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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 [113]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 qui,'[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 sagacit singulare: consiglio eccellente, efficacia a [114]persuadere maravigliosa, et a tutte le faccende gravi, sollicitudine, et destrezza incredibile. Ma erano queste virt 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.
"I have many other reflections to communicate to you; but it would be troublesome. I shall therefore conclude with telling you, that I intend to follow your advice in altering most of those passages you have remarked as defective in point of prudence; though, I must own, I think you a little too delicate. Except a man be in orders, or be immediately concerned in the instruction of youth, I do not think his character depends upon his philosophical speculations, as the world is now modelled; and a little liberty seems requisite to bring into the public notice a book that is calculated for few readers. I hope you will allow me the freedom of consulting you when I am in any difficulty, and believe me," &c.
"P.S.—I cannot forbear recommending another thing to your consideration. Actions are not virtuous nor vicious, but only so far as they are proofs of certain qualities or durable principles in the mind. This is a point I should have established more expressly than I have done. Now, I desire you to consider if [115]there be any quality that is virtuous, without having a tendency either to the public good or to the good of the person who possesses it. If there be none without these tendencies, we may conclude that their merit is derived from sympathy. I desire you would only consider the tendencies of qualities, not their actual operations, which depend on chance. Brutus riveted the chains of Rome faster by his opposition; but the natural tendency of his noble dispositions—his public spirit and magnanimity—was to establish her liberty.
"You are a great admirer of Cicero as well as I am. Please to review the fourth book De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum: where you find him prove against the Stoics, that if there be no other goods but virtue, 'tis impossible there can be any virtue, because the mind would then want all motives to begin its actions upon; and 'tis on the goodness or badness of the motives that the virtue of the action depends. This proves, that to every virtuous action there must be a motive or impelling passion distinct from the virtue, and that virtue can never be the sole motive to any action. You do not assent to this: though I think there is no proposition more certain or important. I must own my proofs were not distinct enough and must be altered. You see with what reluctance I part with you, though I believe it is time I should ask your pardon for so much trouble."
In the mean time we find Hume anxious to be employed in the capacity of a travelling governor or tutor, and writing to Mr. George Carre of Nisbet, intimating his readiness to officiate to that gentleman's cousins, Lord Haddington and Mr. Baillie, if there are no favoured candidates for the situation. There [116]is nothing in the letter to excite much interest.[116:1] He says, he hears the young gentlemen are proposing to travel; observes that he has the honour to be their relation, "which gives a governor a better air in attending his pupils," and that he has some leisure time. In his letter to a physician, in the preceding chapter, we find him mentioning this office as one of the few to which his prospects were limited, and, at the same time, as one for which his knowledge of the world scarcely fitted him. His six years' farther experience of life had perhaps in his own opinion provided him with opportunities of better qualifying himself for the duties of this office. It was held by many able and accomplished men at that time, and appears to have been the profession of his friend Michael Ramsay. There are no traces of the manner in which his application was received.
