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CHAPTER II: Concerning the Supreme Good. - Francis Hutcheson, Philosophiae moralis institutio compendiaria with a Short Introduction to Moral Philosophy [1747]

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Philosophiae moralis institutio compendiaria with a Short Introduction to Moral Philosophy, edited and with an Introduction by Luigi Turco (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2007).

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Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.


CHAPTER II

Concerning the Supreme Good.

I. Having in the former chapter premised a pretty full description of human Nature and its several powers, we proceed to inquire into <the ends of Goods and Evils, or> the Supreme Good or Evil{, and wherein the chief Happiness of mankind consists}, with the proper plan of life in order to obtain it.

We shall lightly pass over certain celebrated questions about the mutual powers of the understanding and will over each other, which properly belong to Pneumaticks {or Metaphysicks}. We only suggest in passing, 1. That what is wholly unknown cannot be the object of desire, and yet there are certain natural propensities {or instincts in each species} toward certain objects or actions, as soon as it obtains any notion of them, and aversions to their contraries. These the schoolmen call the first simple motions of Will. When these are so strong as to call off the mind from any other objects it may have been employed about, and surmount its sloth, {or any dispositions to rest,} it raises also a desire of searching out the proper means <and reasons> of obtaining the objects desired, and of discovering which of them are most eligible: and when this point is settled, then, according to the Stoicks, we are determined to execute these means, or there arises the effectual purpose of action [that steddy purpose of action that Schoolmen call effectual volition].1 Many [Some] of the Peripateticks deny that the Will is certainly determined to follow even the last practicaljudgments, tho’ it generally does so. They alledge that it has an inherent power, notwithstanding any judgments or desires about the proper ends or means, of determining it self to act or abstain; nay some add, that it can determine it self to either of the contraries, to pursue good, or to pursue evil even under that notion. Let Metaphysicians determine these points. This in general seems true that we cannot properly ascribe any active <ruling> power to the understanding, about our conduct in life. ’Tis its business only to discover Truth; whereas willing, ordering, commanding, purposing, are acts of Will.2

The will again seems to have no other power over the understanding than this, that a man may as he wills turn his understanding to consider all the evidence on either side, and where the highest evidence does not occur, he can suspend any {peremptory} assent, and resolve upon a further hearing of the cause. But wherever full, certain evidence appears, he cannot at pleasure withhold his assent, or assent to the other side. Nay where on one side he sees superior probabilities [better reasons], he cannot avoid judging that side to be more probable.

II. We also pass over some speculative questions about the general notions of Good, and Final Causes or Ends, and their divisions; as they are easy and belong to other sciences. These maxims seem evident. 1. The objects of desire are pursued either ultimately for themselves, or as means to something further, or on both accounts. 2. Whatever is ultimately desirable is either recommended by some immediate sense or some natural instinct or impulse, <and approbation> prior to all reasoning. ’Tis the business of reason to find out the means of obtaining what we desire: or if various objects of desire interfere, to inquire which of them is of most importance to happiness, and what the best means of obtaining such objects. 3. Things are recommended to our pursuit, under one or other of these three forms or notions, either as pleasant, profitable, or honourable. Under the notion of pleasure are such things pursued in which we have only in view some grateful sensation to ourselves; and yet moral writers seldom include under this branch of pleasant, either the moral virtues, or the sciences and ingenious arts. These things are called profitable which are desired as means of somewhat further. The honourable are the several virtues {either intellectual or moral,} which recommend themselves by their own peculiar dignity, {very different from the lower sorts of pleasures}. 4. The importance or moment of any good toward our felicity depends on its dignity and duration. There’s a great difference among the several sorts of good in point of dignity. When we compare together the goods corresponding to senses of the same order, such as those relating to the external senses [those pleasure of body that we have in common with beasts], the dignity is just the intenseness of the pleasure in the sensation. But the objects of the superior senses have their own peculiar excellence, {not to be compared with the lower pleasures,} appearing of it self, and raising the desires of such as know them; so that we approve and praise, and count the persons happy, and wise in their conduct, who despise all bodily pleasures in comparison with them. ’Tis thus we plainly judge of the man who prefers the joys <of refined arts,> of knowledge, and of virtue and virtuous action to all others, and devotes himself entirely to them{, in opposition to even the highest sensual enjoyments}.3

To a rational being therefor who is indued with forethought these must be the characters of his supreme Good: “It must be something ultimately desirable to which most other things are referable <while it is not a means to anything else>; which has the highest dignity, which is stable {or durable}, and sufficient to satisfy or make happy.”

III. In our enquiries after happiness, which must either consist in the full enjoyment of all sorts of good, or at least in that of the principal sorts, we must observe, that ’tis impossible for one to ensure to himself the full enjoyment of all sorts of pleasure, and an immunity from all evil. According to the uncertain fleeting nature of human affairs, all external enjoyments must be uncertain. The objects themselves are perishable; and our own tastes and relishes are changeable; our health of body on which many enjoyments depend is very unstable: external objects depend not on our power, but {as ’tis commonly said}, are the Gifts of Fortune, or more properly, depend upon the Divine Providence, which has ensured no man in the constant possession of them.

Need we also mention that there are many inconsistencies among the several enjoyments, so that one cannot vigorously pursue or enjoy them all: nay such is the dignity of the superior enjoyments, that they scorn such conjunction with the lower; their beauty and highest joy arises from our having despised and sacrificed to them the lower pleasures, and even resolutely exposed our selves to toils and distresses on their account.

Since then there’s no obtaining a full enjoyment of all sorts of good, or avoiding of all evil, we must carefully enquire which sorts of good are the most important to happiness, and what evils are the most grievous, and most eversive of tranquillity and happiness. We must therefor compare together the several goods which affect the various senses, and that both in respect to dignity and duration: and in like manner compare the several evils to discover which of them are most grievous and destructive.4

IV. We may here transiently notice, that tho’ we grant to Hieronymus of Rhodes, and some others of antiquity, that upon the mere removal of all pain there naturally ensues a state in it self grateful and pleasant: and that a stable sort of tranquillity and joy accompanies an intire immunity from uneasy sensations, so kind is the constitution of our nature, provided the mind is not disturbed by any keen desires or fears; so that their maxim is true, that wherever there’s freedom from all evil there must be the possession of some good: yet ’tis plain that beings endued with so many senses and active appetites and desires, cannot be made happy by mere indolence.5 This pleasure is but of a low kind, nor has it any dignity; much less can it have such force upon the soul as to be the spring of our actions and conduct in life. Happiness therefor must depend upon other sorts of goods suited to our perceptive powers.

In the first place ’tis plain that bodily pleasures have none of that dignity which is the object of praise. Were the sensations never so intense, yet they all are plainly mean, and many of them shameful: they are transient too and fleeting; nor does the remembrance of past enjoyments give any such pleasure, or yield any such matter of joy or glorying, which could allay any sorrows or distresses in life, or support us under them.

Nor can it be justly alledged, that the common sentiments of mankind seem to make these the highest of all, because we see the greater part of men much devoted to them alone. This is so far from truth, that there are few to be found, who, when the fervor of their passions is a little cooled, won’t own, that such pleasures are quite insufficient to happiness. The most worthless characters have some imperfect <and artificial> notions of virtues almost continually influencing them; some friendships, some kind offices towards such as either nature or acquaintance hath attached to them, and whom they rashly happen to esteem. Nor can any one deem himself happy in constant inactivity or sensual enjoyments: they must conjoin with them frequent actions and offices, which according to their notions are virtuous. But, how strong soever the lower appetites may be {in proportion to the nobler}, yet still that diviner faculty naturally destined to govern the rest, and from whose dictates we are chiefly to judge of the intention of God and nature, rather scorns and rejects sensual enjoyments, as below the dignity of the rational nature, and will not allow them to make a part of the true happiness.6

Need we further insist that sensual pleasures are almost continually recommended by some borrowed colours of a moral kind, of friendship, humanity, beneficence, or an elegant taste; otherways they would be despicable and shameful. Nay our {conscience or moral} sense <of what is right and honourable> seldom appears in opposition to them; since by the strange deceit of the passions, we generally persuade ourselves of their innocence.7 But on the other hand the virtues charm and make us happy by their own native beauty and dignity: nor are we to imagine that happiness is found only in mirth, gayety, lasciviousness or diversions, the amusements of weaker minds. There’s an higher happiness to the grave who are intent on serious business, from their own goodness, strength of mind, and steddiness.

There’s just cause too of appealing from the judgment of the voluptuous, who given up to sensuality, seldom experience the joys of a virtuous sort most becoming the rational nature, and never feel the pleasures of entire stable integrity and goodness. They are corrupt judges, having the nobler senses of the soul much stupified. But the external senses are never imagined to be any way impaired by the greatest dignity and steddiness of soul in all the moral virtues.8 The good man knows all the good in sensual pleasures, and despises it that he may adhere to virtue; finding upon full knowledge of both, that in virtue consists the supreme good.9 These honourable enjoyments are never blended with sensual pleasures, or recommended to us as the means of obtaining them; on the contrary, they are chiefly recommended by the labours, troubles and dangers incurred;

  • Midst losses, deaths, deriving force
  • And spirit from the hostile sword.

  • Hor.

Nay we have in this cause frequent testimonies from the voluptuous themselves. How few are such abandoned wretches as not to be much more affected with the beauty of some virtues, than with any bodily pleasures? Who won’t sometimes in serving a friend, or maintaining their own moral characters, or refuting certain calumnies, expose themselves to toils and danger, and forego pleasures?10 ] How few are devoted to mere solitary sensuality without any social friendly affections and joys? The few who are so, the world looks upon as monsters, and detests them. And then how transient and fleeting are these pleasures, since they depend entirely upon the continuance of the appetite? when the natural craving is sated, all pleasure is gone; and there must be long, tedious and disagreeable intervals, unless they are filled up with more honourable pursuits.

A little reflection too will shew us, what is of high importance in this matter, that in a temperate <and restrained> course of life, filled up with the most virtuous pursuits, till the natural appetites recurr, there is generally that enjoyment of the lower pleasures which is both safest and most delightful; since moderation and abstinence heightens the enjoyment. With such goodness is our nature constituted {by God}, so gentle is the reign of virtue, that it restrains not its subjects from that enjoyment of bodily pleasures, which upon a right estimate will be found the sweetest: altho’ this she demands, that we should still preserve so lively a sense of the superior pleasures, as may be sufficient to controul the lower appetites, when they make any opposition.11 But on the other hand under the empire of sensuality there’s no admittance for the virtues; all the nobler joys from a conscious goodness, a sense of virtue, and deserving well of others, must be banished; and generally along with them even the rational manly pleasures of the ingenious arts.

V. Let us next consider that pleasure which arises from the elegance and grandeur of life: this no doubt is of a far superior kind to brutal sensuality, and yet is neither very great nor durable. Such things can give small alleviation to any of the important evils of life, such as bodily diseases, or those of the mind, which are often more severe, our own <fears,> anxieties, sollicitudes, sorrows. While these matters of ornament, elegance or grandeur are new to us, they are pretty agreeable; but being a short while enured to them puts an end to their pleasure: we are soon cloyed; and if the taste continues, we fall a hunting after something new, with a strange caprice and inconstancy; exposing ourselves to innumerable chagrins and sollicitudes, to obtain what again we shall presently be cloyed with and nauseate.

Need we insist further that all these things require also some friendly society: their principal charm is in some notions of liberality, kindness, good-will, and sharing of pleasures with others: by these chiefly they are made joyful to us and matter of glorying. And then such things may be enjoyed by the very worst and most wretched of mankind as well as by the most worthy.

Let us subjoin to these the pleasures of the ingenious arts, and that most truly manly sort which we enjoy in knowledge and the sciences: these the sense of every one who has any tolerable genius or gentlemanly taste, must indeed prefer far above any bodily pleasures; and they are also far more durable and stable. Whenever therefor we have leisure from the honourable offices of life, what study or pains we employ about them is truly laudable, and the remembrance of it will be agreeable. This is the natural food of the rational nature, and a pleasure suited to it; this is the proper exercise and improvement of that diviner part: these pleasures are of a purer kind, and more honourable and joyful, and friendly too to the voluntary virtues. And yet we may easily see that they alone are not sufficient to happiness: they are not absolutely the highest; and are plainly in their own nature destined for something further, even for these honourable offices by which we may serve our friends or our country.12 And hence it is that all men must approve one who would throw aside even the most delightful studies about the most important subjects, when he were called to succour his friends or his country, or to perform any kind or friendly office.

Let us imagine with our selves a person possessed of every ornament and elegance of life, along with all the means of bodily pleasures, and this by some miraculous providence [by a magic wand]; and that he were employed in the noblest contemplations with uninterrupted leisure, and yet void of all social affection, neither loving any nor beloved, without any opportunities of friendly offices: or imagine him retaining the natural affections toward others, but that all his kinsmen, all the objects of his love are {calamitous and} miserable: Is there any man so divested of humanity as to wish for such a lot to himself, or think it desirable?13 must not every one look upon it as miserable and detestable? Imagine further, that the morose unkind affections also arise, envy, hatred, suspicion, fear; passions which generally fill up the vacancy of the kind affections in our hearts, even when we live in the greatest affluence: surely this state of life must be deemed most miserable, void of all true pleasure, and more to be dreaded than even a painful death. And yet on the other hand, friendly society in life, mutual love and confidence, and virtuous offices, can make a laborious toilsome life, even amidst distresses, desirable and glorious.

VI. Let us proceed to another source of happiness or misery, our sympathy or social feelings with others, by which we derive joys or sorrows from their prosperity or adversity. And this all must allow to be of great importance <for our happiness or misery>. For, in the name of all that’s sacred! who would not prefer beyond all comparison the liberty, virtue, and felicity of his children, his kinsmen and friends, his countrymen, not only to sensual pleasures, but to the noblest pleasures {of a selfish sort} in the arts and sciences? who would not rather forego them all than behold all such as are dear to him in a condition either miserable or shameful? While there’s any life or vigour in the natural affections of the social kind, scarce any thing can more affect our happiness or misery than the fortunes of others. What powerful relief under our own misfortunes arises from seeing the prosperity of such as are dear to us! and how is all our enjoyment of life destroyed and beat to pieces by seeing their misery!

This social sympathy we naturally approve: to be touched deeply with the misfortunes of others is honourable; nor can we wish to be divested of this sense even when it occasions to us severe <even if not shameful> distresses and sorrows: and the contrary temper, the hard insensible heart, tho’ free from such cares and sorrows, we naturally detest, and deem it miserable because it is odious and base.

The joys or sorrows of this class may also be very lasting, according as the prosperity or adversity of the persons we love continues. Nay we have deep sorrow in reflecting upon the distresses or deaths of friends for a long time after these events: this duration of these sensations adds exceedingly to their importance.

What happiness we derive from this source is plainly independent of us, and is determined by Providence. No man can insure it to himself any more than external pleasures. Nor is it of consequence to prevent sympathetick pain, to think that men are generally the guilty causes of their own miseries <although no external good fails them>. Nay this very thing is chiefly deplorable and most pityable, that men are made miserable by their own faults, placing their hopes of happiness in such mean perishing objects. All who deem themselves miserable are truly so, even altho’ a change in their own tempers would, in the same external circumstances, make them happy.

There’s plainly no other refuge from these evils, no other foundation for tranquillity or stable joy to a kind heart, but a constant regard to the Deity and his wisdom and goodness governing this world; with a stable persuasion that all is ordered in the wisest and best manner for the universal felicity; and that all that variety of evil we behold is yet no more or greater than what is requisite <by the perfect wisdom of God> for the prosperity and perfection of the universe, and may at last also frequently tend to the real good of these very persons whose misfortunes we bewail.

VII. The next source of happiness or misery naturally connected with the former, is that {conscience or} sense of what is right and honourable, which is also of great importance in life. This any one may perceive who can recollect any offices he has done for others with vigour, friendliness, an high sense of duty, or fortitude; and observes with what joy the remembrance must fill his soul. What are our sentiments of others? with what endearment, what ardent good-will do we embrace such as are engaged in such offices? and how happy do we deem them even amidst their toils and dangers; nay when they are voluntarily exposing themselves to certain death for their friends, their country, or for the propagation of true religion? The very resveries of men at leisure, when they are imagining to themselves, or those they love, a whole plan of life of the greatest dignity and happiness they can conceive, sufficiently shew that they can have no notion of an happy course of life without a continued course of steddy virtue, display’d amidst toils and dangers. These sentiments appear rooted in our hearts from our childhood. The whole frame of our nature shews that we are destined for action, and that in virtuous action alone we can find the highest happiness, in comparison with which all sensual pleasures appear despicable.

And then, with what joy, with what tranquillity and confidence must a good man be filled, who endeavouring to resemble the Deity as far as he can, is persuaded that he has the Deity for his propitious kind Ruler, Father, and munificent Rewarder; who, being assured that all events are governed and disposed of by his Providence, willingly embraces whatever befals him, firmly trusting that it is ordered with perfect wisdom, and shall tend to his good: one who knows and loves the Supreme-excellence, and is frequently employed in the contemplation and imitation of it.

Add to all this, that these joys are the most stable and durable which arise from a consciousness of our good dispositions, and of having acted according to them. The honourable toils and troubles are soon over, and are succeeded by joyful and glorious reflections. The {taste is not changeable or inconstant; the} practice of virtue is never cloying; nay it rather whets anew our appetite for further good offices of the same or a nobler kind. To this are joined these further pleasures, when we congratulate with those we have served effectually; when we justly expect the approbation and praises of mankind; when we have the joyful hopes of obtaining from God and men whatever is requisite for our safety and felicity. Nor need any one fear the want of opportunities for exercising his virtues in good offices, if he is heartily set upon them, according to the condition of life allotted him. The indigent or weak may not be capable of important services to others in external things. But such a one, having most ardent wishes for the prosperity of mankind, and resolved to profit them at least by his example of piety, and by such mean offices as are in his power, may with an humble confidence and joy approve this goodness of his heart, these honourable affections to God the most equitable judge, and to the wisest of mankind, and expect their favour, approbation and protection.

VIII. What naturally ensues upon this sense, is that of honour and infamy, which is a very keen and lively one. Praise and glory when they are founded upon virtue, make no small accession to happiness; but without this foundation they are of little consequence. That must be an unfair and trifling mind which can be delighted with praises it knows not to be due to it. True glory like a lively tree spreads its roots deep, and diffuses its branches: but false glory like the blossoms, must soon fall. No man can be assured that groundless honours can remain with him even for a day. Such is the power of truth, that it frequently prevails beyond all expectation, either in the unmasking of ostentatious hypocrites or in vindicating the injured character, and rescuing virtue from calumnies. And since the true object of praise is virtue alone; that natural strong passion for praise should excite every wise man to regulate his whole life according to the rules of virtue, and employ himself continually in some truly honourable offices.

IX. That we may not quite omit another source of enjoyment tho’ of a lower kind; that which consists in mirth and gaiety, amidst sports, diversions and jesting; we shall only briefly suggest, that unless the nobler powers be much stupified, and we cast aside all manly thought and reflection, indulging a base negligence about the most important concerns, we can no other way than by virtue and a careful regard to the duties of life, promise to ourselves either tranquillity or chearfulness. For when the soul is galled and ulcered either with remorse, or with the ill-natured envious passions opposite to virtue, or with fears and suspicions, {constantly attendants of vices,} there can be no undisturbed enjoyment of any satisfaction. In this matter the common similitude holds, “whatever is poured into a sour cask must soon grow acid.” ’Tis then alone we can be truly easy and cheerful, fit to relish all manly pleasantries and mirth, when we are possessed of a courteous, humane, sweet temper, with a good conscience, and maintaining a friendly social intercourse with good men. Whatever therefore is valuable in gayety and mirth, should also excite us to cultivate all kinds of virtue, and persuade us to activity in discharge of all the duties of life.

X. As to wealth and power; whatever good is in them, should naturally lead a wise man into the same virtuous course: since it is by obtaining the favour and good-will of others, and maintaining credit in society, that wealth and power are easiest obtained and preserved: nor can the greatest wealth or power secure its possessor against a general hatred or resentment. But as wealth and power are not desired for themselves, but for further purposes; from what we have shewn to be the noblest pleasures of life, and our highest advantage and happiness, it must appear, that they alone reap the true fruits, and have the safest and sweetest and most honourable enjoyment of wealth or power, who employ them in liberality and beneficence.

But since one of the first and strongest principles in all animals is the desire of self-preservation, we must offer a few thoughts on this head. ’Tis plain this desire like most others may be too strong: nor is mere living so much the object of it, as an happy life: and ’tis certain that in some circumstances life ceases to be desirable: as for instance, when we cannot preserve it without great baseness, ignominy and remorse; or must continue it under grievous bodily pain. The most friendly heart would wish for the death of his friend, when he cannot otherways escape these evils. Death is a certain event to all, and no man knows how soon it may happen. It must therefor often be wise conduct for for one’s own interest to expose his life to the greatest dangers when any sacred duty requires it, that he may not for the preservation of life lose all that makes it worth retaining. We ought therefor to fortify our minds against the terrors of death: for one who dreads an evil always impendent{, and that may surprize us every moment}, can retain no tranquillity. And this strength of mind is to be obtained by deep meditation from our youth, that after death, if it destroys the mind as well as the body, ’tis impossible there can be any evil, or any uneasy sensation. But if our souls perish not in death, which we justly conclude both from the goodness of God and the divine powers of the soul it self; then all good men may hope for a joyful state, and that this <wretched14 and> fading mortal life shall be succeeded by a new life of a nobler kind, which alone deserves that name.

The whole former reasonings unite in this conclusion, that happiness consists in the virtues of the soul, and in the continued exercise of them in good offices: to the completion of which however some moderate advantages with respect to the body and fortune are requisite, at least that we enjoy health, and such a competence of external things as may satisfy the painful cravings of nature. From the possession of virtue alone life is to be counted happy: but to make it compleatly so there must be a moderate degree of external prosperity.

XI. The same conclusion is further confirmed by comparing the several evils contrary to the several sorts of good already compared. And here in the first place, ’tis plain that the strength and force of bodily pain is greater in proportion than that of bodily pleasures; and this wisely ordered, that we may be the more strongly excited to our own preservation: and yet they are not to be looked upon as the greatest of evils. Men are often led into this mistake by comparing some smaller kinds of moral turpitude, even when they are excused in some measure or alleviated by the greatness of the temptation [by the fear of some incumbent danger], with the highest bodily tortures. But some crimes are so detestable, and must occasion such self-abhorrence, and torturing remorse, and some sorrows and distresses occasioned by the misery of persons very dear to us are so deep, as to occasion misery superior to any bodily torments.

And then as to duration, the pain of the body, as well as its pleasures, can seldom be very durable. Such pain as is lasting must generally be of a lighter sort, or admit of frequent intervals of ease. The severer kinds must generally soon end in death: and the remembrance of past pain when we dread no returns of the like, has nothing uneasy in it, nay is sometimes sweet, and matter of glorying.15

The more elegant pleasures of the arts, from beauty, harmony, and ingenious imitation, and all these things which relate to the ornament or grandeur of life, have no proper pain opposite to them. These more sublime senses are the avenues of pleasure and not of pain. Where indeed men have indulged strong desires of such gratifications, or affect glory and eminence by them, it may be very uneasy to be disappointed, and we may regret much the want of them. But an absolute want of them is not a natural necessary cause of any misery. Nay we see that the greater part of men are abundantly easy without them, and therefor have no solicitude to procure them.

But ’tis of the highest use to observe, that virtue of it self has no natural tendency to expose us to any of these external losses or pains: nay it rather prevents or removes them. But if it should be our fortune to incurr such losses or pain, from which surely the vitious are no more secured than the virtuous; or if sometimes on account of virtue we should be exposed to such evils, which is sometimes the case, (tho’ men are much more frequently involved by their vices in such evils, and that in a more shameful base way) Virtue can teach us to bear such evils with resolution, or to conquer them; or will afford us a variety of strong consolations under them. Just reflection will shew us that such events are the proper matter of exercise for the most glorious virtues, the course in which they must run, and train themselves, acquiring daily new force: that it is by bearing them with patience that our resignation to God, our submission, and magnanimity must be display’d, strengthened, and at last gloriously rewarded.

The miseries of the sympathetick kind from the distresses of others are often more severe, nor can they be allayed by any sensual pleasures or any external objects. Such distresses are also very lasting: since all remembrance or reflection upon any grievous misfortune or infamy of any person dear to us must always be matter of great uneasiness. There is scarce any consolation under such distress except what must be derived from resignation and trust in the Deity; by which alone it is that good men can support their spirits in all events.16

But still the most grievous of all evils is the moral turpitude of a depraved heart conscious of its own baseness. This makes a man odious to himself; and makes his own temper, what’s most essential and intimate to him, appear base and shameful, nay ignominious and detestable. This evil too is of the most lasting nature; since the remembrance of our past crimes or impieties must ever be grievous and shameful. Nor can we shake off this uneasy tormenting feeling unless by an entire alteration of temper, and reparation of any injuries we have done; nor will this it self do it effectually. It’s common attendants too are solicitudes, fears, anxieties; and, as such persons have deserved ill of God and mankind, they must live in a perpetual dread that they shall be repaid according to their demerits.

Along with these inward causes of misery, comes also infamy; which when justly deserved gives severe and lasting torment, excludes all hopes of true friendship or favour with others, and of obtaining their faithful assistances for our advantage.

From all this we see that it was with the justest reason the old Academy and the Peripateticks placed happiness in “a constant activity according to the highest virtue in a prosperous course of life.” This the schoolmen call the supreme formal good. The same therefor is the summary notion of happiness and of virtue: to wit, “that we should love and reverence the Deity with all our soul, and have a stedfast goodwill toward mankind, and carefully improve all our powers of body and mind by which we can promote the common interest of all”; which is the life according to nature.

XII. But we ought always to keep this in our thoughts, that we entirely depend on God; that all the goods either of mind or body, all our virtues, have been derived from him, and must be preserved or increased by his gracious Providence: and since every good temper must always extend its views abroad, studiously pursuing the happiness of others, which also entirely depends on the will of God, and cannot be ensured by human power: there can be no other stable foundation of tranquillity and joy than a constant trust in the goodness, wisdom and power of God, by which we commit to him ourselves, our friends, and the whole universe, persuaded that he will order all things well. The schoolmen therefor justly call God the supreme object of happiness, or the supreme objective good,17 from the knowledge and love of whom, with the hopes of being favoured by him, our supreme happiness must arise.

[1. ]See Synopsis 2.2.2, pp. 62–63.

[2. ]Here and in section II, second maxim, below, Hutcheson emphasizes that reason or understanding does not have the power to determine us to action; this is aimed at his rationalist adversaries. Compare Essay on Passions 2.2, pp. 30–31n., and Illustrations, I, pp. 219–20.

[3. ]See System 1.7.[1], vol. I, p. 117.

[4. ]There is a chapter on the supreme good or happiness in Hutcheson’s Inquiry on Virtue (chap. VI), as well as in Essay on Passions (chap. V), and in his System (chap. VII). Whereas the present chapter of the Institutio and chap. VII of the System are similar, with parallel consideration of the order of the pleasures, the details of each section are rather different.

[5. ]Hieronymus of Rhodes (III century bc) is often cited in Cicero’s De finibus (e.g., II.19.7).

[6. ]See System 1.7.4, vol. I, p. 126.

[7. ]See System 1.7.4, vol. I, p. 125.

[8. ]See System 1.7.2, vol. I, p. 121.

[9. ]See Shaftesbury, An Inquiry concerning Virtue or Merit, II.II.I; Characteristicks, pp. 202 and 211.

[10. ]See Essay on Passions 5.2, p. 131.

[11. ]See System 1.7.4, vol. I, p. 127.

[12. ]Literally: “and every skill in arts or sciences naturally serves the interests of something more important and excellent arising from virtue, honourable offices and profiting our friends or mankind.”

[13. ]See Essay on Passions 5.4, pp. 138–39.

[14. ]Hume observes rightly in his letter to Hutcheson of Jan. 10, 1743, “I fancy you employ the Epithet aerumnosam more from Custom than your settled Opinion” (Letters, I, p. 47).

[15. ]See Essay on Passions 5.11, p. 163.

[16. ]See System 1.7.15, vol. I, p. 145.

[17. ]On the distinction between formal and objective good or end, see Synopsis, 2.2.2, p. 63.