EconlibThe LibraryOther Sites |
Front Page Titles (by Subject) CHAPTER VI: Concerning our Duties toward Ourselves, and the Improvement of the Mind. - Philosophiae moralis institutio compendiaria with a Short Introduction to Moral Philosophy
Return to Title Page for Philosophiae moralis institutio compendiaria with a Short Introduction to Moral PhilosophyThe Online Library of LibertyA project of Liberty Fund, Inc.Search this Title:Also in the Library:
CHAPTER VI: Concerning our Duties toward Ourselves, and the Improvement of the Mind. - Francis Hutcheson, Philosophiae moralis institutio compendiaria with a Short Introduction to Moral Philosophy [1747]Edition used:Philosophiae moralis institutio compendiaria with a Short Introduction to Moral Philosophy, edited and with an Introduction by Luigi Turco (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2007).
About Liberty Fund:Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals. Copyright information:The copyright to this edition, in both print and electronic forms, is held by Liberty Fund, Inc. Fair use statement:This material is put online to further the educational goals of Liberty Fund, Inc. Unless otherwise stated in the Copyright Information section above, this material may be used freely for educational and academic purposes. It may not be used in any way for profit.
CHAPTER VIConcerning our Duties toward Ourselves, and the Improvement of the Mind.I. As {powerful} motives of private interest naturally excite us to our several Duties toward ourselves; to give them something venerable and laudable they must be {ultimately} referred either to the service of God, or some advantages to be procured to others. With this reference they become highly virtuous and honourable.1 The culture of our minds principally consists in forming just opinions about our duty; and in procuring a large store of valuable knowledge about the most important subjects: as indeed all branches of knowledge have some use, and contribute in some measure to happiness, either by the immediate pleasure, or by discovering more fully to us the divine perfections, or enabling us better to know and discharge our Duty; since the affections of the will naturally follow the judgments formed by the understanding. All therefor who have abilities and proper opportunities, ought to apply themselves to improve their minds with an extensive knowledge {of nature} in the sciences; and ’tis the duty of all to acquire by diligent meditation and observation that common prudence which should constantly govern our lives. We ought therefor to make just estimates of all things which naturally raise our desires, consider thoroughly their importance to happiness, and find out wherein consists our supreme good; the discovery of which must also discover the true plan of life. <As we observed before> We should therefor deeply impress this on our minds, that our chief good is placed in devout affections toward God, and good-will and beneficence toward mankind. The divine nature therefor and its boundless exellencies should be matter of our most careful inquiry; especially those attributes which excite our pious veneration, love, and trust in him. And we are to extirpate all imaginations or suspicions, of any purposes in God which are inconsistent with the perfection of wisdom, goodness, and love to his creatures. We ought also carefully to study our own nature and constitution; what sort of beings God requires we should be; what character* either more general, or more peculiar to each one, God requires he should support and act up to in life: that thus we may follow God and nature as the sure guide to happiness. We ought therefor to enter deeply into human nature; observing both in ourselves and others the true principles of action, the true tempers and designs: least we rashly form worse notions of our fellows than just reason would suggest. By a thorough view of these things, we should often prevent or suppress many of the harsher and ill-natured passions, anger, hatred, and envy; and cherish humanity, compassion, lenity, forgiveness and clemency.2 II. This should also continually be in our thoughts, that all things fall out according to the divine counsel, either directly ordering them, or at least, permitting them with the most perfect purity, {for some excellent purposes}: and that consequently what appears to us harsh, injurious, or ignominious, may be designed to afford occasion for exercising and strengthening the most divine virtues of the Good; and in them consists their chief felicity. The soul should be inured to a generous contempt of other things; and this we may acquire by looking thoroughly into them: by observing how mean, sordid, fading, and transitory are all bodily pleasures, all the objects that afford them, and our very bodies themselves! by observing how small these joys are and how little necessary, which arise from the external elegance and grandeur of life; and how uncertain they are; what cares they cost in acquiring and preserving; and how soon they cloy and give disgust! {as to speculative knowledge;} how uncertain and imperfect are many sciences, leading the embarassed mind into new obscurities and difficulties and anxious darkness; and discovering nothing more clearly than the blindness {and darkness}, or the small penetration of our understanding <into almost everything>. Again how poor an affair is glory {and applause}! which is ordinarily conferred by the ignorant, who cannot judge of real excellence; our enjoyment of which is confined within the short space of this life; which can be diffused through but a small part of this earth; and which must soon be swallowed up in eternal oblivion along with all the remembrance either of these who applaud or of the persons applauded. This [thought too of] [recollection and meditation on] the shortness of life, will equally enable the soul to bear or despise <hardness and> adversity; taking this also along, that the soul who bears it well, will obtain new and enlarged strength; and like a lively fire, which turns every thing cast upon it into its own nature, and breaks forth superiour with stronger heat, so may the good man make adverse events matter of new honour and of nobler virtues. To sum up all briefly, all things related to this mortal state are fleeting, unstable, corruptible; which must speedily perish, and be presently swallowed up in that boundless ocean of eternity. For what can be called lasting in human life? Days, months, and years are continually passing away; all must die, nor is any sure that death shall not surprise him this very day: and when that last hour overtakes him, all that’s past is lost for ever; nor can there remain to him any enjoyment, except of what he has acted virtuously; which may yield some joyful hope of an happy immortality. This hope alone can be the foundation of true fortitude[; this prospect alone can fully satisfy the mind as to] [and exalt] the justice and benignity of the divine administration. But as in other arts, the mere knowledge of the precepts is of little consequence, nor can any thing laudable be obtained without practice and exercise; so in moral philosophy, which is the art of living well, the importance of the matter requires habit and continual exercise. Let our <Mind and> Reason therefor, and the other divine parts [powers] in our constitution, assume to themselves their just right of commanding the inferiour faculties [desires], and enure them to a constant subjection. And this in our present degenerate state must require almost continual <meditation,> attention and internal discipline; to the success of which it will contribute much that we be frequently employed in the offices of Piety {and Devotion} toward God, in adoration {of his perfections}, prayers, confession of sin, and pious {desires, and} vows of obedience. III. To apprehend more fully the nature of virtue and vice, and to adorn the soul with every moral excellency, it may be of use to run over the several species of virtue, with their characteristicks, and established names; and observe the several opposite vices, whether in the excess or defect of some natural desire <whereas virtue preserves a middle degree between them>.3 The explication of the several Passions <or perturbations> belongs to [another branch of Philosophy] [pneumaticks]. To count them all over, and mark their several degrees whether laudable or censurable, with their several signs or characters, would require a very long discourse, with great variety of matter: but what’s of most importance to lead us to virtue, is the forming just estimates of all {human affairs, all} the objects of the natural desires; and by frequent meditation deeply infixing in our hearts just impressions of their values [them], and habituating the superior parts of the soul to a constant command over the inferior. This however must be remembered concerning our natural desires and passions, that none of them can be pronounced absolutely evil in kind: none of them which may not sometimes be of great use in life, either to the person in whom they reside, or to others of mankind: in <preserving and> promoting either their Advantage, pleasure, or {even their} virtue. Superior orders of intelligence who have the superior powers more vigorous, may perhaps stand in no need of such violent motions or instigations; but to mankind they seem often necessary. And there is a moderate degree of each of them which is often advantageous, and often laudable. Such affections as don’t come up to this moderate degree are not sufficient for the purposes either of the individual, or those of society; and such as are too luxuriant and vehement, whether in pursuit of good or repelling of evil, and pass over the proper bounds, become uneasy and dishonourable to the person in whom they are, and are hurtful or pernicious to Society.4 The moderate degrees of several passions we justly deem not only innocent, but exceedingly subservient to virtue, as its guards or ministers; nay as the springs of many honourable actions, and as real virtues. By means of these better passions whether in pursuit of good or warding off of evil, we enjoy a more lively sense of life, the force of the soul is enlarged, and its activity invigorated: whence Plato calls these passions the wings or chariot-horses of the soul.5 Nature has given us the clearest indications of what she requires in this matter. For while these passions are kept moderate under just government, and directed by reason, the whole deportment is graceful and lovely. But when we are hurried away by any furious unbridled passion, we are utterly incapable of exercising our reason, or finding out what is wise and becoming us; we quite miss the very aim of the passion it self, and our whole deportment is disagreeable and deformed. Observe the very countenances of persons enraged, or of such as are transported with any ardent enflamed desire, or distracted with terror, or fluttering with joy. Their whole air [countenance and voices], the whole state and motion of the body becomes {deformed and} unnatural. We therefor give the honourable titles of virtues to these moderate passions, equally confined from the two extremes; and call the extremes vices. But we have not appropriated names for the moderate and just degrees of several passions; and hence some have rashly imagined, that some of our natural passions are wholly and absolutely evil. And yet ’tis plain that there are also certain moderate degrees of these passions both innocent and necessary. To illustrate all this by examples. A moderate desire of self-preservation is both necessary and easy. Where this is awanting, men shew a desperate audacious disposition without any caution. This temper is generally restless, turbulent, and destructive both to the person himself and to the society he lives in. Where this care of self-preservation is excessive, it appears in Timidity and cowardice; dispositions quite useless to the publick, and tormenting to the person, exposing him to all injuries and affronts <and dishonour>. A moderate relish for sensual pleasures is useful, nay necessary <and easy>. An entire insensibility would deprive one of a great deal of innocent pleasure; but seldom meet we with any thing wrong on this side. Where the taste is too high, which we call luxury or intemperance, it generally excludes all the more manly enjoyments, neither consulting reputation nor honour; nor even health or fortune, or the preservation of life. This turn of mind too must frequently expose a man to continual chagrin and uneasiness. About our estates or worldly goods two virtues are employed, frugality, which consists in a wise management of them family estates {for honourable purposes}, and liberality, which excites us to acts of kindness to others. The former is absolutely necessary to the exercise of the later: both are pleasant, advantageous, and honourable: the former more peculiarly subservient to our advantage, and the latter to our honour. The excess of frugality and defect of liberality is avarice, which is among the most deformed and most uneasy vices, pursuing stores quite unnecessary, and which it never intends to use; stores that must be obtained with much toil and uneasiness, and need rather more <trouble and anxiety> to preserve them. The defect of frugality and excess of liberality is prodigality, destructive to our fortunes, little subservient to the pleasure or safety of life, or even to fame, which it seems chiefly to have in view. The highest pitch of liberality is called magnificence, where great expences are wisely employed for some honourable purposes. The defect of this is seen in an affectation or shew of magnificence with an unwilling narrow heart. The excess is sometimes seen in the inelegant boundless profusion of persons who have no just notion of decency and elegance. The highest pitch of fortitude is in like manner called magnanimity; or an elevation and firmness of soul, which no circumstances of fortune can move, aiming solely at moral excellence in all its conduct. The extreme in excess often appears in a desperate audacious ambition, stopping at no dangers<, and arrogance>. Such a temper must be dangerous and uneasy to the possessor, and inconsistent with his safety, as well as that of others; as also destructive of the liberty and dignity of all around. The other extreme is pusillanimity or cowardice, rendering a man useless and miserable. The like holds as to the desire of power and promotion in the world: a moderate degree is useful and sits easy on a good man: when it grows excessive, ’tis both uneasy and restless, and very vitious, and dangerous to it self and all around. Where it is too faint and weak even when just occasions offer, men abandon the proper station or opportunities of virtue and honour. So also a moderate desire of fame is manifestly of great use, if we have yet higher desires of virtue. The excess of this desire is restless and uneasy, and often defiles and debases the true beauty of virtuous actions. Where men want this desire, or have it very languid, they want a very potent incitement to all virtuous offices. Nor can all anger or resentment be condemned, altho’ there’s little lovely in any degree of it. An entire insensibility of all injuries, of which there are but few instances, would be a very inconvenient disposition; exposing a man to the contumelies and petulance of others; nor well consistent with his own character, or the safety of such as he is bound to protect. Excessive anger on the other hand is a most tormenting passion, and often destructive to the person in whom it is found; nor is there any passion more dangerous to society. There’s a certain just indignation, becoming a good man, when the worthless are promoted to power or dignity. One void of such sentiments would be too little solicitous about the interests either of his friends or his country. But where this passion is excessive, or rises without just cause (which we call envy, the common spring of inveterate malice) it is the most destructive poison [rust] to the soul, tormenting to the breast where it resides, and extremely vitious, leading into the most horrid crimes. This is to be observed of all the unkind passions which partake of anger, that they should be indulged no further than is plainly necessary for our own preservation or that of our friends [and country] [or concern for common interest]. If we could without these passions ensure their safety, there would be nothing desireable or laudable in them: nay on the other hand, nothing is more lovely <or honourable> than lenity, mercy, placability and clemency. Among the virtues of social conversation, the first and chief is veracity and candour, of which we shall treat more fully in* another place. The opposite vices are all as it were defects: lyes, deceit, fraud, crafty hypocrisy and dissimulation. In the same class are some other virtues tending to give pleasure to and oblige all we converse with; such as courtesy, good-manners, complaisance, sweetness, pleasantry, wit: all which are laudable and graceful, and promote friendliness and good-will in society. There are opposite vices on both hands: on the one, a servile fawning, and flattery, and scurrility; having no other view than insinuating by any sort of pleasure into the favour of those it makes court to, and stooping into the most ungentlemanly or obscene jests: on the other, a troublesome, unmannerly rusticity and roughness, shewing no respect or deference to company, but pleasing it self with a shew of liberty and boldness. ’Tis needless to dwell upon the inconveniences arising from these vices, as they are always mean and indecent, and often lead to the greatest mischiefs. The true preservative against both extremes is first to take care to attain a truly virtuous temper; and then, to maintain both a real good-will and a respect for those with whom we live in society. As to modesty {and bashfulness}, ’tis worth our notice that this passion plainly arises from a lively sense and solicitude about what is decent [right] and honourable, and hence gives in our youth hopeful prognosticks of a fine genius, well formed by nature for every thing virtuous. But where it is excessive in maturer years it often retards or withholds men from acting an honourable part: where this sense is very weak or wholly awanting, men want a powerful guardian to every virtue. A more copious explication of all this subject may be found in Aristotle and his followers:<* > we may however suggest {before we quit it}, that since such fatal dangers threaten virtue as it were on both hands, we should certainly apply the greatest care and attention and self-discipline, in governing our several passions, in maintaining a lively and vigorous sense of moral excellence, and cultivating our rational powers [right reason] and the nobler and more extensive calm affections, [whether toward our own true interests or those of mankind] [that look at our own or at the common happiness of mankind]. IV. There’s also some care to be taken of our bodies. Strength and health is to be acquired or preserved chiefly by temperance and exercise; that so our bodies may be enabled to obey the commands of the soul, in enduring all toils we may incurr in discharge of our duty. And since men can do little service to society who have not in their younger years been trained to some useful art or occupation: every one should timeously choose some one, suited to his genius, lawful in its nature, and of use to mankind.6 Nor ought such as are born to estates, who therefor need not for their own support any lucrative profession, think themselves exempted from any such obligation. For it seems more peculiarly incumbent on them{, as Providence exempts them from other cares,} to contribute to the publick interest, by acquiring a compleat knowledge of the rights of mankind, of laws, and civil polity; or at least such acquaintance with all the common business of mankind, that they may be able either by superiour wisdom, or by their interest<, favour,> and influence, to serve {their country or} their neighbours; and not be useless loads of the earth, serving only to consume its products.7 As to the several professions or occupations [arts], we deem them reputable on these two accounts, as they either require a finer genius and greater wisdom, or as they are of greater use in society. On both accounts the occupation of teaching others the grand principles of piety and virtue, {or even the more ingenious arts,} is reputed honourable; so are also the professions of law, medicine, and war, and some others of the more elegant arts. The more extensive merchandise, and even some mechanick arts, are justly reputable both on account of their great utility, and the considerable abilities of mind requisite in them. {Agriculture has been the chief delight of the finest spirits, as} no manner of life is more innocent, none affording sweeter amusements, none more becoming a rational creature, or a person of genteel taste in life <than agriculture>. In the choice of our occupation or profession for life, our chief regard should be to our natural genius. But as our success in any occupation depends in the first place upon our genius, and next to it upon favourable circumstances of fortune, regard is to be had to both, but chiefly to our natural genius: for nature is a much surer and steddier principle.8 [1. ]See System 1.4.8, vol. I, p. 65. [* ]{See a full explication of these characters, the general including all integrity and probity of manners, and the particular, suited to each one’s genius, explained in Cicero de Offic. B. i. 30, 31, 32, &c.} [De officiis, I. 105–21]. [2. ]Cf. Essay on Passions 6.4, pp. 191–93. [3. ]This paragraph follows Aristoteles, Nichomachean Ethics II, 1107a, 28–1108b, 10. [4. ]On the necessity of passions, see Essay on Passions 2.6, pp. 48–55. Hutcheson refers to Simplicius’s commentary on Epictetus’s Manual (Simplicius, Commentaire sur le Manuel d’Épictéte, critical edition by I. Hadot, Leiden: Brill, 1996), chapter 35, and to William King’s De Origine Mali (London, 1702), III.4. [5. ]See Henry More, Enchiridion Ethicum, I.VI.11, p. 27, and Plato, Phaedrus, 246a–d. [* ]Book ii. c.10. [* ]<Very useful observations have been collected by Henry More, a most virtuous man, in his Enchiridion Etichum, and by the Earl of Shaftesbury, a man not less noble in capacity than in birth, in his Inquiry on Virtue and in his Philosophical Rhapsody.> [Neither Henry More, nor Shaftesbury were exactly “followers of Aristotle”; More, however quotes extensively from Aristotle’s Nichomachean Ethics. On virtue as a middle between opposite vices, see Enchiridion Ethicum, II.9, pp. 59–62]. [6. ]Cf. Pufendorf, De officio V.2. But Pufendorf’s chapter on duty to oneself is mostly concerned with the rights of self-defence. [7. ]See Carmichael’s Notes on Puf., pp. 66–67. [8. ]See in the Latin text, notes 11–14. |

Titles (by Subject)