SECT. XII 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, viz, 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 behaviour of the fair sex. I believe I may spare myself the
trouble of insisting on so obvious a subject, and may proceed, without
farther 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 chearfully all the fatigues and expences, 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, an 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. Men are induced to labour 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 counter-balance so strong a temptation
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 surmizes, 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 over-look remote motives in favour 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 licences, 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 chimerical 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 unsurmountable 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 ductile 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 batchelors, however debauched, cannot chuse 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 child-bearing 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 nor place. The exception is there 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 extremest old-age and infirmity.
Courage, which is the point of honour 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 do 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.
PART III OF THE OTHER VIRTUES AND VICES
SECT. 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 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 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 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 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 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 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, 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, it is 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 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 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 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 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 patient 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 atendency 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 principal 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 the beauty, which we find in
every thing 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.
Handsome and beautiful, on most occasions, is nor an absolute but a
relative quality, and pleases us by nothing but its tendency to produce
an end that is agreeable.
[Footnote 25 Decentior equus cujus astricta sunt ilia; sed
idem velocior. Pulcher aspectu sit athieta, cujus lacertos
exercitatio expressit; idem certamini paratior.
Nunquam vero
species ab utilitate dividitur. Sed hoc quidem discernere,
modici judicii est. Quinct. lib. 8. (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
judgement to wake this distinction.)]
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 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
source 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
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, 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 thence 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.
That 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 skilful politicians endeavoured to restrain
the turbulent passions of men, and make them operate to the public
good, by the notions of honour and shame. This system, however, is nor
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 coued never be excited by politicians; nor would the
words laudable and praise-worthy, blameable and odious be any more
intelligible, than if they were a language perfectly known 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 a 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 succour 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 them. Judges take from a poor
man to give to a rich; they bestow on the dissolute the labour 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 farther 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.