us to something precise and exact on the present subject.
Those who affirm that virtue is nothing but a conformity to reason;
that there are eternal fitnesses and unfitnesses of things, which are the same to every
rational being that considers them; that the immutable measures of right and wrong impose
an obligation, not only on human creatures, but also on the Deity himself: All these
systems concur in the opinion, that morality, like truth, is discernd merely by
ideas, [2] and by their juxta-position and comparison. In order, therefore, to judge of
these systems, we need only consider, whether it be possible, from reason alone, to
distinguish betwixt moral good and evil, or whether there must concur some other
principles to enable us to make that distinction.
If morality had naturally no influence on human passions and actions,
twere in vain to take such pains to inculcate it; and nothing woud be more
fruitless than that multitude of rules and precepts, with which all moralists abound.
Philosophy is commonly divided into speculative and practical; and as morality is always
comprehended under the latter division, tis supposed to influence our passions and
actions, and to go beyond the calm and indolent judgments of the understanding. And this
is confirmd by common experience, which informs us, that men are often governd
by their duties, and are deterd from some actions by the opinion of injustice, and
impelld to others by that of obligation.
Since morals, therefore, have an influence on the actions and
affections, it follows, that they cannot be derivd from reason; and that because
reason alone, as we have already provd, can never have any such influence. Morals
excite passions, and produce or prevent actions. Reason of itself is utterly impotent in
this particular. The rules of morality, therefore, are not conclusions of our reasons.
No one, I believe, will deny the justness of this inference; nor is
there any other means of evading it, than by denying that principle, on which it is
founded. As long as it is allowd, that reason has no influence on our passions and
actions, tis in vain to pretend, that morality is discoverd only by a
deduction of reason. An active principle can never be founded on an inactive; and if
reason be inactive in itself, it must remain so in all its shapes and appearances, whether
it exerts itself in natural or moral subjects, whether it considers the powers of external
bodies, or the actions of rational beings.
It would be tedious to repeat all the arguments, by which I have
provd , that reason is perfectly inert, and can never either prevent or produce any
action or affection. Twill be easy to recollect what has been said upon that
subject. I shall only recall on this occasion one of these arguments, which I shall
endeavour to render still more conclusive, and more applicable to the present subject.
Reason is the discovery of truth or falshood. Truth or falshood
consists in an agreement or disagreement either to the real relations of ideas, or to real
existence and matter of fact. Whatever, therefore, is not susceptible of this agreement or
disagreement, is incapable of being true or false, and can never be an object of our
reason. Now tis evident our passions, volitions, and actions, are not susceptible of
any such agreement or disagreement; being original facts and realities, compleat in
themselves, and implying no reference to other passions, volitions, and actions. Tis
impossible, therefore, they can be pronounced either true or false, and be either contrary
or conformable to reason.
This argument is of double advantage to our present purpose. For it
proves directly, that actions do not derive their merit from a conformity to reason, nor
their blame from a contrariety to it; and it proves the same truth more indirectly, by
shewing us, that as reason can never immediately prevent or produce any action by [3]
contradicting or approving of it, it cannot be the source of the distinction betwixt moral
good and evil, which are found to have that influence. Actions may be laudable or
blameable; but they cannot be reasonable or unreasonable: Laudable or blameable,
therefore, are not the same with reasonable or unreasonable. The merit and demerit of
actions frequently contradict, and sometimes controul our natural propensities. But reason
has no such influence. Moral distinctions, therefore, are not the offspring of reason.
Reason is wholly inactive, and can never be the source
of so active a principle as conscience, or a sense of morals.
But perhaps it may be said, that tho no will or action can be
immediately contradictory to reason, yet we may find such a contradiction in some of the
attendants of the action, that is, in its causes or effects. The action may cause a
judgment, or may be obliquely causd by one, when the judgment concurs with a
passion; and by an abusive way of speaking, which philosophy will scarce allow of, the
same contrariety may, upon that account, be ascribd to the action. How far this
truth or falshood may be the source of morals, twill now be proper to consider.
It has been observd, that reason, in a strict and philosophical
sense, can have an influence on our conduct only after two ways: Either when it excites a
passion by informing us of the existence of something which is a proper object of it; or
when it discovers the connexion of causes and effects, so as to afford us means of
exerting any passion. These are the only kinds of judgment, which can accompany our
actions, or can be said to produce them in any manner; and it must be allowd, that
these judgments may often be false and erroneous. A person may be affected with passion,
by supposing a pain or pleasure to lie in an object, which has no tendency to produce
either of these sensations, or which produces the contrary to what is imagind. A
person may also take false measures for the attaining his end, and may retard, by his
foolish conduct, instead of forwarding the execution of any project. These false judgments
may be thought to affect the passions and actions, which are connected with them, and may
be said to render them unreasonable, in a figurative and improper way of speaking. But
tho this be acknowledgd, tis easy to observe, that these errors are so
far from being the source of all immorality, that they are commonly very innocent, and
draw no manner of guilt upon the person who is so unfortunate as to fall into them. They
extend not beyond a mistake of fact, which moralists have not generally supposd
criminal, as being perfectly involuntary. I am more to be lamented than blamd, if I
am mistaken with regard to the influence of objects in producing pain or pleasure, or if I
know not the proper means of satisfying my desires. No one can ever regard such errors as
a defect in my moral character. A fruit, for instance, that is really disagreeable,
appears to me at a distance, and thromistake I fancy it to be pleasant and
delicious. Here is one error. I choose certain means of reaching this fruit, which are not
proper for my end. Here is a second error; nor is there any third one, which can ever
possibly enter into our reasonings concerning actions. I ask, therefore, if a man, in this
situation, and guilty of these two errors, is to be regarded as vicious and criminal,
however unavoidable they might have been? Or if it be possible to imagine, that such
errors are the sources of all immorality?
. . . . .
As to those judgments which are the effects of our actions, and which,
when false, give occasion to pronounce the actions contrary to truth and reason; we may
observe, that our actions never cause any judgment, either true or false, in ourselves,
and that tis only on others they have such an influence. Tis certain, that an
action, on many occasions, may give rise to false conclusions in others; and that a
person, who thro a window sees any lewd behavior of mine with my neighbours
wife, may be so simple as to imagine she is certainly my own. In this respect my action
resembles somewhat a lye or falshood; only with this difference, which is material, that I
perform not the action with any intention of giving rise to a false judgment in another,
but merely to satisfy my lust and passion. It causes, however, a mistake and false
judgment by accident; and the falshood of its effects may be ascribed, by some odd
figurative way of speaking, to the action itself. But still I can see no pretext of reason
for asserting, that the tendency to cause such an error is the first spring or original
source of all immorality. [footnote omitted]
Thus upon the whole, tis impossible, that the distinction
betwixt moral good and evil, can be made by reason; since that distinction has an
influence upon our actions, of which reason alone is incapable. Reason and judgment may,
indeed, be the mediate cause of an action, by prompting, or by directing a
passion: But it is not pretended, that a judgment of this kind, either in its truth or
falshood, is attended with virtue or vice. And as to the judgments, which are caused by
our [actions], they can still less bestow those moral qualities on the actions, which are
their causes.
But to be more particular, and to shew, that those eternal immutable fitnesses and unfitnesses of things cannot be defended by sound philosophy, we may weigh the following considerations.
If the thought and understanding were alone capable of fixing the
boundaries of right and wrong, the character of virtuous and vicious either must lie in
some
relations of objects, or must be a matter of fact, which is discovered by our
reasoning. This consequence is evident. As the operations of human understanding divide
themselves into two kinds, the comparing of ideas, and the inferring of matter of fact;
were virtue discoverd by the understanding; it must be an object of one of these
operations, nor is there any third operation of the understanding, which can discover it.
There has been an opinion very industriously propagated by certain philosophers, that
morality is susceptible of demonstration; and tho no one has ever been able to
advance a single step in those demonstrations; yet tis taken for granted, that this
science may be brought to an equal certainty with geometry or algebra. Upon this
supposition, vice and virtue must consist in some relations; since tis allowd
on all hands, that no matter of fact is capable of being demonstrated. Let us, therefore,
begin with examining this hypothesis, and endeavor, if possible, to fix those moral
qualities, which have been so long the objects of our fruitless researches.
Point out distinctly the relations, which constitute morality or obligation, that we may
know wherein they consist, and after what manner we must judge of them.
. . . . .
[5]
But to make these general reflexions more clear and convincing, we may
illustrate them by some particular instances, wherein this character of moral good or evil
is the most universally acknowledged. Of all crimes that human creatures are capable of
committing, the most horrid and unnatural is ingratitude, especially when it is committed
against parents, and appears in the more flagrant instances of wounds and death. This is
acknowledgd by all mankind, philosophers as well as the people; the question only
arises among philosophers, whether the guilt or moral deformity of this action be
discoverd by demonstrative reasoning, or be felt by an internal sense, and by means
of some sentiment, which the reflecting on such an action naturally occasions. This
question will soon be decided against the former opinion, if we can
shew the same relations in other objects, without the notion of any guilt or iniquity
attending them. Reason or science is nothing but the comparing of ideas, and the discovery
of their relations; and if the same relations have different characters, it must evidently
follow, that those characters are not discoverd merely by reason. To put the affair,
therefore, to this trial, let us chuse any inanimate object, such as an oak or elm; and
let us suppose, that by the dropping of its seed, it produces a sapling below it, which
springing up by degrees, at last overtops and destroys the parent tree: I ask, if in this
instance there be wanting any relation, which is discoverable in parricide or ingratitude?
Is not the one tree the cause of the others existence; and the latter the cause of
the destruction of the former, in the same manner as when a child murders his parent?
Tis not sufficient to reply, that a choice or will is wanting. For in the case of
parricide, a will does not give rise to any different relations, but is only the cause
from which the action is derivd; and consequently produces the same relations, that
in the oak or elm arise from some other principles.
Tis a will or choice, that determines a man to kill his parent; and they are the
laws of matter and motion, that determine a sapling to destroy the oak, from which it
sprung. Here then the same relations have different causes; but still the relations are
the same: And as their discovery is not in both cases attended with a notion of
immorality, it follows, that that notion does not arise from such a discovery.
But to choose an instance, still more resembling; I would fain ask any
one,
why incest in the human species is criminal, and why the very same action, and the same
relations in animals have not the smallest moral turpitude and deformity? If it be
answerd, that this action is innocent in animals, because they have not reason
sufficient to discover its turpitude; but that man, being endowd with that faculty,
which ought to restrain him to his duty, the same action instantly becomes criminal to
him; should this be said, I would reply, that this is evidently arguing in a circle. For
before reason can perceive this turpitude, the turpitude must exist; and consequently is
independent of the decisions of our reason, and is their object more properly than their
effect. According to this system, then, every animal, that has sense, and appetite, and
will that is, every animal must be susceptible of all the same virtues and vices, for
which we ascribe praise and blame to human creatures. All the difference is, that our
superior reason may serve to discover the vice or virtue, and by
that means may augment the blame or praise: But still this discovery supposes a
separate being in these moral distinctions, and a being, which depends only on the [6]
will and appetite, and which, both in thought and reality, may be distinguishd from
the reason. Animals are susceptible of the same relations, with respect to each other, as
the human species, and therefore woud also be susceptible of the same morality, if
the essence of morality consisted in these relations. Their want of a sufficient degree of
reason may hinder them from perceiving the duties and obligations of morality, but can
never hinder these duties from existing; since they must antecedently exist, in order to
their being perceivd. Reason must find them, and can never produce them. This
argument deserves to be weighd, as being, in my opinion, entirely decisive.
Nor does this reasoning only prove, that morality consists not in any
relations, that are the objects of science; but if examind, will prove with equal
certainty, that it consists not in any matter of fact, which can be discoverd by the
understanding. This is the second part of our argument; and if it can be made evident, we
may conclude, that morality is not an object of reason. But can there be any difficulty in
proving, that vice and virtue are not matters of fact, whose existence we can infer by
reason? Take any action allowd to be vicious: Wilful murder, for instance. Examine
it in all lights, and see if you can find that matter of fact, or real existence, which
you call vice. In which-ever way you take it, you find only certain passions, motives,
volitions and thoughts. There is no other matter of fact in the case. The vice entirely
escapes you, as long as you consider the object. You never can find it, till you turn your
reflexion into your own breast, and find a sentiment of disapprobation, which arises in
you, towards this action. Here is a matter of fact; but tis the object of feeling,
not of reason. It lies in yourself, not in the object. So that when you pronounce any
action or character to be vicious, you mean nothing, but
that from the constitution of your nature you have a feeling or sentiment of blame from
the contemplation of it. Vice and virtue, therefore, may be compard to sounds,
colours, heat and cold, which, according to modern philosophy, are not qualities in
objects, but perceptions in the mind: And this discovery in morals, like that other in
physics, is to be regarded as a considerable advancement of the speculative sciences;
tho, like that too, it has little or no influence on practice. Nothing can be more
real, or concern us more, than our own sentiments of pleasure and uneasiness; and if these
be favourable to virtue, and unfavourable to vice, no more can be requisite to the
regulation of our conduct and behaviour.
I cannot forbear adding to these reasonings an observation, which may,
perhaps, be found of some importance. In every system of morality, which I have hitherto
met with, I have always remarkd, that the author proceeds for some time in the
ordinary way of reasoning, and establishes the being of a God, or makes observations
concerning human affairs; when of a sudden I am surprizd to find, that instead of
the usual copulations of propositions, is, and is not, I meet with no proposition that is
not connected with an ought, or an ought not. This change is imperceptible; but is,
however, of the last consequence. For as this ought, or ought not, expresses some new
relation or affirmation, tis necessary that it shoud be observd and
explaind; and at the same time that a reason should be given, for what seems
altogether inconceivable, how this new relation can be a deduction from [7] others, which
are entirely different from it. But as authors do not commonly use this precaution, I
shall presume to recommend it to the readers; and am persuaded, that this small attention
woud subvert all the vulgar systems of morality, and let us see, that the
distinction of vice and virtue is not founded merely on the relations of objects, nor is
perceivd by reason.
SECTION II.
Moral distinctions derivd from a moral sense.
Thus the course of the argument leads us to conclude, that
since vice and
virtue are not discoverable merely by reason, or the comparison of ideas, it must be
by means of some impression or sentiment they occasion, that we are able to mark
the difference betwixt them. Our decisions concerning moral rectitude and depravity
are evidently perceptions; and as all perceptions are either impressions or ideas, the
exclusion of the one is a convincing argument for the other. Morality, therefore, is
more properly felt than judgd of; tho this feeling or sentiment is commonly so
soft
and gentle, that we are apt to confound it with an idea, according to our common
custom of taking all things for the same, which have any near resemblance to each
other.
The next question is, Of what nature are these impressions, and after
what
manner do they operate upon us? Here we cannot remain long in suspense, but must
pronounce the impression arising from virtue, to be agreeable, and that proceeding
from vice to be uneasy. Every moments experience must convince us of this. There
is no spectacle so fair and beautiful as a noble and generous action; nor any which
gives us more abhorrence than one that is cruel and treacherous. No enjoyment
equals the satisfaction we receive from the company of those we love and esteem; as
the greatest of all punishments is to be obligd to pass our lives with those we hate
or
contemn. A very play or romance may afford us instances of this pleasure, which
virtue conveys to us; and pain, which arises from vice.
Now since the distinguishing impressions, by which moral good or evil
is
known, are nothing but particular pains or pleasures; it follows, that in all enquiries
concerning these moral distinctions, it will be sufficient to shew the principles,
which make us feel a satisfaction or uneasiness from the survey of any character, in
order to satisfy us why the character is laudable or blameable. An action, or
sentiment, or character is virtuous or vicious; why? because its view causes a
pleasure or uneasiness of a particular kind. In giving a reason, therefore, for the
pleasure or uneasiness, we sufficiently explain the vice or virtue. To have the sense
of virtue, is nothing but to feel a satisfaction of a particular kind from the
contemplation of a character. The very feeling constitutes our praise or admiration.
We go no farther; nor do we enquire into the cause of the satisfaction. We do not
infer a character to be virtuous, because it pleases: But in feeling that it pleases after
such a particular manner, we in effect feel that it is virtuous. The case is the same as
[8]
in our judgments concerning all kinds of beauty, and tastes, and sensations. Our
approbation is implyd in the immediate pleasure they convey to us.
Thus we are still brought back to our first position, that virtue is
distinguished by the pleasure, and vice by the pain, that any action, sentiment or
character gives us by the mere view and contemplation. This decision is very
commodious; because it reduces us to this simple question, Why any action or
sentiment upon the general view or survey, gives a certain satisfaction or
uneasiness, in order to shew the origin of its moral rectitude or depravity, without
looking for any incomprehensible relations and qualities, which never did exist in
nature, nor even in our imagination, by any clear and distinct conception. I flatter
myself I have executed a great part of my present design by a state of the question,
which appears to me so free from ambiguity and obscurity.
. . . . .
PART III.
OF THE OTHER VIRTUES AND VICES.
SECTION I.
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 dependance 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 removd, 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 aversion, 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 considerd 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
aversion, 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 observd, 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 reflexion, is of course
virtuous; as every thing 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 every one, that produces uneasiness, excites humility or hatred: It follows,
[9]
that these two particulars are to be considerd 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, tis 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 considerd in morality.
This reflexion 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 enquiries 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 tis 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 examind and explaind.
We may begin with considering a-new the nature and force of sympathy.
The
minds of all men are similar in their feelings and operations, nor can any one 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 conveyd to the effects, and is actuated with a like emotion. Were I present at
any
of the more terrible operations of surgery, tis 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 patient and assistants, woud
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 passions: And consequently
these give rise to our sympathy.
. . . . .
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 thence 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 those qualities, which we naturally approve of,
[10]
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 attaind 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 thence we learn the force of that principle. And where that principle may take
place, and the quality approvd of is really beneficial to society, a true
philosopher
will never require any other principle to account for the strongest approbation and
esteem.
. . . . .