advance the happiness of others. This lays open a beautiful theory in the nature of man: a selfish action can only benefit myself; a benevolent action benefits myself as much as it benefits others. In a word, benevolence may not improperly be said to be the most refined selfishness; which, by the way, ought to silence certain shallow philosophers, who, ignorant of human nature, teach a disgustful doctrine-that to serve others, unless with a view to our own happiness, is weakness and folly; as if self-love only, and not benevolence, contributed to our happiness. With shallow thinkers, the selfish system naturally prevails in theory, I do not say in practice. During infancy, our desires centre mostly in ourselves: every one perceives intuitively the comfort of food and raiment, of a snug dwelling, and of every convenience. But that the doing good to others will make us happy, is not so evident; feeding the hungry, for example, or clothing the naked. This truth is seen but obscurely by the gross of mankind, if at all seen the superior pleasure that accompanies the exercise of benevolence, of friendship, and of every social principle, is not clearly understood till it be frequently felt. To perceive the social principle in its triumphant state, a man must forget himself, and turn his thoughts upon the character and conduct of his fellow-creatures: he will feel a secret charm in every passion that tends to the good of others, and a secret aversion against every unfeeling heart that is indifferent to the happiness and distress of others. In a word, it is but too common for men to in dulge selfishness in themselves; but all men abhor it in others. 169. Next in order come sensible beings that are in distress. A person in distress, being so far a disagreeable object, must raise in a spectator a painful passion; and, were man purely a selfish being, he would desire to be relieved from that pain by turning from the object. But the principle of benevolence gives an opposite direction to his desire; it makes him desire to afford relief, and, by relieving the person from distress, his passion is gratified. The painful passion thus directed, is termed sympathy; which, though painful, is yet in its nature attractive. And, with respect to its final cause, we can be at no loss: it not only tends to relieve a fellow-creature from distress, but in its gratification is greatly more pleasant than if it were repulsive. 170. We, in the last place, bring under consideration persons hateful by vice or wickedness. Imagine a wretch who has lately perpetrated some horrid crime; he is disagreeable to every spectator, and consequently raiseth in every spectator a painful passion. What is the natural gratification of that passion? I must here again observe that, supposing man to be entirely a selfish being, he would 168. Sensible beings considered as objects of passion.-The final cause (or design) of desire directed to agreeable persons.-The comparative benefit of selfish and benevolent actions.-Censure upon the doctrine of certain shallow philosophers.-How we are to learn the pleasure that accompanies benevolent actions. 169. Rational beings in distress; emotions excited.-Sympathy. be prompted by his nature to relieve himself from the pain by averting his eye and banishing the criminal from his thoughts. But man is not so constituted; he is composed of many principles, which, though seemingly contradictory, are perfectly concordant. His actions are influenced by the principle of benevolence, as well as by that of selfishness; and, in order to answer the foregoing question, I must introduce a third principle, no less remarkable in its influence than either of these mentioned: it is that principle, common to all, which prompts us to punish those who do wrong. An envious, a malicious, or a cruel action, being disagreeable, raiseth in the spectator the painful emotion of resentment, which frequently swells into a passion; and the natural gratification of the desire included in that passion is to punish the guilty person: I must chastise the wretch by indignation at least, and hatred, if not more severely. Here the final cause is self-evident. 171. An injury done to myself, touching me more than when done to others, raises my resentment to a higher degree. The desire, accordingly, included in this passion, is not satisfied with so slight a punishment as indignation or hatred: it is not fully gratified with retaliation; and the author must by my hand suffer mischief, as great at least as he has done to me. Neither can we be at any loss about the final cause of that higher degree of resentment: the whole vigor of the passion is required to secure individuals from the injustice and oppression of others. 172. A wicked or disgraceful action is disagreeable, not only to others, but even to the delinquent himself; and raises in both a painful emotion, including a desire of punishment. The painful emotion felt by the delinquent is distinguished by the name of remorse, which naturally excites him to punish himself. There cannot be imagined a better contrivance to deter us from vice; for remorse itself is a severe punishment. That passion, and the desire of self-punishment derived from it, are touched delicately by Terence (Heautontimorumenos, Act I. Sc. 1). Otway reaches the same sentiment: Monimia. Let mischiefs multiply! let every hour Oh let the sun to these unhappy eyes Ne'er shine again, but be eclipsed forever! May every thing I look on seem a prodigy, Forget I ever had humanity, And grow a curser of the works of nature!-Orphan, Act IV. 173. In the cases mentioned, benevolence alone, or desire of punishment alone, governs without a rival; and it was necessary to view of them by selfishness or by 170. Persons hateful by vice. Man influenced in benevolence.-A third principle active in such cases. 171. Emotion excited by an injury done to myself. 172. A wicked action disagreeable to the delinquent as well as to others. Emotion excited; its use.-Quotation from Otway's Orphan. handle these cases separately, in order to elucidate a subject which by writers is left in great obscurity. But neither of these principles operates always without rivalship: cases may be figured, and cases actually exist, where the same person is an object both of sympathy and of punishment. Thus the sight of a profligate in the venereal disease, overrun with blotches and sores, puts both principles in motion: while his distress fixes my attention, sympathy prevails; but as soon as I think of his profligacy, hatred prevails, accompanied sometimes with a desire to punish. This, in general, is the case of distress occasioned by immoral actions that are not highly criminal; and if the distress and the immoral action make impressions equal or nearly so, sympathy and hatred, counterbalancing each other, will not suffer me either to afford relief or to inflict punishment. What then will be the result? The principle of self-love solves the question: abhorring an object so loathsome, I naturally avert my eye, and walk off as fast as I can, in order to be relieved from the pain. 174. No action, right or wrong, is indifferent even to a mere spectator: if right, it inspires esteem; disgust, if wrong. But it is remarkable, that these emotions seldom are accompanied with desire the abilities of man are limited, and he finds sufficient employment in relieving the distressed, in requiting his benefactors, and in punishing those who wrong him, without moving out of his sphere for the benefit or chastisement of those with whom he has no connection. If the good qualities of others raise my esteem, the same qualities in myself must produce a similar effect in a superior degree, upon account of the natural partiality every man hath for himself; and this increases self-love. If these qualities be of a high rank, they produce a conviction of superiority, which excites me to assume some sort of government over others. Mean qualities, on the other hand, produce in me a conviction of inferiority, which makes me submit to others. These convictions, distributed among individuals, by measure and proportion, may justly be esteemed the solid basis of government; because upon them depend the natural submission of the many to the few, without which even the mildest government would be in a violent state, and have a constant tendency to dissolution. 175. No other branch of the human constitution shows more visibly our destination for society, nor tends more to our improvement, than appetite for fame or esteem: for as the whole conveniences of life are derived from mutual aid and support in society, it ought to be a capital aim to secure these conveni 173. Cases where benevolence and desire of punishment alternately operate. When they counterbalance each other, what is the result? 174. No action, right or wrong is indifferent.-Emotions raised by a view of good qualities in others; in myself. In view of mean qualities in myself.-The basis of gov ernment. ences, by gaining the esteem and affection of others. Reason, indeed, dictates that lesson: but reason alone is not sufficient in a matter of such importance; and the appetite mentioned is a motive more powerful than reason, to be active in gaining esteem and affection. That appetite, at the same time, is finely adjusted to the moral branch of our constitution, by promoting all the moral virtues; for what means are there to attract love and esteem so effectual as a virtuous course of life?—if a man be just and beneficent, if he be temperate, modest, and prudent, he will infallibly gain the esteem and love of all who know him.* 176. Communication of passion to related objects, is an illustrious instance of the care of Providence to extend social connections as far as the limited nature of man can admit. That communication is so far hurtful, as to spread the malevolent passions beyond their natural bounds: but let it be remarked, that this unhappy effect regards savages only, who give way to malevolent passions; for under the discipline of society, these passions being subdued, are in a good measure eradicated; and in their place succeed the kindly affections, which, meeting with all encouragement, take possession of the mind, and govern all our actions. In that condition, the progress of passion along related objects, by spreading the kindly affections through a multitude of individuals, hath a glorious effect. 177. Nothing can be more entertaining to a rational mind, than the economy of the human passions, of which I have attempted to give some faint notion. It must, however, be acknowledged, that our passions, when they happen to swell beyond proper limits, take on a less regular appearance: reason may proclaim our duty, but the will, influenced by passion, makes gratification always welcome. Hence the power of passion, which, when in excess, cannot be resisted but by the utmost fortitude of mind: it is bent upon gratification; and where proper objects are wanting, it clings to any object at hand without distinction. Thus joy inspired by a fortunate event, is diffused upon every person around by acts of benevolence; and resentment for an atrocious injury done by one out of reach, seizes the first object that occurs to vent itself upon. Those who believe in prophecies, even wish the accomplishment; and a weak mind is disposed voluntarily to fulfil a prophecy, in order to gratify its wish. Shakspeare, whom no particle of human nature hath [The author presents here rather a low standard of moral virtue. The motive assigned may have a good effect in securing an external morality; but if moral virtues have no higher origin than a regard to human applause, they are, in the view of the Divine Law, only brilliant sins; for that requires supreme regard and love to God, as the basis of all true virtue.] 175. Tendency and uses of an appetite for fame or esteem.-Criticism on the author's views. 176. Communication of passion to related objects: in part hurtful; in part beneficial. escaped, however remote from common observation, describes that weakness: King Henry. Doth any name particular belong Warwick. Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord. King Henry. Laud be to God! e'en there my life must end. Second Part, Henry IV. Act IV. Sc. last. CHAPTER III. BEAUTY. 178. HAVING discoursed in general of emotions and passions, I proceed to a more narrow inspection of such of them as serve to unfold the principles of the fine arts. It is the province of a writer upon ethics, to give a full enumeration of all the passions; and of each separately to assign the nature, the cause, the gratification, and the effects. But a treatise of ethics is not my province: I carry my view no farther than to the elements of criticism, in order to show, that the fine arts are a subject of reasoning as well as of taste. Instead of a painful and tedious examination of the several passions and emotions, I purpose to confine my inquiries to such attributes, relations, and circumstances, as in the fine arts are chiefly employed to raise agreeable emotions. Attributes of single objects, as the most simple, shall take the lead; to be followed with particulars, which, depending on relations, are not found in single objects. I begin with Beauty, the most noted of all the qualities. that belong to single objects. 179. The term beauty, in its native signification, is appropriated to objects of sight: objects of the other senses may be agreeable, such as the sounds of musical instruments; the smoothness and softness of some surfaces; but the agreeableness denominated beauty belongs to objects of sight. Of all the objects of external sense, an object of sight is the most complex in the very simplest, color is perceived, figure and length, breadth and thickness. A tree is composed of a trunk, branches, and leaves; it has color, figure, size, and sometimes motion: by means of each of these particulars, separately considered, it appears 177. Power of passion when expressive; joy; resentment.-The wish to accomplish a prophecy illustrated from Shakspeare. 178. What the ethical writer has to say of the passions.-To what does Lord Kames propose to confine his inquiries? |