From: The Dial, Vol. I, No. I (July 1840).
Author:
Published: Weeks Jordan and Company 1840 Boston
THESE are the fifth and sixth volumes of Mr. Ripley’s series of Specimens of Foreign Standard Literature. It is saying much in their praise to say, that they are worthy of a place in that series. M. Jouffroy has been for some time very favorably known to our public. Few if any living writers upon Ethical Philosophy stand so high in the estimation of those, who have made this science a study, as he does. We cannot doubt that all who feel any interest in the subject will thank. Mr. Channing for having given us so good a translation of this, which is perhaps the best work the author has yet published. Such a work was greatly needed, and, as is often the case, the need was greater than it was felt to be.
There is no such thing as having no philosophy of morals and religion, though we often hear “practical men,” as they like to be called, express their aversion, if not their contempt, for philosophy. It has been sneeringly asked in a public meeting, “if philosophy ever baked a single loaf of bread,” and that too by one who is recognised a, a public teacher of morals and religion. We would answer him—no, my brother; but then “It is written, ‘man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.’”
There is no one that speaks or acts, who has not a philosophy of morals,—of his actions,—though he may be unconscious of it. No one acts or speaks without motives and principles of some kind or other; and it can be shown what those motives and principles are, and when they are reduced to a system, they constitute the philosophy of that man’s morals—his moral philosophy. This philosophy he may have learned from his father and mother, though they never called their precepts and instructions by the name of philosophy; he may have learned it from the wants and necessities of his condition, or from the impulses of his warm and generous, or cold and selfish heart, as the case may be. It is most likely that he received some part of it from each of these sources. But a philosophy he has, though he may never have reflected upon the motives and principles of his actions enough to have given them a name, much less, to have reduced them to a system.
Since this is so, the importance of making moral philosophy a matter of reading and study is obvious. The morals of a community will be low and selfish unless they do so. But alas for them, when the philosophy that is received and taught is itself low and selfish, and, instead of raising the character, would persuade men that there is no need of anything higher; that in fact there is no height above them, and that those generous and enthusiastic souls, who reject its clear, judicious, and prudent precepts, are fanatical and righteous overmuch. We are no advocates for fanaticism or mysticism; but we would assert with all possible distinctness, that there is something to live for that the eye cannot see and the hands cannot touch; that there is a wisdom which Experience cannot teach, that there is a way that is right which Prudence cannot find. If then we must have a philosophy of morals,—and we have seen that we must, if not voluntarily then in spite of ourselves,—how unspeakably important is it that we have one that will elevate and purify rather than debase and sensualize our souls! The system, which has been most commonly taught in our community hitherto is Paley’s, though we hope, for the good of our countrymen, that few if any of them, have received that system entirely. It is a systematic embodiment of selfishness, which everybody knows does not need to be taught.† This is precisely the system of Ethics which the worldly, selfish, unregenerate heart teaches. This system came from and tends to worldliness and selfishness. It is congenial to every soul, in which the conscience and the spiritual faculties are not sufficiently developed to counteract its influence and force its way up to a higher view of things. But it is not every soul that has spontaneity and force enough to do this. There are many persons also, whose thoughts are too much occupied with the business of their calling in life to allow them to give so much attention to the subject, as to discover the inadequacy and debasing tendency of Paley’s system. These men would fulfil the moral law; but they are too busy to give much time to a study into its nature and requirements. They therefore take the most commonly received exposition of that law, as a standard of duty, trusting that those who make it their business to study into these matters would never approve and recommend a faulty or inadequate system. If this system happen to be a low one, the characters which they form upon it will be low too. The Ethical System of any age is the exponent of the state of morals in that age. If the morals were better than the system, the people would repudiate the system; and if the system were much better than the morals, it would be regarded as extravagant, over scrupulous, and be modified or laid aside for another. Hence he that would labor most effectually for the improvement of a people ·s morals must also labor to introduce a more perfect theory of morals. But as it is with a people so it is with individuals,—every man’s theory is the exponent of himself. A man may borrow a theory that is higher or lower than himself, but the dress never suits him; it can never be his. It is too small for him and he bursts it, or it is too large for him, and he is a David in Saul’s armor.
Paley’s system is psychologically wrong, in that it does not recognise all the facts of man’s moral nature. The facts that Paley has omitted either were not in his consciousness, or else they formed so insignificant a part of it, that they never attracted his attention. Therefore he omitted them. A man differently constituted could not have done this. It would be interesting to show, if we had room, ho\V this system grew out of the time and place in which it appeared, how Paley looked upon the outside of actions, and saw them as they appear to the observer, and not as they appear to the doer of them; and then from the facts thus collected he inferred by the Inductive Method, then so busily applied to the natural sciences, the law from the facts, just as he would have done in the natural sciences. Assuming that ‘whatever is, is right,’ he proceeded to deduce the law of actions, the moral law, like the laws of motion, from what was, and not from what ought to be. He could therefore get to no law that should lead us to higher attainments. The idea of progress is thus precluded. Because bodies left unsupported fall to the ground, it is inferred that gravitation is a law ordained of God, and therefore right. Because men are, or appeared to Paley, to act only from a regard to “reward or punishment, pleasure or pain,” he inferred that it is a law ordained of God, “it is their nature,” that they should do so. So throughout his system. It is no wonder that his system seemed clear, judicious, and sound; for it was proving to them not that they ought to become more disinterested, more magnanimous, and more holy, but it was proving to them that what they were doing was right. It flattered their vanity, while it encouraged and gave them confidence in the sensual and selfish course they were pursuing, and which they were determined, if public opinion were not too strong against them, to pursue. They felt exceedingly obliged to any one who would prove to them, that this, which they were so much inclined to, was right—was the law of the Gospel and of God. It would not be difficult to show, that there is not a profligate or criminal in our country or any other, that cannot justify his course to himself by the principles of Paley’s Philosophy, as he would honestly understand it. We emphasize the last clause of the foregoing sentence because it deserves particular attention. Expediency and Right, Prudence and Conscience unite in Omniscience. If one could know all things, his course would be the same whether he were guided by Expediency or by Right. Although the motives and character of the individual might be different in the one case from what they would be in the other, the course pursued would be the same in both cases. But from this point Expediency and Right, Prudence and Conscience diverge, and the farther any individual is from it, the more diverse the two rules of action will be for him. Hence the course which Expediency points out to any one will be on a level with his character. We can conceive how one may be so short-sighted and have so strong and ungovernable passions, as to justify to himself, by the principles of Paley’s system, any course of action that he may be strongly inclined to. The pleasure and profit that will come from it far outweigh all the evil consequences that he can foresee will happen to himself. There is too a chance of escaping these evil consequences. And, as by this system he is not bound to take anything else into consideration, he will enter without hesitation upon his desired course of action.
Thus much will not have been said in vain, if it serve to show the need of some work upon Ethics that shall take higher and more spiritual views than are presented in the popular treatises. It seems to us, that M. Jouffroy could not have taken a better method to communicate his views to the world than the one he has actually taken. He begins by reviewing the false systems and showing wherein they are faulty. He would thus prepare the way for the true system.
We shall be obliged to be very brief in our analysis of the book. Our object in making the analysis is twofold—to recommend the book to our readers and show them what a rich treasure it is—and to afford an opportunity for sundry remarks of our own upon the same topics.
In his first Lecture, M. Jouffroy speaks of the different relations which a man sustains. 1. His relation to God. 2. His relation to himself. 3. His relation to things. 4. His relation to his kind. A knowledge of what is implied in and required by these four relations constitutes the whole of his Ethical Philosophy. The volumes before us are only an introduction to the great subject. They consist mainly in a review of the systems of Philosophy, which make a system of Ethics impossible, and a criticism of the faulty and defective systems of Ethics that have been taught.
I. The first system that M. Jouffroy reviews is that of Necessity. By denying that we can choose what we will do, it precludes the possibility of a law which shall expound to us what we ought to do. One might as well speak of a moral law for the planet. The great argument for the doctrine of Necessity is the Prescience of God. To foreknow a thing implies that that thing is certain, else it could not be foreknown. But freedom of will implies that the thing about which the freedom is to be exercised is contingent. Foreknowledge, then, requires that all things be certain and necessary—freedom of will, on the other hand, requires that they be contingent. The problem is to reconcile the two. If God foreknows events, then he has made them certain, or there is a fate behind him that has made them so, and they are no longer contingent upon the election of the will. It seems impossible to solve this problem without greatly modifying our view of God. Many do not feel its difficulty; but of those that do feel it, some adopt the doctrine of Foreknowledge and Necessity, others get what they consider a solution, while others, like M. Jouffroy, say that they prefer to give up the Foreknowledge of God, if either must be given up. They think they feel more sure of the Freedom of their Will than of the Foreknowledge of God. Our only hope of a solution to this problem is by eliminating the foreign and contradictory element. Philosophy has now recognised the fact, that time and space are only forms or modes of understanding things, and not qualities of things themselves. Hence things only appear to us to sustain a relation to time and space. The time element must therefore be eliminated from this problem as foreign and extraneous to it. We should not then say that God foreknows, but simply that he knows. Then there will appear to be no contradiction between God’s knowledge and man’s freedom.
II. The next false system which M. Jouffroy takes up is Mysticisrn. The objection to Mysticism is, that it absolves one from all his obligations to men and things, and leaves only the relation of man to God and himself, and not even these unimpaired. He says that Mysticism rests upon two facts. With all our efforts we cannot attain to more than a very small part of the good which our nature craves, or accomplish, except in an imperfect degree, our destiny.” “We cannot in this life secure even that measure of good which is actually within our reach, except on condition of substituting for the natural action of our faculties another mode of action, whose characteristic is concentration and whose consequence is fatigue.” We do not believe that the mystics will acknowledge that these facts are the basis of their system. Actions, like the walls of our houses, have two faces which are totally unlike, an outside face seen by the observer, and an inside one seen by the doer of the actions only. M. Jouffroy, not being himself a mystic, and of course not having seen the inside of mysticism, cannot represent it to their satisfaction. He, like everybody else, must interpret others by himself. It is very likely that a perception of these two facts would make M. Jouffroy a mystic, if anything would. Therefore he infers that it is the cause of Mysticism wherever it appears. We suspect that there must be some facts in the consciousness of a mystic, which owing to a constitutional difference, arc not to be found, or at least have not been found in Jouffroy’s. M. Jouffroy, however, aims at nothing farther than to give an account of Mysticism in so far as it influences Ethics. Lu so far as it proceeds from the facts to which he refers its origin, and leads to the consequences that he points out, his remarks are quite satisfactory.
We should give another account of Mysticism. We should say, that it originated in a great predominance of the Reason, the faculty of insight, over the Understanding, the faculty for explaining, unfolding, and illustrating things. This constitution of mind is also usually accompanied with a large development of the Imagination. The mystic jumps up so high, as though to God face to face, that his feet cannot touch the ground. By so doing he sees truths, or what he calls truths, which his feeble understanding cannot systematize and adequately state. He can only suggest his impressions. His imagination immediately presents some image, or series of images, by which his thought can be suggested, and he writes a metaphor, a parable, or an allegory, which taken literally, that is, interpreted by the understanding, would give nonsense, or at least bad sense. One must put himself into the subjective condition of the speaker or writer before he can understand him. It would be unjust to these men and untrue to history, not to acknowledge that the men, who have been in advance of their age in spiritual matters, have always been considered by their cotemporaries more or less inclined to Mysticism. They are the prophets of the age. They are made to utter what they cannot thoroughly understand and logically state to themselves. We arc like men entering a cavern by its only mouth. We obstruct the light by our own bodies, so that it is dark before us, and it is only when we turn round and look back and reflect upon what is behind us, that all is light and clear. All is darkness and mystery before us, and therefore the foremost must be mystical.
III. The third system that M. Jouffroy reviews is Pantheism. He takes this system as developed by Spinoza. The two lectures on this subject we presume will be found less satisfactory than any others in the book. He confesses that he does not fully understand Spinoza. As we shall be obliged to omit some things that we would gladly say, if we could without transgressing our proper limits, we will pass this account of Pantheism, with merely remarking upon its defects as the foundation of an Ethical System. Pantheism, laying down the principle that there can be substantially but one being and one cause, necessarily concentrates all causality, and thus all liberty, in one being, and necessarily denies liberty to all but this One Being, even if it ascribes liberty to Him, as in some cases it does not. Hence Pantheism annihilates man, so far as moral obligation is concerned. Man’s desires, thoughts, and volitions, good and bad, are manifestations of God; and if so they must be good, and are bad only in appearance, if at all. Hence the tendency of Pantheism is to remove the moral restraints from all our propensities to licentiousness and sensuality.
IV. The other false system of Philosophy, which makes a system of Ethics impossible, is Skepticism. This consists in denying that there is any such thing as absolute truth, or in maintaining that if there is, the human faculties are inadequate to its discovery. With the skeptic there is no Truth, all is mere Opinion. If there is no Truth, or if we cannot know the truth, there can be no system of Ethics which we shall feel obliged to obey. We shall not know that that thing which is commanded is right and true, and if it be not, we are under no obligation to it. The refutation of this system is a statement of the fact, that we do know some things to be absolutely true in ethics as well as in mathematics.
In the next Lecture M. Jouffroy speaks of the Skepticism of the Present Age. This is’ a most admirable Lecture. We will not attempt to give an outline of it, for every word of it is too precious to be omitted, and we hope that all who read our article will read this one Lecture, if they cannot be induced or cannot find time to read the whole of the two volumes. The reader will bear in mind that the author was a Frenchman, and is speaking more particularly of France, but the most of what he says is as applicable to other nations as to his own.
We have departed somewhat from the author’s method of taking up his subjects. Before reviewing these four systems of Philosophy, which make a system of ethics impossible, he has two Lectures upon the Facts of Man’s Moral Nature. These are two excellent chapters, and contain the basis of Jouffroy’s system. Their contents cannot be too deeply impressed upon the memory.
There are three successive developments in the soul, each bringing new psychological fuels, new motives, and a new law of action. The first is impulse—then the intellect—and after that the spiritual faculties.
The first development is that of impulse. Thus hunger and impulses of the like kind which arise from the very constitution of our natures, are of this class. They compel us to action. These motives do not always have self, but often the good of another person for their object. Thus the mother’s care of her child is of this kind. Undoubtedly it makes her happy to take care of her child. It is no less clear, that it is, in the highest sense of the word, right and duty that she should; but we suspect she does it not so much because of the happiness it will afford her, or because she thinks it is right and a duty to do it, as because she loves the child. Here then is the first class of facts in a man’s moral nature. We call them impulses because they impel—because they arise in the soul, sometimes uncalled by any outward object whatever, and sometimes excited by some outward object, and impel a man from within to action.
But when the intellect comes into activity, we recollect that the gratification of our appetites gave us pleasure. Hence a desire to reproduce this pleasure or gratification becomes a motive to action. This is self love. We seek to surround ourselves with those things that will minister to our enjoyment. We seek to know and do what will conduce to our happiness. If we are assured that the obedience to a certain law, or the compliance with certain conditions, will secure our happiness here and hereafter, we comply and think it right to do so.
The development, or rather the manifestation of thought, does something for the benevolent impulses similar to what it does for the selfish ones. The individual is conscious that he has promoted the happiness of one whom he loves. Intellect becomes a functionary of his generous impulses, and he contrives means to do good to others.
While in this state we are, to use the expression of St. Paul, under the law. We must go to the written law to know what is right. We then obey it from a desire to escape the consequences of wrong-doing, or at best from a sense of duty and not from love. As it is with religion so it is with other things. If one would write a poem or oration, he must study the authors that have written upon these subjects, that he may know what are the laws of this class of compositions, and what is good taste. He is not a law unto himself but is under the law. He does not know that the Soul never violates the laws of art or offends good taste. We offend and mar only when we are stupid, affected, or seek to do mechanically what can be properly done by inspiration only. The Soul is always a poet and an artist. It is a law unto itself in these matters. True feeling and glowing thought will do more to give one a good style and manner than all outward appliances.
But there is another law and other facts that are developed in the consciousness. It is the idea of order, of absolute good, of right, and a love of this becomes a motive to action. We see something that is good and true in itself, and therefore ought to be. We feel it our duty to pursue it. This motive is not impulse, it is not a consideration of personal good, whether it be the good of ourselves or of others, – it is a love of what is good and right and true in itself, and for its own sake, irrespective of any other considerations or motives whatever.
M. Jouffroy treats this development of the soul only in relation to his subject, as introducing new facts into a man’s moral nature, and furnishing a new motive and law of action. This development, if we mistake not, deserves a more distinct recognition, and a more full and scientific treatment than it has yet received. We can of course pretend to give nothing more than an outline of it in the present article. We shall speak of this development only in its relation to the thought of the individual.
In the earliest part of their lives, persons are under the tutelage of their parents. They can understand and receive before they can examine and originate for themselves. They imbibe not only their parents’ views, but also the common sentiment and belief of the community in which they live. In politics they arc of the same party, in religion they are of the same sect, and of the same school in philosophy with their parents and the friends by whom they have been surrounded. Of course they must have received all these views upon some outward authority, for as yet their minds are not sufficiently developed to examine them thoroughly and perceive their fundamental truth. This authority may be parents, friends, public sentiment, usage, or anything out of themselves. With these views, resting upon such grounds, they are satisfied and content for a while. They are content to take these things upon outward, foreign authority, because as yet they know of no other. They are under the law; this law may be usage, fashion, public opinion, the opinion of friends or of men of high reputation, or the Scriptures. They are content to rest upon these outward foundations, because, as we have just said, they know as yet of no other. But with the development of the spiritual sense, they ham another foundation whereon to build. A window is thus opened, through which the mind can see, or rather an eye is given by which to look into the nature of things. We thus come to have an intuition of what must be, of the absolute and necessary. It is seen to be as eternally and absolutely necessary, that love and not hate should be the law and condition of happiness among moral beings, as that nil the angles around any given point should be equal to four right, angles. It is seen that humility and self-renunciation have a foundation and necessity in the nature of things, as much as that two and two should be four. When one begins to see that truth and right are absolute, and founded on the nature of things, into which he is now able to see for himself, he asks why may not these intuitions become the basis upon which to build all that I receive? Is not this the rock upon which if one build he shall never be moved? All other foundations are sandy. Do the best that I can, they will often admit of a doubt, a suspicion. Suppose I could prove that God had sent a man into the world to reveal all the truth that we need to know, (a thing which it would be very difficult if not impossible to prove beyond the possibility of a doubt,) I should still be left to doubt in many cases if I understood him aright. But if I build upon the soul there can be no doubt. Here then I empty myself of all that I have been taught, of all that I have received dogmatically, and will henceforth receive nothing whose foundation in the soul I cannot see. He thus passes from dogmatism into skepticism, from which he will gradually emerge into a faith that cannot be shaken.
By this method he discovers the ideal or perfect state, and thus can understand the imperfections and wrongs of the actual one. His tendency is to become a radical, to tear down all things that do not square with the ideal. Everything that is wrong or imperfect he would have done away. If he be of a bold ambitious temperament, he commences by declaring war against all existing institutions and customs. His tendency is to overlook the stubborn fact, that the gross, intractable, actual, can never be brought up to the ideal. If he be timid, and care more for the kingdoms of this world and the glory of them than for the kingdom of Heaven, he will renounce his visionary impracticable fancies, and fall down and worship.
In ardent and susceptible temperaments, the period of this change is one of great suffering. The sufferer will go to friends for sympathy, to the wise for counsel, to books for instruction. They can at best afford but temporary relief, and very likely will make him worse. He must tread the wine-press all alone. He can have no more rest until he have a faith built upon the soul. If he will have patience, perseverance, and integrity,—stern integrity,—a cheerful faith will come in due time. But he must make no compromise, no shift, if he would not sacrifice his prospect of a serene and tranquil life. He must await the Lord’s time. This change is sudden and violent in ardent and enthusiastic natures, slow and gradual in phlegmatic ones. Persons in whom sentiment and feeling greatly exceed thought and reflection, and who therefore rest upon sentiment rather than upon thought, may not be conscious of any change like what we have described. They are more poetic than philosophic.
Such is a very hasty and imperfect outline of the transition from dogmatism to faith. M. Jouffroy, after having reviewed the four systems of Philosophy, which in one way or another make Ethics impossible, proceeds to examine the various false and imperfect systems of Ethics which have been taught. He first reviews the selfish system. He takes it as developed and taught by Hobbes and Bentham. This system is psychologically wrong, inasmuch as it fails to recognise the generous and benevolent impulses, and any of the facts of the spiritual development. So radical a defect must of course spoil the system, even if it do not make it positively mischievous. These teachers recognise no higher motive than self love, and no higher law than self-interest well understood. This is the very lowest view that any one, who had any portion, however small, of human nature within him could possibly take.
Our author then passes to a consideration of those systems which recognise disinterested motives,—motives that arc distinct from self-love,—and of these he first considers the sentimental system. This system was developed and taught by Adam Smith. It is usually called the system of sympathy. Smith taught that the essence of morality could consist only in such actions, as could be generally approved of. By sympathy we put ourselves in the condition of others, and judge impartially of the propriety of their actions. From this impartial judgment we infer the general rule of action. Hence the rule of this system would be, act so as that others will sympathize with you, and approve of what you do. In other words, it would say, “All things whatsoever ye would that others should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.” A great advance was herein made upon the selfish system. The fact of disinterestedness had been recognised. But we easily see the defects of this system. Its psychological defect is, that it does not recognise all of the impulses as motives to action, (and they are certainly right and proper in certain cases, as hunger, for instance,) neither does it recognise at all the love of the true and the beautiful, the good and the right irrespective of personal considerations. Its practical defect is, that it does not give a standard or idea of duty that is sufficiently elevated. I am to do what I would have another do unto me: what if I am not good and wise enough to wish to have another do the thing that is right and best for me? I am my own standard, and in that case I should do what is not right and best for another. I am to act so that others will sympathize with and approve of what I do. This is appealing to public opinion for a standard. But what if others are not wise and good enough to appreciate and approve of the highest and best things that one can do? According to this theory he must not do them.
The next system that M. Jouffroy reviews was taught by Shaftesbury, Butler, and Hutchison. The former was a statesman and man of the world; the second was a divine; and Hutchison was a metaphysician by profession. They saw the inadequacy of Smith’s system, and sought to introduce a better one. “Shaftesbury held with Plato,” says Tennemann, “that the Good and the Beautiful are identical.” Philosophers of this class hold that good is a quality of actions, and is to be seen by a special and appropriate sense, called the moral sense, just as color is seen by the eye. What we thus see to be good, we feel that we ought to do. But this system is psychologically defective in not recognising all of the motives to action that we are conscious of. The practical defect is, that it does not recognise the use of the understanding in determining what is our duty. It teaches that all duty is perceived by a direct vision of the Moral Sense, or Conscience, as color is perceived by a direct vision of the eye. Now in most cases this may appear to be true, if we do not analyze the action of the mind too closely. But in difficult cases we know that we do not see at once what is our duty. We often hesitate long before we can form an opinion, and then frequently change it after it is once formed. But if this system were true, there could be no deliberation, no altering of opinion as to right and duty, any more than there could as to the color of an object, whether it were black or white.
None of the false systems of Ethics, that we have thus far spoken of, recognise innate ideas as n part of the facts of consciousness. The next step towards the true theory was the recognition of these innate ideas. The systems that do this are called Rational systems. M. Jouffroy takes the one developed by Richard Price. The views of Price are essentially the same as those taught by Dr. Cudworth, and the Platonists of his time. This system agreed with the system of Moral Sense in teaching that good is only a quality of actions. It considers good as a simple indefinable quality recognised at first sight. But the Rational System differs from that of the Moral Sense, in teaching that this quality is perceived not by a peculiar and appropriate sense for it but by the a priori intuitions of the pure Reason. This change may seem unimportant at first thought. But it is in reality a great change. Price was undoubtedly led to it by perceiving the psychological defects of Hutcheson’s theory. By acknowledging that we have a priori conceptions, Price taught that we can have an acquaintance with absolute and necessary truths; with truths that are above us and independent of our will and the activity of our minds. We receive the mind of God into our minds, and these a priori conceptions are the direct inspiration and gift of God. A communication is thus opened between us and the Infinite, the Eternal, and the Absolute. These conceptions or intuitions of the pure Reason must be in, and the same in all minds, for they are the mind of God. Hence the principles of morality and right are eternal and unchangeable. They are founded in the nature of things, and are as necessary as the truths of mathematics.
This system is obnoxious to the same practical objections that were brought against the system of the Moral Sense. It leaves no room for the exercise of the understanding in determining what is duty. This is contrary to fact and experience. It moreover leads to rashness and headlong precipitation in persons, who have more activity than thought, and to bigotry and uncharitableness in the self-confident. Their theory of morals does not teach them, as it should, that the quickness with which they arrive at their conclusions is only a result of their superficiality. They consider the delay and deliberation of differently constituted minds as a moral obliquity. They feel that they are not called upon to exercise charity towards those, who think differently upon matters of right and duty, any more than they are towards those that assert that gold is white and coal yellow.
But it always implies a high culture—a much higher moral than intellectual culture—to adopt the Rational System. We would therefore deal gently with it, and treat those who receive it with great respect. We are nevertheless compelled, if we would do justice to every part of human nature, to point out its defects. These defects will be felt by those only, who have a metaphysical turn of mind. By attending to the operations of their own minds, they will find that they do not and cannot judge of a thing, whether it be right and obligatory or not, merely by knowing what the thing is. In other words, they will find that good and right is not a quality of actions, but rather the relation of actions to some ultimate good, which relation can be determined only by an exercise of the understanding.
M. Jouffroy has not attempted to develop his own system in the work before us; yet we think that it would not be difficult to foresee, from what has been said, what its essential features would be. He must recognise every motive that we are conscious of,—the unreflecting impulses, self love, the love of others, and the love of the right and true and beautiful in and for itself. He would deny that good and right are qualities of actions to be directly perceived by a special and appropriate sense. He would maintain that there is an absolute good, order, right, or beauty, the ideas of which are furnished by the Reason prior to any judgment of the understanding, and before we can say of any act or thing, this is good or right or beautiful. All things, he would teach, whether actions or institutions, are judged of by comparing them with the ideas of absolute good and beauty furnished to the mind by the Reason, and approved or condemned accordingly. Whatever tends to bring about this absolute good is right and obligatory, whatever does not is wrong, and should be avoided. Duty is only a means to the absolute good.
The difference between this and the Rational System consists principally in the result of the analysis of that action of the mind, by which we come to know what is right. Jouffroy would say that duty is but a means to the absolute good, and that we have no way of knowing what is duty, of knowing what things are a means to this absolute good, except by comparing them with it. Price and those who hold the Sentimental System would say, that we have a faculty for knowing these means by some quality inherent in them, and that too without knowing the end until one has arrived at it.
It would not be safe or fair to proceed to examine Jouffroy’s system, until he has developed it himself. Yet we will venture a few remarks upon it. When, according to this system, one has formed an idea of the absolute good, the means by which it is brought about are left to be determined by prudence, by expediency. So far as this feature of his system is concerned, Jouffroy would disagree with the systems of Paley and others only in the end for which one is to labor. Both systems recognise expediency and prudence as the method of determining what is our duty. The difference consists mainly in the different ends proposed. In the system of Paley and the selfish systems generally, the end is the good of self, and morality is self-interest well understood. With Jouffroy the end is the absolute good. By the former system we are taught to consult prudence and expediency, to ascertain what will be most conducive to self-interest; by the latter we are to consult the same guides to ascertain what will be most conducive to the absolute good. M. Jouffroy would say, that having fixed upon the absolute good as the end, we are left to prudence to choose the means. We should think, from the Lectures before us, that M. Jouffroy’s system would overlook what seems to be true in Price’s method of deciding upon duty. Is it not a matter of consciousness that we do decide concerning some things in and for themselves, without any regard to their consequences, that they are right, and must never be omitted, or that they are wrong, and ought never to be done? Have we not certain instinctive impressions, that make us feel that certain things are right and others are wrong, without any regard to consequences, or to absolute good? Or in other words, is not this part of Price’s system true, though not the whole truth? If so, Jouffroy’s System is true, but not the whole truth. He takes the matter where Price leaves it. If M. Jouffroy incorporates this part of Price’s system into his own, and then extends his system over the ground that is not covered by Price’s, (and we will not prejudge that he will not,) we think that he will leave but very little, if anything, for those who come after him to do, except to carry out his system into its almost infinite ramifications and applications.
In the last Lecture M. Jouffroy passes in hasty review the Rational systems of Wollaston, Clarke, Montesquieu, Malebranche, and Wolf. We cannot here notice their systems.
We cannot conceive of a better Introduction to the true system of Ethics, than one upon M. Jouffroy’s plan, and his work is on the whole as satisfactory as we have a right to expect from any man. It evinces great clearness, patient industry, and impartiality. His soul, however, is not one of the colures which contains within itself all other possible souls. His heart is not ardent, passionate, and enthusiastic enough to have felt all that has been felt by the human heart; his intellect is not comprehensive enough to have thought all that has been thought, and therefore he does not comprehend nil humanity within himself. He cannot take all the points of view from which things human and divine may be considered. He cannot be purely enough an intellect, and have that intellect large enough to comprehend Spinoza and his system. He cannot put himself into a condition where Reason and the Imagination are sufficiently predominant over the understanding to fully comprehend the mystics. Yet the value of the book before us as an Introduction to Ethics is but slightly if at all diminished on this account.
But there is an essential imperfection in Ethics at best. Their problem is to find a law of duty that shall apply to all cases, a law which one person can determine for another—a law to which every one has a right, if not to enforce, yet to expect and demand obedience. But Christ is the end of the law to every one that believes. The highest statement of Ethics is Justice; but there is a higher than Justice, even Love, which is the fulfilling of the law. Many things there are which ought to be done,—many things there are which the generous heart will feel inclined to do,—but which no system of Ethics can prove that he ought to do. The highest thing that Justice can say is,—an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth; but Love says, resist not evil; love your enemies; bless them that curse you; do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you. But the law is a schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, who is the end of the law. It is therefore of great importance that we understand this law, and to this end we commend the work of Jouffroy that we have been reviewing as one of the best helps that can be found.
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* Introduction to Ethics; including a Critical Survey of Moral Systems. Translated from the French of Jouffroy, by WILLIAM H. CHANNING. Boston: Hilliard, Gray, and Company. Two vols. 12mo. pp. 324, 358.
† Lest it may seem that we are too severe upon the Archdeacon, we quote the following passage. “And from this account of obligation, it follows, that we are obliged to nothing but we ourselves are to gain or lose something by; for nothing else can be a violent motive to us. As we should not be obliged to obey the laws or the magistrate, unless rewards or punishments, pleasure or pain somehow or other depended upon our obedience, so neither should we, without the same reason, be obliged to do what is right, to practice virtue, or to obey the commands of God.”—Mor. and Polit. Philos. B. II. c. 2.
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