From the fine arts, for these suppose it.
It must be from nature.
III. But to go on. Oratory, poetry, painting, and all the imitative arts, prove the reality of a moral sense: they suppose it, and could not have their agreeable effects upon us, were we not endued with it. If they suppose a sublimity, a beauty, an excellence, a greatness, an irresistable amiableness, in charactersa absolutely distinct from all the consequences of actions, with regard to profit or loss, advantage or disadvantage; then do they prove a moral sense, or that there are certain actions or characters which we cannot chuse but approve, love and admire; and others which we cannot chuse but disapprove, condemn and abhor, independently<120> of all other considerations, besides their lovely or vile forms, their charming and agreeable, or disagreeable and detestable appearances to the understanding. And shall we then, rather than acknowledge such a sense in our make, give up the foundation of all those delightful arts, to which we owe such noble entertainments? Or if we should be tempted so to do, is it not the utmost length we can go, to save our being forced to own a moral sense; to say, that though there be no real amiableness or deformity in moral acts, there is an imaginary one of full force, upon which these arts work? But what is this but to say, that though the thing itself cannot be allowed in nature, yet the imagination or fancy of it must be allowed to be from nature: for if there be such a fancy of full force in our nature that upon it can be raised such high admiration, warm affection, and transporting approbation by these arts; whence else can such fancy be, but from nature alone? It is easy to conceive, if the thing itself, or the imagination of it, be natural, how it comes about that nothing besides art and strong endeavour, with long practice, and much violent struggling, can overcome our natural prepossession or prevention in favour of this moral distinction, without which poetry or oratory would in vain attempt to interest our love and approbation, or excite our aversion and dislike by characters. But if it be not from nature, art must be able to create; it must be able to do more than operate upon subjects laid to its hand; it must be able to give existence to what nature knows nothing of, or hath laid no foundation for.
The absurdity of supposing it is not.
The imitative arts not only prove to us, that we have public affections; and that these regularly excited and wrought up to certain proper degrees, afford us very noble entertainment in the way of passion or feeling: but they likewise prove, that characters cannot be exhibited to our view without effectually<121> moving us; without deeply concerning us in their fates and fortunes; without exciting our warmest approbation, and keenest emulation. What else does all that is said of sublimities, greatness, beauty, dignity, and loveliness of sentiments, affections, actions, and characters mean? They are indeed words without meaning. And the effects they produce in our minds, what are they? In truth, any one who will but reflect how he is moved by a fine character in a poem, must own these arts are a demonstration, 1. That we are originally so constituted, as that from the moment we come to be tried with sensible objects, pity, love, kindness, generosity, and social affection are brought forth. But how could they be so, if they were not in our nature? Can any art educe from any subject qualities which it has not? 2. That we are so constituted, that the moment we come to be tried by rational objects, and receive unto our mind images or representations of justice, generosity, truth, magnanimity, or any other virtue, we are not able to remain indifferent toward them, but must approve and like them. And indeed it is impossible to imagine, a sensible creature so ill framed and unnatural, as that so soon as he is tried by proper objects, he should have no one good passion towards his kind: no foundation either of compassion, complacency, or kindly affection. And it is equally impossible to conceive a rational creature, coming first to be tried by moral species, or the representations of good and virtuous affections, should have no liking of them, or dislike of their contraries; but be found absolutely neutral, towards whatever is presented to them of that sort. “A soula indeed may as well be without sense as without admiration in the things of which it has any knowledge: coming<122> therefore to a capacity of seeing and admiring in the moral way, it must needs find a beauty and a deformity as well in actions, minds, and tempers, as in figures, sounds, or colours.” Let the philosophers, who are for resolving all our publick affections, and all our liking and disliking of actions and characters into certain subtle, nimble reflexions of self-love upon private interest, try whether they can thus account for the love, admiration, esteem and concern excited by a fictitious representation: but if they find the attempt vain here, must it not likewise be so in the original life, from which fictitious representation must be copied, in order to be natural? Sure there is not one nature for life, and another for fiction.
Without supposing or owning it, we must have recourse to very subtle reflexions (of which the mind is not conscious and for which it hath not time) to account for several phenomena; which is absurd.
IV. But who can consider human nature, and deny that we have public affections towards the good of others; or assert that all our passions spring from self-love and desire of private advantage; and that we have no moral sense. For take away a moral sense and public desires, how very small a share of our present excitements to action would remain with us? It is owned, that the affections called public, make indeed the greater part of our employments; or, that without them we would be almost reduced to absolute indolence. But when they are said not to be really social or public affections, but modes or arts of self-love, how are they accounted for?
We can no more be bribed to approve an action, than to assent to a proposition.
How are our natural affection to parents and offspring; our compassion to the distressed; our gratitude, our benevolence; or whatever, in one word, hath the appearance of social in our frame, or of affection to public good: how are they reduced to self-love, but by supposing us, when the objects, which excite these affections are represented to us, immediately to make some very cunning reflexions upon self-interest rea or private good, which<123> there is neither time for, nor are we conscious of? And can we think that to be true philosophy, or a just account of human nature, which is forced to have recourse to the supposition of many refined subtle reasonings on every occasion, in every honest farmer or peasant? That one consideration is sufficient to refute it, and to shew it to be false and unnatural. But what puts the reality of public affections in our nature, the immediate object of which is the good of others, and of a moral sense by which we are necessarily determined to approve such affections, beyond all doubt, is, that whatever motives there may be from the side of pleasure or interest, by which we may be bribed to do an action; yet we cannot possibly be bribed to approve it contrary to our inward sense: or whatever motives of fear there may be to terrify us from doing an action, yet we cannot be terrified into the approbation of the omission, if it be not really approveable. If a moral sense be owned, the reality of public affections in our nature will be acknowledged; for it is only about actions proceeding from public affections, that there is any dispute as to our determination to approve or disapprove: but if we have no moral sense, agreeably to which we must approve, and contrary to which we cannot approve or disapprove; whence comes it about, that though we may be allured, or frighted