While Hume was preparing for the press the third part of his "Treatise of Human Nature,"—on the subject of Morals, Francis Hutcheson, then professor of moral philosophy in the university of Glasgow, was enjoying a reputation in the philosophical world scarcely inferior to that of either of his great contemporaries, Berkeley and Wolff. From the following correspondence it will be seen that Hume submitted the manuscript of his forthcoming volume to Hutcheson's inspection; and he shows more inclination to receive with deference the suggestions of that distinguished man, than to allow himself to be influenced from any other quarter. But still, it will be observed that it is only in details that he receives instruction, and that he vigorously supports the fundamental principles of his system. The correspondence illustrates the method in which he held himself as working with human nature—not as an artist, but an anatomist, whose minute critical examinations might be injured by any bursts of feeling or eloquence.[111:1] The letters show how far he saw into the depths of the utilitarian system; and prove that it was more
completely formed in his mind than it appeared in his book. Notions of prudence appear to have restrained him, at that time, from issuing so full a development of the system as that which he afterwards published; but he soon discovered that it was not in that department of his works that he stood on the most dangerous ground.
Hume to Francis Hutcheson.
"Ninewells, 17th Sept. 1739.
"Sir,—I am much obliged to you for your reflections on my papers. I have perused them with care, and find they will be of use to me. You have mistaken my meaning in some passages, which, upon examination, I have found to proceed from some ambiguity or defect in my expression.
"What affected me most in your remarks, is your observing that there wants a certain warmth in the cause of virtue, which you think all good men would relish, and could not displease amidst abstract inquiries. I must own this has not happened by chance, but is the effect of a reasoning either good or bad. There are different ways of examining the mind, as well as the body. One may consider it either as an anatomist or as a painter: either to discover its most secret springs and principles, or to describe the grace and beauty of its actions. I imagine it impossible to conjoin these two views. Where you pull off the skin, and display all the minute parts, there appears something trivial, even in the noblest attitudes and most vigorous actions; nor can you ever render the object graceful or engaging, but by clothing the parts again with skin and flesh, and presenting only their bare outside. An anatomist, however, can give very
good advice to a painter or statuary. And, in like manner, I am persuaded that a metaphysician may be very helpful to a moralist, though I cannot easily conceive these two characters united in the same work. Any warm sentiment of morals, I am afraid, would have the air of declamation amidst abstract reasonings, and would be esteemed contrary to good taste. And though I am much more ambitious of being esteemed a friend to virtue than a writer of taste, yet I must always carry the latter in my eye, otherwise I must despair of ever being serviceable to virtue. I hope these reasons will satisfy you; though at the same time I intend to make a new trial, if it be possible to make the moralist and metaphysician agree a little better.
"I cannot agree to your sense of natural. 'Tis founded on final causes, which is a consideration that appears to me pretty uncertain and unphilosophical. For, pray, what is the end of man? Is he created for happiness, or for virtue? for this life, or for the next? for himself, or for his Maker? Your definition of natural depends upon solving these questions, which are endless, and quite wide of my purpose. I have never called justice unnatural, but only artificial. 'Atque ipsa utilitas, justi prope mater et æqui,'[113:1] says one of the best moralists of antiquity. Grotius and Puffendorf, to be consistent, must assert the same.
"Whether natural abilities be virtue, is a dispute of words. I think I follow the common use of language; virtus signified chiefly courage among the Romans. I was just now reading this character of Alexander VI. in Guicciardin. 'In Alessandro sesto fu solertia et sagacità singulare: consiglio eccellente, efficacia a
persuadere maravigliosa, et a tutte le faccende gravi, sollicitudine, et destrezza incredibile. Ma erano queste virtù avanzate di grande intervallo da vitii.'[114:1] Were benevolence the only virtue, no characters could be mixed, but would depend entirely on their degrees of benevolence. Upon the whole, I desire to take my catalogue of virtues from 'Cicero's Offices,' not from 'The Whole Duty of Man.' I had indeed the former book in my eye in all my reasonings.