In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 33.1 (2000) 74-93 [Access article in PDF] "Lord Over the Children of Pride": The Vaine-Glorious Rhetoric of Hobbes's Leviathan Haig Patapan Hobbes claimed in the Leviathan that he had, by "industrious meditation," discovered the Principles of Reason that would allow Commonwealths to be everlasting. He claimed, in other words, to have solved the political problem (1968, chap. 30, 378). All that was now required was (...) to have his work "fall in the hands of a Soveraign" who would, "in protecting the Publique teaching of it, convert this Truth of Speculation, into Utility of Practice" (chap. 31, 408). Accordingly, an important element of his political solution was the Leviathan itself, a work that would instruct the people in the Essential Rights of Sovereignty (chap. 30, 379). It would seem, then, that the Leviathan is an essential combination of these two aspects of Hobbes's endeavour; it is a work that is intended to reveal and persuade. Therefore, it is appropriate to evaluate his undertaking, not only in terms of its teaching, but also in the success of its rhetorical ambition. 1I argue in this paper that Hobbesian rhetoric is fundamentally determined by his political theory, in particular, by his discovery of the problem of vaine-glory, or pride. Pride poses a political problem because it is a passion that produces an unrealistic estimation of our abilities and therefore ultimately leads to deadly struggles and war. Hobbesian political science attempts to overcome the problem of pride by instituting a Leviathan, a lord over the children of pride. Once we see the nature of the political problem as Hobbes presents it and his proposed solution, the rhetorical character of Hobbes's writings becomes clearer.The extent to which Hobbes relies upon, and in crucial respects departs from, the traditional rhetoric that drew upon Artistotle's Rhetoric and subsequently Cicero's De Inventione and Quintilan's Institutio Oratoria is a complex question. 2 In this paper, I explore the rhetoric of the Leviathan, especially its first part, "On Man," to distinguish the Aristotelian and Ciceronian tradition from what I call Hobbes's Euclidean rhetoric. More [End Page 74] specifically, I argue that the structure and movement of part 1 of the Leviathan can be better understood when it is seen as a direct assault on human pride, a stripping away of all claims that may lead to vaine-glory. It is a step-by-step, Euclidean reductio that attempts to curb the readers' passion of glorying. This argument about the rhetorical character of the first part of the Leviathan has important theoretical consequences: it suggests that Hobbes's influential formulation of power, rights, and justice also had a profoundly rhetorical character.But how persuasive is Hobbes's rhetoric? For reasons noted above, this question goes to the heart of his political theory. The final part of this paper explores the efficacy of the Hobbesian rhetoric of pride and therefore of Hobbesian science. I argue that the rhetorical descent in the first part of the Leviathan, where the truth about human weakness is revealed to the proud, is simultaneously an ascent that acknowledges independence and self-sufficiency of human beings as "self-makers." Thus I argue that, rather than overcoming the problem of pride, Hobbesian political science re-founds it on the bases of rights and the promise of unlimited progress through science and commerce: Hobbes's rhetoric reformulated, but did not solve, the problem of pride. The problem of pride The importance of pride for Hobbes's psychology and political theory is evident from the title and frontispiece of the Leviathan. 3 The Leviathan, according to the Old Testament, is a creature of the Lord, set over the children of pride (Job 41:34). In Hobbes's reformulation, the Leviathan is an artificial body, made by the "Art of man," whose business is Salus Populi or the peoples' safety (1968, "Introduction," 81). Thus, from the beginning, the revolutionary flavour of Hobbes's enterprise is made evident: Man replaces God; pride is a problem of safety... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 33.1 (2000) 74-93 [Access article in PDF] "Lord Over the Children of Pride": The Vaine-Glorious Rhetoric of Hobbes's Leviathan Haig Patapan Hobbes claimed in the Leviathan that he had, by "industrious meditation," discovered the Principles of Reason that would allow Commonwealths to be everlasting. He claimed, in other words, to have solved the political problem (1968, chap. 30, 378). All that was now required was (...) to have his work "fall in the hands of a Soveraign" who would, "in protecting the Publique teaching of it, convert this Truth of Speculation, into Utility of Practice" (chap. 31, 408). Accordingly, an important element of his political solution was the Leviathan itself, a work that would instruct the people in the Essential Rights of Sovereignty (chap. 30, 379). It would seem, then, that the Leviathan is an essential combination of these two aspects of Hobbes's endeavour; it is a work that is intended to reveal and persuade. Therefore, it is appropriate to evaluate his undertaking, not only in terms of its teaching, but also in the success of its rhetorical ambition. 1I argue in this paper that Hobbesian rhetoric is fundamentally determined by his political theory, in particular, by his discovery of the problem of vaine-glory, or pride. Pride poses a political problem because it is a passion that produces an unrealistic estimation of our abilities and therefore ultimately leads to deadly struggles and war. Hobbesian political science attempts to overcome the problem of pride by instituting a Leviathan, a lord over the children of pride. Once we see the nature of the political problem as Hobbes presents it and his proposed solution, the rhetorical character of Hobbes's writings becomes clearer.The extent to which Hobbes relies upon, and in crucial respects departs from, the traditional rhetoric that drew upon Artistotle's Rhetoric and subsequently Cicero's De Inventione and Quintilan's Institutio Oratoria is a complex question. 2 In this paper, I explore the rhetoric of the Leviathan, especially its first part, "On Man," to distinguish the Aristotelian and Ciceronian tradition from what I call Hobbes's Euclidean rhetoric. More [End Page 74] specifically, I argue that the structure and movement of part 1 of the Leviathan can be better understood when it is seen as a direct assault on human pride, a stripping away of all claims that may lead to vaine-glory. It is a step-by-step, Euclidean reductio that attempts to curb the readers' passion of glorying. This argument about the rhetorical character of the first part of the Leviathan has important theoretical consequences: it suggests that Hobbes's influential formulation of power, rights, and justice also had a profoundly rhetorical character.But how persuasive is Hobbes's rhetoric? For reasons noted above, this question goes to the heart of his political theory. The final part of this paper explores the efficacy of the Hobbesian rhetoric of pride and therefore of Hobbesian science. I argue that the rhetorical descent in the first part of the Leviathan, where the truth about human weakness is revealed to the proud, is simultaneously an ascent that acknowledges independence and self-sufficiency of human beings as "self-makers." Thus I argue that, rather than overcoming the problem of pride, Hobbesian political science re-founds it on the bases of rights and the promise of unlimited progress through science and commerce: Hobbes's rhetoric reformulated, but did not solve, the problem of pride. The problem of pride The importance of pride for Hobbes's psychology and political theory is evident from the title and frontispiece of the Leviathan. 3 The Leviathan, according to the Old Testament, is a creature of the Lord, set over the children of pride (Job 41:34). In Hobbes's reformulation, the Leviathan is an artificial body, made by the "Art of man," whose business is Salus Populi or the peoples' safety (1968, "Introduction," 81). Thus, from the beginning, the revolutionary flavour of Hobbes's enterprise is made evident: Man replaces God; pride is a problem of safety... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 33.1 (2000) 74-93 [Access article in PDF] "Lord Over the Children of Pride": The Vaine-Glorious Rhetoric of Hobbes's Leviathan Haig Patapan Hobbes claimed in the Leviathan that he had, by "industrious meditation," discovered the Principles of Reason that would allow Commonwealths to be everlasting. He claimed, in other words, to have solved the political problem (1968, chap. 30, 378). All that was now required was (...) to have his work "fall in the hands of a Soveraign" who would, "in protecting the Publique teaching of it, convert this Truth of Speculation, into Utility of Practice" (chap. 31, 408). Accordingly, an important element of his political solution was the Leviathan itself, a work that would instruct the people in the Essential Rights of Sovereignty (chap. 30, 379). It would seem, then, that the Leviathan is an essential combination of these two aspects of Hobbes's endeavour; it is a work that is intended to reveal and persuade. Therefore, it is appropriate to evaluate his undertaking, not only in terms of its teaching, but also in the success of its rhetorical ambition. 1I argue in this paper that Hobbesian rhetoric is fundamentally determined by his political theory, in particular, by his discovery of the problem of vaine-glory, or pride. Pride poses a political problem because it is a passion that produces an unrealistic estimation of our abilities and therefore ultimately leads to deadly struggles and war. Hobbesian political science attempts to overcome the problem of pride by instituting a Leviathan, a lord over the children of pride. Once we see the nature of the political problem as Hobbes presents it and his proposed solution, the rhetorical character of Hobbes's writings becomes clearer.The extent to which Hobbes relies upon, and in crucial respects departs from, the traditional rhetoric that drew upon Artistotle's Rhetoric and subsequently Cicero's De Inventione and Quintilan's Institutio Oratoria is a complex question. 2 In this paper, I explore the rhetoric of the Leviathan, especially its first part, "On Man," to distinguish the Aristotelian and Ciceronian tradition from what I call Hobbes's Euclidean rhetoric. More [End Page 74] specifically, I argue that the structure and movement of part 1 of the Leviathan can be better understood when it is seen as a direct assault on human pride, a stripping away of all claims that may lead to vaine-glory. It is a step-by-step, Euclidean reductio that attempts to curb the readers' passion of glorying. This argument about the rhetorical character of the first part of the Leviathan has important theoretical consequences: it suggests that Hobbes's influential formulation of power, rights, and justice also had a profoundly rhetorical character.But how persuasive is Hobbes's rhetoric? For reasons noted above, this question goes to the heart of his political theory. The final part of this paper explores the efficacy of the Hobbesian rhetoric of pride and therefore of Hobbesian science. I argue that the rhetorical descent in the first part of the Leviathan, where the truth about human weakness is revealed to the proud, is simultaneously an ascent that acknowledges independence and self-sufficiency of human beings as "self-makers." Thus I argue that, rather than overcoming the problem of pride, Hobbesian political science re-founds it on the bases of rights and the promise of unlimited progress through science and commerce: Hobbes's rhetoric reformulated, but did not solve, the problem of pride. The problem of pride The importance of pride for Hobbes's psychology and political theory is evident from the title and frontispiece of the Leviathan. 3 The Leviathan, according to the Old Testament, is a creature of the Lord, set over the children of pride (Job 41:34). In Hobbes's reformulation, the Leviathan is an artificial body, made by the "Art of man," whose business is Salus Populi or the peoples' safety (1968, "Introduction," 81). Thus, from the beginning, the revolutionary flavour of Hobbes's enterprise is made evident: Man replaces God; pride is a problem of safety... (shrink)

My comments on Jacqueline Taylor's rich and interesting study1 will focus on a theme which I found particularly thought provoking: the discussion of Hume's treatment of pride. I think the topic of pride is central to the book's structure—closely integrated with the recurring consideration of what is distinctive in Hume's approach to the social significance of the passions.I am going to come at this theme indirectly—through consideration of the differences between Hume and Spinoza on the nature and significance (...) of pride. Taylor shows that Hume has made it possible for pride to be considered as a positive trait, perhaps even as a virtue. Spinoza's attitude to pride in the Ethics is, in contrast, quite negative. The... (shrink)

This article reconstructs Bernard Mandeville’s pride-centred theory of recognition and advances two main arguments. First, I maintain that Mandeville really did regard pride as a vice and took the prevalence of this passion as evidence of our morally compromised nature. Mandeville’s account of pride may have been indebted to French neo-Augustinian moralists, yet I show that the moral connotations he associated with the passion are based on a naturalistic analysis of our moral psychology and do (...) not depend upon endorsing any theological assumptions about our fallen condition. Second, I offer a qualified defence of Mandeville’s pride-centred theory against other eighteenth-century philosophers – Archibald Campbell, David Hume and Adam Smith – who presented the desire for social esteem in a more positive light. Even if there is nothing troubling about a moderate and well-regulated desire for esteem, I suggest that Mandeville’s analysis remains deeply unsettling in so far as it reveals the extent of pride behind our desire for recognition. (shrink)

Abstract:Hume’s theory of pride has been dismissed due to the contingent relation between passion and object. But why did Hume state the theory as he did? Why did he give two accounts of pride, one holistic and one atomistic? This paper considers Hume’s reasons for giving two accounts, and how he unified them. The holistic account enables Hume to explain how moral distinctions are made, whereas the atomistic allows him to anchor morality in human nature. The accounts (...) are unified by the distinction of feeling pride and being proud: a steady passion of pride would not count as that if it did not contain feelings of pride identified by their introspective quality, and would not be a state of pride without the causal relation of ideas. (shrink)

Hume’s account of how the self enters the moral domain and comes to a consciousness of itself as a moral being is one which he superimposes upon his Treatise account of the constitution of the non-metaphysical self. This primordial self is for Hume constructed out of the passions of pride and humility which are themselves in tum constructed out of certain feelings of pain and pleasure, these feelings being worked on by memory and imagination, and converted back and forth (...) into series of ideas and impressions. In presenting this account of the way in which we achieve a coherent self-awareness and self-knowledge such that we ‘know our own force’, Hurne in fact employs a radical psychology which he must discard once the moral self comes into view. The use Hume makes of this psychology has gone unnoticed in the literature, but once we understand its implications we will be able to dispel the confusion that some have found in his story. (shrink)

In the Treatise, Hume focuses on pride as an “indirect passion,” one indicative of self-valuing and moral virtue and contributing positively to our sense of who we are and, in particular, to our moral identity. This essay examines those features of pride that make Hume’s account of the indirect passions so distinctive, beginning with an examination of his application of the experimental method to explain the origin of the indirect passions and the double relation of ideas and (...) impressions as the efficient causes of these passions. Also examined is the relationship Hume draws between the principle of sympathy, pride, and the causes of pride; the relations among pride in virtuous character, moral confidence and, competence; and Hume’s account of pride in the Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals. Finally, the author considers the view of Humean moral agency as heteronomous in nature. (shrink)

In chapter 1, I argue that Hume well understands the experimental method and its role as what Geoffrey Cantor refers to as "a discourse of power," insofar as establishing facts in terms of efficient causation properly delimits what counts as a science, which is, in Hume's case, a science of human nature. With respect to the passions, I focus on parts 1 and 2 of Treatise Book 2, as an extended set of experiments meant to explain the origin, nature, and (...) effects of the passion of pride, an indirect passion that reflects a person's self-worth in virtue of her valuable qualities. Beginning with the observable phenomena of pride, Hume identifies various theoretical entities that constitute aspects of the cause and effect... (shrink)

The place of the emotions among the passions -- The analytic of the emotions I -- The analytic of the emotions II -- The dialectic of the emotions -- Pride, arrogance, and humility -- Shame, embarrassment, and guilt -- Envy -- Jealousy -- Anger -- Love -- Friendship -- Sympathy and empathy.

In Till We Have Faces, C. S. Lewis combines his passion for pagan mythology with his knack for communicating Christian truths via story, powerfully illustrating a number of theological and moral positions that are prominent in many of his other writings. This article examines two major themes in TWHF that are also emphasized heavily within Lewis’s prose: maintaining faith in the face of various emotionally-driven temptations to doubt; and recognizing that pride prevents us from knowing God and corrupts (...) the love we have for others into a jealous hatred. The article uncovers a variety of ways that Lewis masterfully paints a picture via the characters and the story of TWHF that exemplifies religious and ethical insights within these two themes. (shrink)

When Oxford published Emotion and Adaptation, the landmark 1991 book on the psychology of emotion by internationally acclaimed stress and coping expert Richard Lazarus, Contemporary Psychology welcomed it as "a brightly shining star in the galaxy of such volumes." Psychiatrists, psychologists and researchers hailed it as a masterpiece, a major breakthrough in our understanding of the emotional process and its central role in our adaptation as individuals and as a species. What was still needed, however, was a book for general (...) readers and health care practitioners that would dispel the myths still surrounding cultural beliefs about emotion and systematically explain the relevance of the new research to the emotional dramas of our everyday lives.Now, in Passion and Reason, Lazarus draws on his four decades of pioneering research to bring readers the first book to move beyond both clinical jargon and "feel-good" popular psychology to really explain, in plain, accessible language, how emotions are aroused, how they are managed, and how they critically shape our views of ourselves and the world around us. With his co-author writer Bernice Lazarus, Dr. Lazarus explores the latest findings on the short and long-term causes and effects of various emotions, including the often conflicting research on stress management and links between negative emotions and heart disease, cancer, and other aspects of physical and psychological health. Lazarus makes a strong case that contrary to common assumption, emotions are not irrational--our emotions and our analytical thought processes are inextricably linked.While not a "how-to" book, Passion and Reason does describe how readers can interpret what lies behind their own emotions and those of their families, friends, and co-workers, and how to manage them more effectively. Exploring fifteen emotions in depth, from love to jealousy, the authors show how the personal meaning we give to the events and conditions of our lives trigger such emotions as anger, anxiety, guilt, and pride. They provide fascinating vignettes to frame a "biography" of each emotion. Some are composite case histories drawn from Dr. Lazarus's long career, but most are stories of people the Lazaruses have known over the years--people whose emotional fears, conflicts, and desires mirror readers' own. The Lazaruses also offer a special chapter on the diverse strategies of coping people use in managing their emotions, and another, "When Coping Fails," on psychotherapy and its approaches to emotional stress and dysfunction, from traditional Freudian psychoanalysis to continuing research into relaxation techniques, meditation, hypnosis, and biofeedback.Packed with insight and compellingly readable, Passion and Reason will enrich all readers fascinated by our emotional lives. (shrink)

This paper examines the perceived ethics of advertisers and the general public relative to three ethical concepts. Based on the survey findings, it can be concluded that with regard to the ethically-laden concepts of manipulation, exploitation, and deviousness, advertisers are perceptually as ethical as the general public. The research also clarifies some of the differences between ethics and Machiavellianism.

Love and pride are passions related to ideas of entities capable of well-being. In the case of love, those entities are people we are related to, whose characters, qualities or traits we admire; pride, by its turn, is a passion related to the self. In spite of that, Hume is explicit in stating that love is naturally attended by a desire for the goodness and happiness of the beloved being; but it does not make sense to say (...) that we desire our own happiness and well-being because we are proud of ourselves. How can we explain this asymmetry? First, I will deal with the problem of the contrast between the unrelatedness of the emotion of pride and the desire of our own happiness and the relatedness of passion of love and the desire of happiness of the beloved person. After, I will link the conclusions reached with Hume’s famous claim that we cannot be happy in solitude. Our own happiness depends not only on our own well-being and success, but also on the well-being and happiness of the people we love, and both of which are related to the well functioning of society in the long run. (shrink)

Book II of the Treatise minutely anatomizes the passions Hume dubbed “indirect.” As the account of pride, humility, love, and hatred unfolds, principles are uncovered, causes are exhaustively examined, experiments carried out, difficulties presented and solved. The barrage of detailed description and theorizing threatens to overwhelm even the most devoted of readers. By contrast, Hume’s explicit treatment of the direct passions appears perfunctory. Indeed, Hume states: “None of the direct affections seem to merit our particular attention except hope and (...) fear.” Desire and aversion, though usually mentioned first as examples of the direct passions, receive no separate analysis. (shrink)

The present article is an edition of the Pathologia (1706), a Latin manuscript on the passions by Anthony Ashley Cooper, the third Earl of Shaftesbury (1671–1713). There are two parts, i) an introduction with commentary (http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/01916599.2012.679795), and ii) an edition of the Latin text with an English translation (http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/01916599.2012.679796) . The Pathologia treats of a series of topics concerning moral psychology, ethics and philology, presenting a reconstruction of the Stoic theory of the emotions that is closely modelled on Cicero and (...) Diogenes Lærtius. It contains a most detailed typology of the passions and affections as well as an analysis of a series of psychological connections, for example between admiration and pride. On the basis of his reconstruction of Stoic moral psychology and ethics, Shaftesbury argues that in one of his phases, Horace should be interpreted as a Stoic rather than as an Epicurean. The translation and the commentary draw attention to the relations between the Pathologia and Shaftesbury's English writings, most importantly Miscellaneous Reflections and the Inquiry Concerning Virtue, or Merit, which sheds light on several features of Shaftesbury's relation to Stoicism. (shrink)

Pride is a fundamental element in Hume's description of human nature. An important part of the secondary literature on Hume is devoted to this passion. However, no one, as far as I am aware, takes seriously the fact that pride often appears in pairs with vanity. In Book 2 of the Treatise, pride is defined as the passion one feels when society recognizes his connection to a ‘cause’, composed by a ‘subject’ and a (positive) ‘quality’. (...) Conversely, no definition of vanity is provided. Despite Hume's fluctuating vocabulary, I hold that a conceptual difference between pride and vanity exists. To support this claim, I analyse the common features of these two passions, showing that both pride and vanity (a) are indirect passions, (b) are self-regarding passions, and (c) have the same structure. Supported by textual evidence, I then claim that vanity is a desire of reputation, a desire to feel pride, when pride is not (yet) in place, because its cause is only imaginary and not real. Nonetheless, I underscore that, at times, ‘vanity’ means simply pride and call for greater attention on this ongoing oscillation. In conclusion, I explore the implications of this account of vanity for social interactions in Hume's philosophy, which illustrates its intrinsic ambivalence. (shrink)

Book II of the Treatise minutely anatomizes the passions Hume dubbed “indirect.” As the account of pride, humility, love, and hatred unfolds, principles are uncovered, causes are exhaustively examined, experiments carried out, difficulties presented and solved. The barrage of detailed description and theorizing threatens to overwhelm even the most devoted of readers. By contrast, Hume’s explicit treatment of the direct passions appears perfunctory. Indeed, Hume states: “None of the direct affections seem to merit our particular attention except hope and (...) fear.” Desire and aversion, though usually mentioned first as examples of the direct passions, receive no separate analysis. (shrink)

This chapter argues that Hume's views on the nature and sources of virtue are pluralistic. He has a pluralistic account of the sources of the moral sentiment, the taxonomy of virtue, and most importantly, the criteria of virtue. The chapter also argues that his views are neither utilitarian in particular nor consequentialist in general, but comprise overlooked but significant non‐consequentialist features, gleaned particularly from Book II of the Treatise (Of the Passions), and which are characteristic of virtue ethics in general. (...) It is devoted to investigating the status of (C2) as an independent criterion of virtue. The chapter discusses three broad categories of “species” or “appearance” which make a trait “naturally fitted” to be regarded as a virtue. Discussions also include indirect passion of pride. The connection between love of truth and hope for success brings us to the virtue cluster associated with the direct passion of hope. (shrink)

Each person should have their pride – a proper sense of their worth and dignity. Improper pride is arrogance; proper pride, one might say, is necessary for self‐respect. As an emotion, pride may take the form of a momentary emotional occurrence, as when, for example, one is complimented by people whose approval one appreciates on some achievement of one's own, of one's spouse, or of one's children. Pride may also take the form of a persistent, (...) enduring, emotion, as when one feels proud of one's beauty and figure, or of the good looks of one's spouse or children; of one's achievements; of some admirable possession one owns; of one's dog or horse; and of one's high rank and office. Christian theologians have taken certain forms of pride to be contraries, the former a deadly vice and the latter a virtue. Hume too took pride and humility to be contraries. (shrink)

Augustine’s theory of first movements has provoked many controversies over the years. When discussing Augustine’s position in preliminary passions, some scholars maintain that he misunderstands the Stoics, whereas some others argue that he grasps their works rather well and his accounts are consistent with Stoic teaching. This article examines how Augustine transforms his predecessors’ conception of first movements into his own theory, with particular focus on whether Augustine misinterprets his predecessor’s doctrine in his approach. The first section introduces the recent (...) disputations on Augustine’s misunderstanding of the Stoic concept of the first movements. The second section compares Augustine’s opinions in his early, middle, and late writings to determine whether changes occur in his interpretation. Based on the above observations, this essay argues that Augustine is familiar with the Stoic doctrines, but in his later works, he ‘deliberately’ deviates from their concept of the first movements in order to refute their ‘pride’ and to defend his Christian position on the psychology of preliminary passions. These deliberate new changes of terms by Augustine do not derive from a misunderstanding, but rather follow from his attempt at constructing a new dynamic theological framework of addressing passions during his later thought. The article concludes with a third section that revisits the modern critiques and responds with a consideration of the significance of Augustine’s views on preliminary passions. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume and Davidson on Pride Pall S. krdal In reading the Treatise one has to be alive to the fact that Hume gives certain crucial words new meanings. He does not always draw the reader's attention to this and sometimes explicitly claims to be using terms with their ordinarymeaningswhen heis clearlygiving the words special technical uses by expanding or contracting their usual meanings. "Passion," "love," "hatred," " (...) class='Hi'>pride," and "humility" have special meanings in Hume's psychological scheme. He also sometimes uses important terms with more than one meaning, as in the case of "justice." The word "justice" both is the title of Book 3, Part 2 of the Treatise, which deals with a number ofartificial virtues, and alsorefers to the much narrower concept ofthe respectfor property. The following two questions should be borne in mind: "What did Hume have to say about what he calls justice, passion, love, etc.?" and "What did Hume have to say about what we refer to by the same terms?" Thus, Books 2 and 3 of the Treatise may be described as attempting to show how unbiased evaluations are possible, in spite ofthe fact that our passions are naturally biased and judgments of virtue and vice are passions. This clearly involves a discussion of how we can do justice to our own and other peoples' qualities ofmind or character. Hume, therefore, had something very important to say about what we call justice, but his contribution to issues involving what we call justice today is obscured by his terminology. In what follows I shall be claiming that Hume's account of pride throws light upon what we call pride although he clearly was not aiming to do so. Donald Davidson, in a footnote to "Hume's Cognitive Theory of Pride," points out that there is a close similarity between his reading ofHume on pride andmy own treatment ofprideinPassionand Value. Since the two accounts were arrived at completely independently, each ofus can see the other'sinterpretation as some confirmation ofhis own. The accounts are not identical, however, and without aiming at a comprehensive comparison, I shall attempt to decide whether one or two ofthe apparent differences between our accounts indicate substantial disagreement. I shall try not to confuse the following four questions: "What did Hume thinkconstitutes pride?""Whatlesson do I, and whatlesson does Davidson think one could learn from Hume's account?" and finally, "What constitutes pride?" Davidson and I agree that a lesson is to be Volume XV Number 2 387 PALL ARDAL learned from Hume's account, but disagree about the nature of this lesson because of a disagreement about the nature of pride. Both Davidson and I think that Hume's claim that pride is a simple impression is an embarrassment to him. It does not have any immediate appeal and also leads him to clearly misrepresent the relation between pride and its object. Pride has self as its object in the sense that it is a form of self-evaluation. Hume misrepresents this relation as a causal relation between pride and the thoughtofoneself. Whenever one is proud, one's thought is drawn to oneself, but according to Hume it couldhave been otherwise. Itjust so happens that the feeling ofpride makes one think of oneself, that when you are already proud your thought turns to yourself. Hume, it is true, does not always represent the relation between the object of pride and the passion itself as contingent. Much ofwhathe says suggests the more plausible view that pride is essentially a form of self-evaluation, but the lesson we can learn from Hume we can learn in spite ofhis atomism, so let us follow Davidson and disregard the atomism, while admitting its presence in Hume's account. Davidson points out that the pride Hume is talking about is pride for a reason. I follow Hume in talking about the cause ofpride, or what makes one proud, but the two accounts seem to me to be very similar on this issue. The two accounts are alsoin agreement thatHume should have said that the proud person must see the cause of pride as having value rather than as an independent source of pleasure, but we are... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:372 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY tranquilly in a world shorn of illusions, avoiding the obvious pitfalls revealed by past human behavior. Bongie's excellent study should help us not only in placing Hume in his century, but in seeing the role of his History as a major part of his philosophical contribution. If, instead of simply seeing Hume as a radical because of his religious views in the context of 18th, (...) 19th, and 20th-century England and America, we can also see him as a conservative for his historical views in the context of 18th-century French events, we may get a richer and more meaningful Hume. We may also see first the revolutionary and then the conservative role that "philosophical history" played in the 18th century, and the tensions that existed between scepticism, Enlightenment, and conservatism in that period. And through this, we may get a clearer understanding of both the role that Hume's sceptical and historical contributions played then, and of the complex legacy that he has bequeathed us today. He was not only the precursor of Bertrand Russell and of modern analytic philosophy. He inspired a variety of conservative and orthodox tendencies in 18th-century France. To understand and appreciate the complete Hume, we need to see the full range of his intellectual achievements both then and now. And this may well help illuminate the roots and the meaning of some of the theories that have run most counter to the liberal and irreligious trends since the Enlightenment. One can hope that Bongie's significant study will be followed by others on the impact of "philosophical history," and of Hume's scepticism on the darker side of our past so that we may more fully appreciate the force and effect of modern scepticism and of the allied historical studies it spawned. Today, as we lose some of the optimism that the Enlightenment heroes bequeathed to us, we may be able to appreciate again some of the doubts and fears of those who struggled against it, and of those who sought solace in Hume's scepticism and in his picture of the human condition. RICHARD H. POPKI~ University oJ California, San Diego Passion and Value in Hume's TrmATxSE. By Piill S. /~rdal. (Edinburgh, at the University Press, 1966. Pp. x + 220. 45/.) This is a meticulous and critical examination of Hume's psychology of the emotional dimension of "human nature." The theme that emerges as central is the contrast between the mental structure of "the understanding" as Locke conceived it and those impressions and expressions in experience that are not perceptions or ideas but affections or passions. Emotions are not "associated" in the way ideas are, according to Locke; they are "communicated" and the ways in which communication among emotions takes place call for a very different type of analysis from the analysis of the understanding./~rdal shows in great detail and with acute observations that Hume is constantly on his guard against the theory of Locke's Essay, and puts his Treatise in the context of "experimental method" applied to the science of the emotions in their impressional and expressional relations. With this as the basic problem of the Treatise, /krdal criticizes those who today are interpreting the Treatise as a theory of evaluative judgment and language, whereas Hume is explicit in making a distinction between the analysis of the "nature and origin" of valuational experience and the logic of judgments of value which he is excluding. I-Iume approaches the passions as powers, and his analysis is closer to the Newtonian method of describing actions and reactions than to Locke's method of compounding simples. The passions are "naturally connected" and do not need to be consciously associated as perceptions do. They are all simple and indefinable, in view of Hume's interest in "moral science", he gives emphasis to the passions of pride, humility, and sympathy. The so-called compound passions or sentiments, such as benevolence, malice, anger together with the discussion of virtues and vices are kept distinct from the "direct" and elementary passions and energies of the mind and organism. Hume was not a hedonist, and he was a utilitarian only BOOK... (shrink)

In this paper, I reconstruct Hume's account of decency, the virtue associated with a limited display of pride, and show how it presents a significant challenge to standard virtue ethical interpretations of Hume. In section I, I explore his ambivalent conception of pride as both virtuous (because useful and agreeable to oneself) and vicious (when excessive and disagreeable to others). In section II, I show how the virtue of decency provides a practical solution to these two clashing aspects (...) of pride. In doing so, I demonstrate that decency is a merely behavioural virtue that requires no virtuous motive and consists of nothing more than "a fair outside." I argue that this account of decency represents a serious and underexplored challenge to standard interpretations of Hume as a virtue ethicist committed to the idea that actions derive their moral value from underlying motives. In section III, I reply to some objections. -/- . (shrink)

Hume views the passions as having both intentionality and qualitative character, which, in light of his Separability Principle, seemingly contradicts their simplicity. I reject the dominant solution to this puzzle of claiming that intentionality is an extrinsic property of the passions, arguing that a number of Hume’s claims regarding the intentionality of the passions (pride and humility in particular) provide reasons for thinking an intrinsic account of the intentionality of the passions to be required. Instead, I propose to resolve (...) this tension by appealing to Hume’s treatment of the ‘distinctions of reason’, as explained by Garrett (1997). (shrink)

Jacqueline Taylor presents an original reconstruction of Hume's social theory, which examines the passions and imagination in relation to institutions such as government and the economy. She goes on to examine Hume's system of ethics, and argues that the principle of humanity is the central concept of Hume's Enlightenment philosophy.

Hume's account of the passions is largely neglected because the author's purposes tend to be missed. The passions were accepted by early modern philosophers, of whatever persuasion, as the mental effects of bodily processes. The dualist and the materialist differed over whether reason is a higher power able to judge and control them: thus Descartes affirms, whereas Hobbes denies, this possibility.Hume's account lines up firmly behind Hobbes. Although he shies away from Hobbes's dogmatic physiological claims, he affirms all the key (...) elements of the psychology Hobbes based on them: the nature of the will, the compatibility of freedom and necessity, the subservience of reason to passion, and the motivating power of pleasure and pain. Hume's account is thus best regarded as implicitly materialist. It is not, however, merely disinterested analysis: it aims at criticism of orthodox religious values. The passions are not threats to morality, but virtuous or vicious according to their pleasurable or painful nature. Thus the status of pride and humility is reversed. Hume's account of the passions underpins a rejection of orthodox religious morals, and endorses the values of antiquity — of pagan virtue. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 25.1 (2001) 169-171 [Access article in PDF] Book Review The Passion for Happiness: Samuel Johnson and David Hume The Passion for Happiness: Samuel Johnson and David Hume, by Adam Potkay; 241 pp. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2000, $42.50. This book is a sustained attack on the widespread impression that Samuel Johnson and David Hume were antithetical characters, a notion largely nourished by that memorable (...) moment when Boswell brings up Hume "and other skeptical innovators" and Johnson replies, as we all remember, "Truth will not afford sufficient food to their vanity; so they have betaken themselves to error. Truth, sir, is a cow which will yield such people no more milk, and so they have gone to milk the bull." Professor Potkay feels that this image has radically distorted our perception of the truth.A large part of the problem, as Potkay sees it, is that the Johnson of the biography is not the same as the Johnson seen in his writings. Boswell, he claims, "superbly fashioned a Johnson after his own heart" (p. 29). Biography is beset with the misapprehensions we all have of another individual, but personal writing is equally subject to rhetorical posturing, selective memory, and other histrionics of the ego.Potkay makes a strong and interesting case for the proposition that Johnson and Hume were in accord as to their ideas of happiness. "Johnson and Hume set forth largely compatible visions of human happiness that, while rooted in Cicero, draw as well on modern authors..." (p. 5). In this view, happiness is intrinsically social, the inverse of Sartre's L'enfer, c'est les autres. We are estimable in our own eyes only if we are so in the eyes of others. The astronomer in Rasselas finally surmounts his delusion that he controls the weather only by leaving his solitude for the society of others. Hume declared that perfect solitude is the greatest punishment that we can suffer (p. 60). Hume and Johnson both agree that cities afford the greatest happiness through a multiplicity of agreeable consciousness--London for Johnson and Paris for Hume.Potkay argues that the chief ethic in the writings of both Hume and Johnson [End Page 169] "is the eclectic, Ciceronian brand of Stoicism Hume delineates in 'the Stoic', a sociable Stoicism whose end is 'the moderating of our passions, the enlightening of our reason'" (p. 77). The path to happiness lies in cultivating reason and moderating passion. However, unlike ethicists that downgrade the passions, Hume and Johnson see the passions as necessary and good. As against the whole duty of man, they think that pride is good, unless it causes pain to others. This is fresh news for those of us who have squirmed in Sunday school classes when pride was severely denounced and humility recommended--squirmed in spite of our reverence for Milton. Johnson and Hume viewed pride and the pleasure derived from praise as inspiring progress in trades, professions, arts, and science. It excites ingenuity. This is what we didn't dare say in Sunday school.Potkay searches indefatigably for parallels between the two men. We are told that they both rejected the hard determinism that some thinkers derived from Newtonian physics. In the midst of all this we have another discussion of tragedy, pity and fear, etc., the sort of thing that requires the reckless exuberance of youth in order to relish. Are we expected to feel astonished that here too we find them in accord? The parallels between the two men are pushed to the point that a reader might begin to suspect that there is a hidden half of the text that is being withheld, perhaps countervailing evidence. We begin to feel that lurking suspicion evoked by someone too zealously dedicated to a thesis.By the middle of the book, a reader is likely to be convinced that far from going forth to milk the bull, Hume was almost an intellectual twin of Johnson. At the same time, though, sepia thoughts begin to seep into the mind. We notice that these parallel thoughts... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:26. DAVID HUME ON REASON, PASSIONS AND MORALS Perhaps the most notorious passage in Hume's Treatise is the one that concerns the relative roles of reason and passions, where he says: Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions (T 415). This psychology of action is the foundation of Hume's moral theory, wherein we find his two other notorious dicta, one being!.¡oral distinctions cannot be (...) derived from reason, and the other, Ought cannot be derived from is. Many commentators have interpreted Hume as saying that reason plays no role in the making of moral judgments, and, while not taking the rationalistic line, criticized him for not giving reason its proper due. The aim of this paper is to show that Hume's primary concern is to argue against the rationalist position which takes reason to be sufficient (always or sometimes) to move one to act, and to give rise to moral judgments. I wish to show that Hume is only concerned with dismissing the claim that reason could be a sufficient condition, not that it is a necessary one. Indeed, Hume could be interpreted as saying that reason is no less important than passions in shaping human conduct, anc in the area of inorai conduct, there can be no moral judgments without the work of reason. At the same time, however, passions remain the prime mover; reason does not move us to act (generally, hence morally). 1 shall try to show that the dictum '¿¡oral distinctions cannot be derived from reason' is essentially correct, but its being correct in no way shows that reason is not a necessary element of moral distinctions. 27. Before discussing the views of some critics of Hume's moral theory, it is important to clear up one source of misunderstanding that lies in Hume's discussion of the psychology of action. When Hume says that reason is the slave of passions, he does not say thereby that reason is unimportant. He is saying merely that reason alone does not move one to act. The force that propels one to action is the passion, whether it be love, or anger, or pride, or envy, or fear, or desire. Reason alone does not provide the motive. However, it is reason that does the groundwork, analyzing facts, perceiving relations, and drawing conclusions, all of which go to determine which action to perform, but the action will not be performed unless one of the passions is also present. Just because reason is the slave does not indicate that its work is not relevant. To extend the slavery metaphor, we may observe that slave owners supported slavery for the very reason that the slave's work was found indispensable; analogously, it must be observed that Hume is most unlikely to hole that reason plays no part in human action. To complete the analogy, we should say that while much could be achieved with slaves, it was the masters who conceived the plan, and the masters must rank higher in the causal order. We may observe further that greater achievement could be had by treating slaves properly, not overworking them, and not ill-treating them. If reason is the slave, it will be in our interest to cultivate it, sharpen it, and use it always and to the full. This could be inferred from HuTr.e's discussion of the understanding in Book 1 of the Treatise. indeed, in the conclusion of Book I, Hume points out forcefully that we contradict ourselves if we hold that no refin'd or elaborate reasoning is ever to be 28. receiv'd (T 268). For it is only through reasoning that we arrive at any such conclusion. He goes on to say: Very refin'd reflections have little or no influence upon us; and yet we do not, and cannot establish it for a rule, that they ought not to have any influence; which implies a manifest contradiction (T268). There cannot be a clearer demonstration that it is not the case that Hume fails to give reason its proper due. Later, I shall cite further evidence for this in relation specifically to the role of reason in... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:David Hume on Personal Identity and the Indirect Passions Robert S. Henderson Scholarly reflection on Hume's "doctrine" ofselfand personal identity continues to focus on the sections "Of Personal Identity" and the "Appendix" toA Treatise ofHuman Nature. To answer the question of why we have so great a propension to ascribe an identity to these successiveperceptions which make up experience, Hume says that we must distinguish betwixtpersonal identity, as it (...) regards our thought or imagination, and as it regards our passions or the concern we take in ourselves. He considers only the former in these sections. Towards the end of the personal identity section he writes that our identity with regard to the passions serves to corroborate that with regard to the imagination, by the making our distant perceptions influence each other, and by giving us a present concern for ourpast or future pains or pleasures (T 261). In the advertisement to the Treatise Hume says that the subjects of the understanding and passions make a compleat chain of reasoning by themselves (T xii). In light of the importance Hume attaches to the distinction, and since there are many indications that the Treatise should be read as an integral whole, it is surprising that so little attention is given to what he says of personal identity in the other books. As the title suggests, this paper concentrates on the second part of the distinction and especially on the discussion ofthe indirectpassions in Book II of the Treatise. This is not to suggest that self does not play an important role elsewhere in Hume's science ofman; for example, it is selfwhich experiences the impression ofwill and the direct passions. However, the indirect passions have a particularly important part to play in ascriptions of personal identity and this justifies the present investigation. II We can safely predict that personal identity as it regards our passions will not be the idea??some philosophers whose views of self as having the philosophical (strict) relation ofidentity Hume has rejected in "Of Personal Identity." The relationship between thought and passion to which he draws attention suggests that the idea of selfin this context has a relation to the positive suggestions in that earlier section of why Volume XVI Number 1 33 ROBERT S. HENDERSON we do speak meaningfully of the identity of the self. We are able so to speak because ofarelationship which is felt to exist between a person's distinct and changing perceptions. The relationship has to do with the discovery by memory of the connection of a person's perceptions through the association ofideas by resemblance and causation (T 261). Examination of the idea of self to which Hume makes frequent reference in Book II requires some review ofthe method ofthe Treatise. Perceptions make up human experience. Perceptions are either impressions or ideas which derive from impressions. Hume describes the indirect passions as secondary or reflective impressions and these stem from original impressions or from their ideas. He distinguishes between direct andindirect passions. Directpassionsarise immediately fromgood or evil, frompain orpleasure (T 276). Examples are joy, hope and fear. Indirect passionsproceed from the same principles, but by the conjunction ofother qualities (T 276). That is, the indirect passions not onlyhave a cause (an impression which excites them), but also an object (to which the passion directs our view when excited). We shall see that a significant quality of the indirect passions is the relation of these impressions to their objects, which are either one's own or another's self. In Book II of the Treatise Hume examines the indirect passions: love, hate, pride and humility. These passions are evaluations of persons; of selfin the case of pride and humility, and of another in the case of love and hatred. Evaluation of persons is a central feature of Hume's moral philosophy: To have the sense ofvirtue, is nothing but to feel a satisfaction of a particular kind from the contemplation of a character. The very feeling constitutes our praise or admiration (T 471). We shall see that the indirect passions in particular make an important contribution to the answer ofHume's original question ofthe source?? owe propension to ascribe an identity. Ill... (shrink)

Hume’s discussion of pride and sympathy in the _Treatise_ shows direct engagement with Malebranche’s discussion of ‘imitation’ in the _Search_. For Malebranche, imitation—both of passions and belief—and our tendency to judge ourselves by comparison, generate the passion of pride or grandeur, which plays a useful social role. However, as both cause and effect of the admiration of others, grandeur is ungrounded and thus imaginary. Hume disagrees. He invokes the principle of sympathy to explain how the evaluations of (...) others can support pride by indicating, without constituting, grounds for pride. Hume’s argument depends on his underappreciated claim that sympathy can communicate the evaluative opinions as well as the passions of others. Working with the Malebranchean inventory of principles—sympathy and comparison—Hume refines their characterization, thereby redeeming the human tendency to feel pride and humility by characterizing it as corrigible and subject to social regulation. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Martin Heidegger and OntologyEmmanuel Levinas (bio)The prestige of Martin Heidegger 1 and the influence of his thought on German philosophy marks both a new phase and one of the high points of the phenomenological movement. Caught unawares, the traditional establishment is obliged to clarify its position on this new teaching which casts a spell over youth and which, overstepping the bounds of permissibility, is already in vogue. For once, (...) Fame has picked one who deserves it and, for that matter, one who is still living. Anyone who has studied philosophy cannot, when confronted by Heidegger’s work, fail to recognize how the originality and force of his achievements, stemming from genius, are combined with an attentive, painstaking, and close working-out of the argument—with that craftsmanship of the patient artisan in which phenomenologists take such pride. In this study, it is important for us to understand, above all, the true intentions of our author, to illuminate what he thinks really needs to be said, and to surmise what is most critical for him.To get to the heart of Heidegger’s system, it seems fitting to begin with a problem that is generally familiar. We choose the problem of knowledge, a deeper understanding of which takes us to the very threshold of Heidegger’s thought. For this problem, central to modern philosophy, is one of the main obstacles of modern philosophy that Heidegger wishes to surmount. Neo-Kantianism, which takes knowledge as the philosophical problem of the first rank, is the movement against which Heidegger rebels with all his strength. We have, thus, every chance of gaining access to his thought by the main door, so to speak. Once inside the system we will try to trace its outlines, 2 reserving, for a second part of our work, the determination of Heidegger’s place in the history of ideas, especially in the phenomenological movement, as well as of his relations with the philosopher to whom he owes so much—Edmund Husserl. 31In its most general form, the problem of the theory of knowledge has a critical significance. It consists in delineating a domain where knowledge can be certain and in determining the criteria for the legitimate scope of knowledge. But this problem, as normal and as simple as it may appear, has deeper roots. That knowledge should need a criterion at all presupposes that truth is not identical to all that is known and that the course [End Page 11] of things can fail to correspond with the course of thought. “How does knowledge correspond to being?” is a more profound formulation of the problem of knowledge.But we are not going to touch anymore on the primordial phenomenon that generates the problem. The problem of correspondence between thing and thought presupposes a free activity of thought and its isolation in relation to the object. It is precisely this presupposition which renders their harmony and even their contact problematic. “How does the subject take leave of itself to attain the object?” is what the problem of knowledge, in the last analysis, boils down to. Its true source is thus the concept of “subject” as elaborated by modern philosophy. The cogito presided over the subject’s birth. The cogito was the affirmation of the privileged nature of the subject’s immanent sphere, of its unique place in existence; hence, the cogito was the specificity of the subject’s connection to the rest of reality, the sui generis nature which opens up the passage from immanence to transcendence, the passage from ideas contained in the thinking substance to 4 their “formal existence.”The concept of the subject, understood as a substance having a specific position in the entire domain of being, presents us with difficulties of two kinds. First, how do we understand this leave-taking from the self which the thinking substance brings about and which displays an entirely original aspect? Indeed, we could say that thought, in reaching out toward objects, does not actually take leave of itself, since its objects—considered as ideas and contents of thought—are, in a certain sense, already within it. In order to make sense of this paradox, Descartes... (shrink)

The Franciscan William of Ockham (c.1285-c.1347) was the greatest theologian and philosopher of the first half of the fourteenth century. Spurred on by the activities of a papacy which he saw as destroying the very foundations of his Order, he devoted the last part of his life to examining the extent of papal power over Christians and its relationship to the secular government of people. On the Power of Emperors and Popes (1347) is his last work. Short, passionate and lucid, (...) it represents a distillation of his thought on these questions and forms an excellent and accessible introduction to his political thought as a whole. The extensive new annotations to the text bring to light the range of sources on which Ockham drew, while the new introduction places the work in its historical context and relates it to other works of medieval Franciscan political discourse. Translated here into English for the first time, the work will be of interest to all students and researchers in the field of medieval political thought. --the first English translation of Ockham's classic work, plus extensive new introduction, textual annotation, and bibliography --modern editorial apparatus connects the work with the whole body of Ockham's political thought --the new annotation provides historical and intellectual context and translations of Ockham's source references. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Scepticism About Persons in Book II of Hume’s TreatiseDonald C. AinslieBook ii of Hume’s Treatise—especially its first two Parts on the “indirect passions” of pride, humility, love, and hatred—has mystified many of its interpreters.1 Hume clearly thinks these passions are important: Not only does he devote more space to them than to his treatment of causation, but in the “Abstract” to the Treatise, he tells us that Book (...) II “contains opinions that are altogether as new and extraordinary” (T 659) as those found in Book I. And, he says, these opinions constitute “the foundation” (T 646) for his treatment of morals and politics in Book III.2 The mystery arises, however, because in the actual text of [End Page 469] Book II Hume never spells out what makes his opinions on the passions “new and extraordinary,” nor why they are foundational for his moral theory.Thus some of his interpreters, notably Norman Kemp Smith, conclude that Hume was simply mistaken in his assessment of his treatment of the passions. While his accounts of the will and of motivation (in the early Sections of Part iii of Book II) are significant, Kemp Smith takes the extended analysis of the indirect passions to spring merely from his misplaced enthusiasm for associationist psychology. As such, the philosophical lessons to be learned from the first two Parts of Book II are slim.3 Páll Árdal, in contrast, tries to construct for Hume what he seems to have omitted—a philosophical rationale for his obvious interest in the indirect passions. Árdal starts by drawing attention to the role these passions play in Hume’s moral philosophy, in particular, his repeatedly connecting the indirect passions to the moral sentiments of approval and disapproval. Árdal concludes that Hume means to equate the moral sentiments with particular kinds of indirect passions. The first two Parts of Book II are of interest, on Ardal’s reading, because it is there that he shows us how moral sentimentalism can be founded on something more fully naturalistic than Hutcheson’s somewhat mysterious “moral sense.”4I argue against Árdal’s interpretation in §2. But this reopens the problem of accounting for Hume’s interest in the indirect passions. I offer my view in §§3–5 where, like Árdal, I provide a reconstruction of Hume’s discussion of these passions in order to show how it has an underlying philosophical motivation. My claim is that Hume relies on the indirect passions to explain how we form beliefs about persons as bearers of features that make them into who [End Page 470] they are. It is by feeling an indirect passion towards someone that we think of her as more than accidentally related to some quality, such as her country, her riches, her family, or even her character traits. In support of my interpretation I point to the many parallels Hume draws between the indirect passions and the associative mechanism he offers to explain our forming causal beliefs (I.iii). And I suggest that, just as Hume’s associative explanation of causal beliefs is necessitated by his scepticism about intrinsic “necessary connexions,” so also his associative mechanism for our beliefs about persons—the indirect passions—is necessitated by a certain kind of scepticism about persons. This is not the scepticism about persons that we find in “Of personal identity” (I.iv.6), where Hume argues against the view that our perceptions inhere in a simple soul; it is rather a scepticism about there being intrinsic features of persons that define them as who they are.But, before I explain in more detail what my claim amounts to, it will help to have available a brief description of the mechanism that Hume’s takes to explain the indirect passions.1. THE MECHANISM FOR THE INDIRECT PASSIONSA passion, for Hume, is a simple impression felt in response to various circumstances. Because of their simplicity, we cannot define passions by putting their characteristic feeling into words; instead, Hume thinks, we can only delineate “such circumstances, as attend them” (T 277). Passions are indirect if those circumstances include as an outcome the focusing of attention onto a person... (shrink)

We must rethink the status of Hume’s science of emotions. Contemporary philosophers typically dismiss Hume’s account on the grounds that he mistakenly identifies emotions with feelings. But the traditional objections to Hume’s feeling theory are not as strong as commonly thought. Hume makes several important contributions, moreover, to our understanding of the operations of the emotions. His claims about the causal antecedents of the indirect passions receive support from studies in appraisal theory, for example, and his suggestions concerning the social (...) dimensions of self-conscious emotions can help guide future research in this field. His dual-component hypothesis concerning the processing of emotions, furthermore, suggests a compromise solution to a recalcitrant debate in cognitive science. Finally, Hume’s proposals concerning the motivational influences of pride, and the conventional nature of emotional display rules, are vindicated by recent work in social psychology. (shrink)

Hume introduced important innovations concerning the theory of ideas. The two most important are the distinction between impressions and ideas, and the use he made of the principles of association in explaining mental phenomena. Hume divided the perceptions of the mind into two classes. The members of one class, impressions, he held to have a greater degree of force and vivacity than the members of the other class, ideas. He also supposed that ideas are causally dependent copies of impressions. And, (...) unlike Locke and others, Hume makes positive use of the principle of association, both of the association of ideas, and, in a more limited way, of the association of impressions. Such associations are central to his explanations of causal reasoning, belief, the indirect passions (pride and humility, love and hatred), and sympathy. These views about impressions and ideas and the principles of association form the core of Hume’s science of human nature. Relying on them, he attempts a rigorously empirical investigation of human nature. The resulting system is a remarkable but complex achievement. (shrink)

In this paper I discuss Hume’s theory of pride and the ‘remarkable mechanism’ of sympathy. In the first part of the paper I outline the ways in which Hume’s theory can accommodate the sense in which the passions are directed on things or possess intentionality while still holding to his view that passions are simple feelings. In the second part of the paper I consider a problem internal to Hume’s account of pride which arises in his discussion of (...) the love of fame and the functioning of sympathy; I explain how the tensions can be reconciled by recognising that Hume’s theory of sympathy is more nuanced than has commonly been recognized. In the third part I turn back to the evaluation of Hume’s theory of pride and argue that while it is unfair to complain that Hume does not make self-evaluation a central component of pride, Hume’s treatment of the idea of self in his theory of the passions is inadequate because he can make no proper room for the phenomenon of vicarious pride. (shrink)

I intend to discuss Hume’s theory of personal identity in Books I and II of the Treatise of Human Nature. First, I intend to argue that Hume’s distinction between a ‘personal identity with regard to thought and imagination’ and a ‘personal identity with regard to passions and self-interest’ is only methodological, not radical. That is, the philosopher does not sug-gest the existence of two distinct ideas of personal identity in mind. Secondly, I try to show the contribution of the passions (...) of pride and humility to the production of a belief in personal identity. Pride and humility contribute to the liveliness of this belief by producing the person’s interest in his sensations and actions of the past and the future. Thirdly, I want to show how passions and self-interest make it possible to explain the corporeal aspect of the belief in personal identity. I propose to discuss how the body and its qualities can be understood as constituent elements of the notion of personal identity. (shrink)

According to Aristotle, character (êthos) and emotion (pathos) are constitutive features of the process of phronetic practical deliberation: in order to render a determinate action-specific judgement, practical reasoning cannot be simply reduced to logical demonstration (apodeixis). This can be seen by uncovering an important structural parallel between the virtue of phronêsis and the art of rhetoric. This structural parallel helps to show how Aristotle's account of practical reason and deliberation, which constructively incorporates the emotions, illuminates key issues in contemporary democratic (...) theory concerning deliberation at the political level. (shrink)

_TABLE OF CONTENTS:_ Translator's Introduction Introduction by Genevieve Rodis-Lewis _The Passions of the Sou_l: Preface PART I: About the Passions in General, and Incidentally about the Entire Nature of Man PART II: About the Number and Order of the Passions, and the Explanation of the Six Primitives PART III: About the Particular Passions Lexicon: Index to Lexicon Bibliography Index Index Locorum.

A startling look at one of this century's most influential philosophers, the book chronicles every stage of Foucault's personal and professional odyssey, from his early interest in dreams to his final preoccupation with sexuality and the nature of personal identity.

This book is the first comprehensive study of Rousseau's rich and complex theory of the type of self-love (amour proper) that, for him, marks the central difference between humans and the beasts. Amour proper is the passion that drives human individuals to seek the esteem, approval, admiration, or love--the recognition--of their fellow beings. Neuhouser reconstructs Rousseau's understanding of what the drive for recognition is, why it is so problematic, and how its presence opens up far-reaching developmental possibilities for creatures (...) that possess it. One of Rousseau's central theses is that amour proper in its corrupted, manifestations--pride or vanity--is the principal source of an array of evils so widespread that they can easily appear to be necessary features of the human condition: enslavement, conflict, vice, misery, and self-estrangement. Yet Rousseau also argues that solving these problems depends not on suppressing or overcoming the drive for recognition but on cultivating it so that it contributes positively to the achievement of freedom, peace, virtue, happiness, and unalienated selfhood. Indeed, Rousseau goes so far as to claim that, despite its many dangers, the need for recognition is a condition of nearly everything that makes human life valuable and that elevates it above mere animal existence: rationality, morality, freedom--subjectivity itself--would be impossible for humans if it were not for amour proper and the relations to others it impels us to establish. (shrink)

This paper attempts to give a complete and coherent account of how Hume’s moral psychology can explain the cultivation of moral character. I argue that the outcome of a fully formed moral character is an agent who strengthens her calm moral sentiments into settled principles of action. I then take up the question of how the process of strengthening moral sentiments might occur, rejecting the possibilities of sympathy, “reflection,” and “resolution” because either they are too weak or else they make (...) the passion violent, preventing the essential calm nature of moral sentiments. I next argue that custom and the non-moral motives of pride and the love of fame play the critical roles in character formation. Custom can be considered as both the process of education, whereby certain impressions are habitually and formally inculcated into us by educators, and the process of experience in society and conversation, whereby we learn to associate pleasure with the virtues and pain with the vices. In both these processes, Hume implicitly appeals to certain non-moral motives, especially pride and the love of fame, in order to launch the effects of custom. (shrink)

Thomas Aquinas has argued that the passion of hope is the movement of the sensitive appetite and the first of the irascible passion. The first part of the article aims to explore the cause and the mechanism of the passion of hope, and tries to clarify the relationship between the passion of hope and the perception. In human beings, it is possible that the passion of hope is caused by false judgement of the perception, which (...) will lead to the result of false hope. In Aquinas’s argument, the problem of false hope could be solved through the moral virtue and the prudence. In the second part of this article, the aim is to analyse how the virtue of magnanimity, humility and the prudence work impact on the passion of hope and perfect it.Contribution: This research concentrates on the topic of the passion of hope of Thomas Aquinas, and provides a new perspective on the understanding of the relationship between the passion and the virtue. (shrink)

Descartes developed an elaborate theory of animal physiology that he used to explain functionally organized, situationally adapted behavior in both human and nonhuman animals. Although he restricted true mentality to the human soul, I argue that he developed a purely mechanistic (or material) ‘psychology’ of sensory, motor, and low-level cognitive functions. In effect, he sought to mechanize the offices of the Aristotelian sensitive soul. He described the basic mechanisms in the Treatise on man, which he summarized in the Discourse. However, (...) the Passions of the soul contains his most ambitious claims for purely material brain processes. These claims arise in abstract discussions of the functions of the passions and in illustrations of those functions. Accordingly, after providing an intellectual context for Descartes’s theory of the passions, especially by comparison with that of Tho- mas Aquinas, I examine its ‘machine psychology’, including the role of habituation and association. I contend that Descartes put forth what may reasonably be called a ‘psychology’ of the unensouled animal body and, correspondingly, of the human body when the soul does not intervene. He thus conceptually distinguished a mechanistically explicable sensory and motor psychology, common to nonhuman and human animals, from true mentality involving higher cognition and volition and requiring (in his view) an immaterial mind. (shrink)