Like moral approval, gratitude may be called forth not only by acts and volitions, but by absence of volitions, in so far as this absence is traceable to a good disposition of will. And, like the moral judge, the grateful man is, in his retributive feeling, influenced by the notion he forms of the benefactor's character.

The cognitions by which non-moral resentment and gratitude are determined are thus, as regards their general nature, precisely similar to those which determine moral indignation and approval. Whether moral or non-moral, a retributive emotion is essentially directed towards a sensitive and volitional entity, or self, conceived of as the cause of pleasure or the cause of pain. This solves a problem which necessarily baffles solution in the hands of those who fail to recognise the emotional origin of moral judgments, and which, when considered at all, has, I think, never been fully understood by those who have essayed it. It has、. been argued, for instance, that moral praise and blame are not applied to inanimate things and those who commit involuntary deeds, because they are administered only "where they are capable of producing some effect";' that moral judgment is concerned with the question of compulsion, because only when a man acts morally of his own free will is society sure of him "; that we do not regard a lunatic as responsible, because we know that "his mind is so diseased that it is impossible by moral reprobation alone to change his character so that it may be subsequently relied upon. The bestowal of moral praise or blame on such or such an object is thus attributed to utilitarian calculation; whereas in reality it is determined by the nature of the moral emotion which lies at the bottom of the judgment. And, as Stuart Mill observes (though he never seems to have realised the full import of his objection), whilst we may administer praise and blame with the express design of influencing conduct, "no anticipation of salutary effects

2

1 James Mill, Fragment on Mackintosh, p. 370.

2

Ziegler, Social Ethics, p. 56 sq.

3 Clifford, Lectures and Essays, p. 296. See also James Mill, op. cit. pp. 261, 262, 375.

from our feeling will ever avail to give us the feeling itself." 1

The nature of the moral emotions also gives us the key to another important problem-a problem which has called forth endless controversies-namely, the co-existence of moral responsibility with the general law of cause and effect. It has been argued that responsibility, and moral' judgments generally, are inconsistent with the notion that the human will is determined by causes; that "either freewill is a fact, or moral judgment a delusion." The argument has been well summed up by Sir Leslie Stephen as follows:-"Moral responsibility, it is said, implies freedom. A man is only responsible for that which he causes. Now the causa causa is also the causa causati. If I am caused as well as cause, the cause of me is the cause of my conduct; I am only a passive link in the chain which transmits the force. Thus, as each individual is the product of something external to himself, his responsibility is really shifted to that something. The universe or the first cause is alone responsible, and since it is responsible to itself alone, responsibility becomes a mere illusion." We are told that, if determinism were true, human beings would be no more proper subjects of moral valuation than are inanimate things; that the application of moral praise and blame would be "in itself as absurd as to applaud the sunrise or be angry at the rain"; that the only admiration which the virtuous man might deserve would be the kind of admiration "which we justly accord to a well-made machine." Nor are these inferences from the doctrine of determinism only weapons forged by its opponents; they are shared by many of its own adherents. Richard Owen and his followers maintained that, since a man's character is made for him, not by him, there is no justice in punishing

1 Stuart Mill, in a note to James Mill's Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind, ii. 323.

2 Leslie Stephen, Science of Ethics, p. 285.

3 Martineau, Types of Ethical Theory, ii. 41 sq.

25.

Balfour, Foundations of Belief, p.

him for what he cannot help.1 To Stuart Mill responsibility simply means liability to punishment, inflicted for a utilitarian purpose. So also Prof. Sidgwick-whose attitude towards the free-will theory is that of a scepticargues that the common retributive view of punishment, and the ordinary notions of "merit," "demerit," and "responsibility," involve the assumption that the will is free, and that these terms, if used at all, have to be used in new significations. "If the wrong act," he says, "and the bad qualities of character manifested in it, are conceived as the necessary effects of causes antecedent or external to the existence of the agent, the moral responsibility-in the ordinary sense-for the mischief caused by them can no longer rest on him. At the same time, the Determinist can give to the terms ill-desert' and 'responsibility' a signification which is not only clear and definite, but, from an utilitarian point of view, the only suitable meaning. In this view, if I affirm that A is responsible for a harmful act, I mean that it is right to punish him for it; primarily, in order that the fear of punishment may prevent him and others from committing similar acts in future." 3

If these conclusions are correct it is obvious that, whether the infliction of punishment be justifiable or not,' the feeling of moral indignation or moral approval is, from ' the deterministic point of view, absurd. And yet, as a, matter of fact, these emotions are felt by determinists and libertarians alike. Apparently, they are not in the least affected by the notion that the human will is subject to the general law of cause and effect. Emotions are always determined by specific cognitions, and last only as long as the influence of those cognitions lasts. It makes me sorry to hear that some evil has befallen a friend; but my sorrow disappears at once when I find that the rumour was false. I get angry with a person who hurts me; but my anger subsides as soon as I recognise that the hurt was purely accidental. My indignation is aroused by an 2 Ibid. p. 506 sqq.

1 Stuart Mill, Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy, p. 506.

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3 Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics, p. 71 sq.

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atrocious crime; but it ceases entirely when I hear that the agent was mad. On the other hand, however convinced I am that a person's conduct and character are in every detail a product of causes, that does not prevent me from feeling towards him retributive emotions-either anger or gratitude, or moral resentment or approval. Hence I conclude that a retributive emotion is not essentially determined by the cognition of free-will. I hold that Spinoza is mistaken in his assumption that men feel more love or hatred towards one another than towards anything else, because they think themselves to be free.' And I attribute the conception that moral valuation is inconsistent with determinism either to a failure to recognise the emotional origin of moral judgments or to insufficient insight into the true nature of the moral emotions. At the same time it seems easy to explain the fallacy which lies at the bottom of that conception.

We have seen that the object of moral approval and disapproval is the will, and that a person's responsibility is lessened in proportion as his will is exposed to the pressure of non-volitional conations. Full responsibility thus presupposes freedom from such pressure, and, particularly, freedom from external compulsion. Hence the inference that it also presupposes freedom from causation, and that complete determination involves complete irresponsibility. Compulsion is confounded with causation; and this confusion is due to the fact that the cause which determines the will is actually looked upon in the light of a constraining power outside the will.

The popular mind has a strong belief in the law of cause and effect. When reflecting on the matter, it admits that everything which happens in this world has a cause; and if the natural cause is hidden, it readily calls in a supernatural cause to account for the event. Now, in the case of human volitions the chain of causation is often particularly obscure; as Spinoza said, whilst men are conscious of their volitions and desires, they "never even 1 Spinoza, Ethica, iii. 49, Note.

dream, in their ignorance, of the causes which have disposed them so to wish and desire." 1 Hence, when in a philosophic mood, they are liable to attribute their acts to the influence of an external power ruling over human affairs, a god or an all-powerful fate. No doubt, Providence and Fate 2 may effect their purposes without the will of man as their tool; what happens "by chance," being frequently no less wonderful than any decree of a human will, may likewise be traced to a supernatural cause. But, on the other hand, the fact that the deeds of men are generally preceded by volitions, is so obvious that it could not escape even the simplest mind-indeed, so strongly are primitive men impressed by this fact that they are apt to attribute every event to a will. Acknowledging, then, the connec tion between volition and deed, the fatalist regards the former only as an instrument in the hands of a force outside the agent, which compels his will to execute its plans. Sometimes it reaches its goal in a way quite unforeseen by the agent himself. Muhammed said, "When God hath ordered a creature to die in any particular place, He causeth his wants to direct him to that place "; and it is a popular saying throughout Islam that "whenas Destiny descends she blindeth human sight." Sometimes the external power causes its victim to will its decree, by exciting in him some irresistible passion, as when Zeus urged Clytemnestra to the slaughter of Agamemnon; or the volitions. of a person are themselves regarded as decreed by that power. In Warend, in Sweden, when somebody has killed another, as also when the manslayer himself suffers the penalty of death, the women say, full of compassion, "Well, this was his destiny, to be sure," or, "Poor fellow, it was a pitiful fate." 5 In one of the Pahlavi texts the following words are put into the mouth of the Spirit of

1 Ibid. pt. i. Appendix.

2 In a Pallavi text fate is defined as "that which is ordained from the beginning," and divine providence as that which the sacred beings "also grant otherwise" (Dînâ-i Maînôg-i Khirad, xxiv. 6 sq.).

"4

3

3 Lane, Arabian Society in the Middle Ages, p. 6.

Burton, in his translation of the Arabian Nights, i. 62, n 2.

5 Hyltén-Cavallius, Wärend och Wirdarne, i. 206.