We found that the moral emotions belong to a wider class of emotions, which may be described as retributive; that moral disapproval is a kind of resentment, akin to anger and revenge, and that moral approval is a kind of retributive kindly emotion, akin to gratitude. At the same time they differ from kindred non-moral emotions by their disinterestedness, apparent impartiality, and flavour of generality. As for the origin of the retributive emotions, we may assume that they have been acquired by means of natural selection in the struggle for existence; both resentment and retributive kindly emotion are states of mind which have a tendency to promote the interests of the individuals who feel them. This explanation also applies to the moral emotions in so far as they are retributive: it accounts for the hostile attitude of moral disapproval towards the cause of pain, and for the friendly attitude of moral approval towards the cause of pleasure. Our retributive emotions are always reactions against pain or pleasure felt by ourselves; this holds true of the moral emotions as well as of revenge and gratitude. But how shall we explain those elements in the moral emotions by which they are distinguished from other, non-moral retributive emotions? First, why should we, quite disinterestedly, feel pain evoking indignation because our neighbour is hurt, and pleasure calling forth approval because he is benefited?
We noticed that sympathy aided by the altruistic sentiment—sympathy in the common sense of the word—tends to produce disinterested retributive emotions. In all animal species which possess the altruistic sentiment in some form or other we may be sure to find sympathetic resentment as its accompaniment. And this sentiment may also give rise to disinterested retributive kindly emotion, even though it is more readily moved by the sight of pain than by the sight of pleasure and though sympathetic retributive kindliness has a powerful rival in the feeling of envy. Moreover, sympathetic retributive emotions may not only be reactions against sympathetic pain or pleasure, but may also be directly produced by the cognition of the signs of resentment or of the signs of retributive kindliness. Punishments and rewards tend to reproduce the emotions from which they sprang, and language communicates retributive emotions by terms of condemnation and by terms of praise. Finally, there are cases of disinterested retributive emotions into which sympathy does not enter at all—sentimental antipathies and likings quite disinterested in character.
There are thus various ways in which disinterested retributive emotions may originate. But how shall we explain the fact that disinterestedness together with apparent impartiality and the flavour of generality have become characteristics by which the so-called moral emotions are distinguished from other retributive emotions? To this question the following answer was given:—Society is the birthplace of the moral consciousness. The first moral judgments expressed not the private emotions of isolated individuals but emotions which were felt by the community at large. Public indignation is the prototype of moral disapproval and public approval the prototype of moral approbation. And these public emotions are characterised by generality, individual disinterestedness, and apparent impartiality.
The moral emotions give rise to a variety of moral concepts, which are in different ways connected with the emotions from which they were derived. Thus moral disapproval is at the bottom of the concepts bad, vice, and wrong, ought and duty, right and rights, justice and injustice; whilst moral approval has led to the concepts good, virtue, and merit. It has, in particular, been of fundamental importance for the whole of our investigation to recognise the true contents of the notions of ought and duty. If these concepts were unanalysable, as they have often been represented to be, any attempt to explain the origin and development of the moral ideas would, in my opinion, be a hopeless failure.
From the predicates of moral judgments we proceeded to consider their subjects. Generally speaking, such judgments are passed on conduct or character, and allowance is made for the various elements of which conduct and character are composed in proportion as the moral judgment is scrutinising and enlightened. It is only owing to ignorance or lack of due reflection if, as is often the case, moral estimates are influenced by external events which are entirely independent of the agent’s will; if individuals who are incapable of recognising any act of theirs as right or wrong are treated as responsible beings; if motives are completely or partially disregarded; if little cognisance is taken of forbearances in comparison with acts; if want of foresight or want of self-restraint is overlooked when the effect produced by it is sufficiently remote. We were also able to explain why moral judgments are passed on conduct and character. This is due to the facts that moral judgments spring from moral emotions; that the moral emotions are retributive emotions; that a retributive emotion is a reactive attitude of mind, either kindly or hostile, towards a living being (or something looked upon in the light of a living being), regarded as a cause of pleasure or as a cause of pain; and that a living being is regarded as a true cause of pleasure or pain only in so far as this feeling is assumed to be caused by its will. It is a circumstance of the greatest importance that not only moral emotions but non-moral retributive emotions are felt with reference to phenomena exactly similar in their general nature to those on which moral judgments are passed. How could we account for this remarkable coincidence unless the moral judgments were based on emotions and the moral emotions were retributive emotions akin to gratitude and revenge?
Our theory as to the nature of the moral concepts and emotions is further supported by another and very comprehensive set of facts. In our discussion of the particular modes of conduct which are subject to moral valuation and of the judgments passed on them by different peoples and in different ages, this theory has constantly been called in to explain the data before us. It is noteworthy that the very acts, forbearances, and omissions which are condemned as wrong are also apt to call forth anger and revenge, and that the acts and forbearances which are praised as morally good are apt to call forth gratitude. This coincidence, again, undoubtedly bears testimony both to the emotional basis of the moral concepts and to the retributive character of the moral emotions. Thus the conclusions arrived at in the first section of the work, while helping to explain the facts mentioned in the two other sections, are at the same time greatly strengthened by these facts. Any attempt to discover the nature and origin of the moral consciousness must necessarily take into account the moral ideas of mankind at large. And though painfully conscious of the incompleteness of the present treatise, I think I may confidently ask, with reference to its fundamental thesis, whether any other theory of the moral consciousness has ever been subjected to an equally comprehensive test.
The general uniformity of human nature accounts for the great similarities which characterise the moral ideas of mankind. But at the same time these ideas also present radical differences. A mode of conduct which among one people is condemned as wrong is among another people viewed with indifference or regarded as praiseworthy or enjoined as a duty. One reason for these variations lies in different external conditions. Hardships of life may lead to the killing of infants or abandoning of aged parents or eating of human bodies; and necessity and the force of habit may deprive these actions of the stigma which would otherwise be attached to them. Economic conditions have influenced moral ideas relating, for instance, to slavery, labour, and cleanliness; whilst the form of marriage and the opinions concerning it have been largely determined by such a factor as the numerical proportion between the sexes. But the most common differences of moral estimates have undoubtedly a psychical origin.
When we examine the moral rules of uncivilised races we find that they in a very large measure resemble those prevalent among nations of culture. In every savage community homicide is prohibited by custom, and so is theft. Savages also regard charity as a duty and praise generosity as a virtue—indeed, their customs concerning mutual aid are often much more stringent than our own; and many uncivilised peoples are conspicuous for their aversion to telling lies. But at the same time there is a considerable difference between the regard for life, property, truth, and the general wellbeing of a neighbour, which displays itself in primitive rules of morality and that which is found among ourselves. Savages’ prohibitions of murder, theft, and deceit, as also their injunctions of charity and kind behaviour, have, broadly speaking, reference only to members of the same community or tribe. They carefully distinguish between an act of homicide committed among their own people and one where the victim is a stranger; whilst the former is in ordinary circumstances disapproved of, the latter is in most cases allowed and often considered worthy of praise. And the same thing holds true of theft and lying and other injuries. Apart from the privileges which are granted to guests, and which are always of very short duration, a stranger is in early society devoid of all rights. This is the case not only among savages but among nations of archaic culture as well. When we from the lower races pass to peoples more advanced in civilisation we find that the social unit has grown larger, that the nation has taken the place of the tribe, and that the circle of persons within which the infliction of injuries is prohibited has extended accordingly. But the old distinction between offences against compatriots and harm done to foreigners remains. Nay, it survives to some extent even among ourselves, as appears from the prevailing attitude towards war and the readiness with which wars are waged. But although the difference between a fellow countryman and a foreigner has not ceased to affect the moral feelings of men even in the midst of modern civilisation, its influence has certainly been decreasing. The doctrine has been set forth, and has been gradually gaining ground, that our duties towards our fellow men are universal duties, not restricted by the limits of country or race. Those who recognise the emotional origin of the rules of duty find no difficulty in explaining all these facts. The expansion of the commandments relating to neighbours coincides with the expansion of the altruistic sentiment. And the cause of this coincidence at once becomes clear when we consider that such commandments mainly spring from the emotion of sympathetic resentment, and that sympathetic resentment is rooted in the altruistic sentiment.
Besides the extension of duties towards neighbours so as to embrace wider and wider circles of men, there is another point in which the moral ideas of mankind have undergone an important change on the upward path from savagery and barbarism to civilisation. They have become more enlightened. Though moral ideas are based upon emotions, though all moral concepts are essentially generalisations of tendencies in certain phenomena to call forth moral approval or disapproval, the influence of intellectual considerations upon moral judgments is naturally very great. All higher emotions are determined by cognitions—sensations or ideas; they therefore vary according as the cognitions vary, and the nature of a cognition may very largely depend upon reflection or insight. If a person tells us an untruth we are apt to feel indignant; but if, on due reflection, we find that his motive was benevolent, for instance a desire to save the life of the person to whom the untruth was told, our indignation ceases, and may even be succeeded by approval. The change of cognitions, or ideas, has thus produced a change of emotions. Now, the evolution of the moral consciousness partly consists in its development from the unreflecting to the reflecting stage, from the unenlightened to the enlightened. This appears from the decreasing influence of external events upon moral judgments and from the growing discrimination with reference to motives, negligence, and other factors in conduct which are carefully considered by a scrupulous judge. More penetrating reflection has also reduced the part played by disinterested likes and dislikes in the formation of moral ideas. When we clearly realise that a certain act is productive of no real harm but is condemned simply because it causes aversion or disgust, we can hardly look upon it as a proper object of moral censure—unless, indeed, its commission is considered to imply a blamable disregard for other persons’ sensibilities. Deliberate resentment, whether moral or non-moral, is too much concerned with the will of the agent to be felt towards a person who obviously neither intends to offend anybody nor is guilty of culpable oversight. Nay, even when the agent knows that his behaviour is repulsive to others, he may be considered justified in acting as he does. Some degree of reflection easily leads to the notion that sentimental antipathies are no sufficient ground for interfering with other individuals’ liberty of action either by punishing them or by subjecting them to moral censure, provided of course that they do not in an indelicate manner shock their neighbours’ feelings. Hence many persons have recourse to utilitarian pretexts to support moral opinions or legal enactments which have originated in mere aversions; thus making futile attempts to reconcile old ideas with the requirements of a moral consciousness which is duly influenced by reflection.
In innumerable cases the variations of moral estimates are due to differences of beliefs. Almost every chapter of this work has borne witness to the enormous influence which the belief in supernatural forces or beings or in a future state has exercised upon the moral ideas of mankind, and has at the same time shown how exceedingly varied this influence has been. Religion, or superstition (as the case may be), has on the one hand stigmatised murder and suicide, on the other hand it has commended human sacrifice and certain cases of voluntary self-destruction. It has inculcated humanity and charity, but has also led to cruel persecutions of persons embracing another creed. It has emphasised the duty of truthspeaking, and has itself been a cause of pious fraud. It has promoted both cleanly habits and filthiness. It has enjoined labour and abstinence from labour, sobriety and drunkenness, marriage and celibacy, chastity and temple prostitution. It has introduced a great variety of new duties and virtues, quite different from those which are recognised by the moral consciousness when left to itself, but nevertheless in many cases considered more important than any other duties or virtues. It seems that the moral ideas of uncivilised men are more affected by magic than by religion, and that the religious influence has reached its greatest extension at certain stages of culture which, though comparatively advanced, do not include the highest stage. Increasing knowledge lessens the sphere of the supernatural, and the ascription of a perfectly ethical character to the godhead does away with moral estimates which have sprung from less elevated religious conceptions.