In this book Sharon Krause argues that moral and political deliberation must incorporate passions, even as she insists on the value of impartiality.

During the period from Descartes to Rousseau, the mind changed. Its domain was redefined; its activities were redescribed; and its various powers were redistributed. Once a part of cosmic Nous, its various functions delimited by its embodied condition, the individual mind now becomes a field of forces with desires impinging on one another, their forces resolved according to their strengths and directions. Of course since there is no such thing as The Mind Itself, it was not the mind that changed. (...) Conceptions of the mind changed. Yet even to say this is misleading, because it suggests that somewhere out there in nowhere there is Nous, Psyche, Soul or Mind, the true but opaque object of all these conceptions. But of course there is no Mind in the realm of things in themselves, waiting for us to see it truly, like a China of the noumenal world, amused that our various conceptions reveal as much about ourselves as about it. (shrink)

Taxonomy and terminology might seem like dull topics. But the diverse ways that eighteenth-century philosophers identified and classified the emotions crucially shaped the approaches they took. This chapter traces the sources available to eighteenth-century British philosophers for naming and ordering the passions, lays out the main vocabulary and concepts used for description and analysis, including the notions of “reflection” and “sympathy,” and outlines the principles that organized explanation, such as the division of the passions into the pleasurable or painful, and (...) the selfish or social, as well as the role of “master passions.”. (shrink)

In the 1720s Francis Hutcheson developed a systematic account of the origins of ethical judgments that would have a profound influence on later writers. Ethical judgments, he argues, arise from the perceptions of internal senses that are, themselves, rooted in ‘Passions and Affections’. This paper describes his account and draws attention to an important tension at its heart. When judging particular cases, Hutcheson praises kindly, generous, and merciful affections as exemplary. But when he proposes a mathematical formula for ‘computing the (...) Goodness’ of a person’s character, this formula yields results that are at odds with many of his judgments about the kindly, generous, and merciful. I trace the sources of this tension and identify ways in which Hutcheson might have avoided it. (shrink)

I argue for a thorough reinterpretation of Hume’s “common point of view” thesis, at least within his moral Enquiry. Hume is typically understood to argue that we correct for sympathetically produced variations in our moral sentiments, by undertaking an imaginative exercise. I argue that Hume cannot consistently claim this, because he argues that we automatically experience the same degree of the same moral sentiment towards all tokens of any one type of character trait. I then argue that, in his (...) Enquiry at least, Hume only believes that we correct for variations in our non-moral sentiments. When he claims that we sometimes choose a “common point of view,” he just means that we sometimes choose to verbally express our calm, moral sentiments, and no other passions, when we publicly evaluate people’s characters. (shrink)

Today there is a thriving 'emotions industry' to which philosophers, psychologists and neuroscientists are contributing. Yet until two centuries ago 'the emotions' did not exist. In this path-breaking study Thomas Dixon shows how, during the nineteenth century, the emotions came into being as a distinct psychological category, replacing existing categories such as appetites, passions, sentiments and affections. By examining medieval and eighteenth-century theological psychologies and placing Charles Darwin and William James within a broader and more complex nineteenth-century setting, Thomas (...) Dixon argues that this domination by one single descriptive category is not healthy. Overinclusivity of 'the emotions' hampers attempts to argue with any subtlety about the enormous range of mental states and stances of which humans are capable. This book is an important contribution to the debate about emotion and rationality which has preoccupied western thinkers throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and has implications for contemporary debates. (shrink)

Annette Baier's aim is to make sense of David Hume's Treatise as a whole. Hume's family motto, which appears on his bookplate, was True to the End. Baier argues that it is not until the end of the Treatise that we get his full story about truth and falsehood, reason and folly. By the end, we can see the cause to which Hume has been true throughout the work. Baier finds Hume's Treatise of Human Nature to be a carefully crafted (...) literary and philosophical work which itself displays a philosophical progress of sentiments. His starting place is an overly abstract intellectualism that deliberately thrusts passions and social concerns into the background. In the three interrelated books of the Treatise, his self-understander proceeds through partial successes and dramatic failures to emerge with new-found optimism, expecting that the exact knowledge the morally self-conscious anatomist of human nature can acquire will itself improve and correct our vision of morality. Baier describes how, by turning philosophy toward human nature instead of toward God and the universe, Hume initiated a new philosophy, a broader discipline of reflection that can embrace Charles Darwin and Michel Foucault as well as William James and Sigmund Freud. Hume belongs both to our present and to our past. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 62.3 (2001) 425-444 [Access article in PDF] The Passions and Animal Language, 1540-1700 R. W. Serjeantson "Do not think, kind and benevolent readers, that I am proposing a useless subject to you by choosing to discuss the language [loquela] of beasts. For this is nothing other than philosophy, which investigates the natures of animals." 1 The Italian medical professor Hieronymus Fabricius ab Aquapendente (...) began his 1603 treatise On the language of beasts with this captatio benevolentiae with good cause. For early modern natural philosophers almost universally insisted that only humans were capable of language and speech. In this they followed, sometimes explicitly, their ancient authorities. "Man," Aristotle had said in the Politics, "is the only animal that has the gift of speech." "Men," wrote Cicero in the De inventione, "most excel the beasts in this, that they can speak." 2 They were sentiments echoed throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. "There is no true language among beastes," said Sir Kenelm Digby. "Language" (loquela), concurred G. J. Vossius, "is unique to man." And according to John Ray in The Wisdom of God (1691), speech was "a quality so peculiar to Man, that no Beast could ever attain to it." 3Language was a subject of absorbing interest to numerous early modern philosophers. They investigated its origin, its production, its signification, and its use. But behind almost all of these investigations lay one of the most profound suppositions in early modern anthropology: the uniqueness of the human [End Page 425] capacity for language, and the brutishness of the brute beasts. Harsh judgments were passed on those who thought that animals might be able to speak. Lawyers held that belief in animal language was sufficient evidence of idiocy. According to Kenelm Digby it was only vanity, ignorance, and a specious desire for reputation that had led some authors to argue that animals used "compleate languages as Men haue to discourse with one another in." And the seventeenth-century English writer on the passions, Edward Reynolds, thought that only "melancholy men" believed "that Elephants and Birds, and other Creatures have a language whereby they discourse with one another." 4Yet despite this pervasive assumption that humans spoke and animals did not, the question of animal language kept arising in early modern culture. Readers met speaking animals in beast fablesand on Lucianic voyages. There was a popular belief in early modern England that "in the olde tymes" animals could speak. 5 Theodore Zwinger, Claude Duret, and G. J. Vossius all recorded many accounts of human communication with birds, with the ancient claim that Apollonius of Tyana could understand birdsong being particularly notorious. 6 In the Old Testament Balaam's ass asks his owner what he has done to deserve being beaten. 7 And St. Basil had even suggested that before the Fall Adam and Eve had been able to talk to the animals as well as to name them--a suggestion that both Thomas Browne and Joseph Glanvill gave short shrift. 8 But my purpose in this paper is not to follow speaking animals through early modern fables, popular beliefs, or even Biblical commentary. Instead, I propose to explore the serious investigations of zoosemiotics and animal communication that were undertaken by numerous philosophers in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 9For then as now, the question of animal language, broadly interpreted, was a serious one for the sciences. It was a question that was addressed across a wide range of disciplines, from logic to natural history. As such it was an important component of the many discussions of the nature of animal reason--discussions that provided a means for skeptical moral philosophers to humble human pretensions [End Page 426] to rationality and wisdom. 10 Natural philosophers, too, undertook detailed inquiries into the question of animal expression, exploring issues of articulacy, anatomy, and function. Almost all early modern authors agreed that animals could not speak and did not possess language in the same way that humans did. But this still left a great deal of scope for considering the extent... (shrink)

Pascal founds his interpretation of the Augustinian doctrine of the corruption of human nature on a philosophy of faith inherited from Montaigne: « we are Christians in just the same way as we are Périgordians or Germans » (Essais, II, 12) : this conception of « human faith » is analysed, in turn, by means of concepts drawn from Descartes (passion) and Gassendi (imagination). He thus leads us to a very modern conception of « human faith » – without grace (...) – as being the product of education and habit, a « sentiment » like so many others. (shrink)

L'esthétique comme catégorie oscille entre sensation et jugement. La beauté assiège la raison philosophique, quêtant, de Platon à Heidegger, l'intelligible non le ravissement, indicible émoi. Les sciences sociales creusent ce fossé, substituant au concept d'esthétique celui d'Art. Il s'agit ici de dissocier goût artistique, agonistique des expertises sociales, et sentiment esthétique, expérience rare et commune d'un saisissement affectif et spirituel de tout l'être. Singulier, toujours, silencieux souvent. Comprendre son ardeur ou sa simplicité, c'est se placer aux frontières : esthétique de (...) la connaissance, anthropologie des passions, socio-sémiologie des formes, langages... Loin des précautions de la sociologie de l'art, c'est l'aventure d'une approche transversale du sens."--Page 4 of cover. (shrink)

Dans cet article, l'auteur propose une étude consacrée à la passion, tout spécialement à partir d'une interrogation sur le rapport entre passion et imagination. Partant du Traité des passions de Descartes, l'auteur commence par examiner en quels termes Descartes décrit la passion comme étant ce qui "fait vouloir". Il montre ensuite que, d'après la conception cartésienne, la passion doit être assez similaire à l'imagination pour autant que l'une et l'autre induisent une modification profonde de notre rapport à la réalité. Les (...) sentiments ne nous donnent pas des objets tels qu'ils sont véritablement, mais à travers des valeurs subjectives qui les "irréalisent". Cette idée n'est rien d'autre que le lien d'étroite similitude entre le sentiment et l'imaginaire que Sartre a redécouvert dans L'Imaginaire. Après avoir discuté en détail les analyses de Sartre, l'auteur conclut en tirant quelques conséquences importantes des conceptions cartésienne et sartrienne de la passion. (shrink)

The mention of “self-control” calls up certain stock images: Saint Augustine struggling to renounce carnal pleasures; dispassionate Mr. Spock of Star Trek; the dieter faced with tempting desserts. In these stock images reason is almost always assigned the power and authority to govern passions, desires, and appetites. But what if the passions were given the power to rule—what if, instead of sovereign reason, there were sovereign sentiments? My dissertation examines three sentimentalist conceptions of self-control: David Hume’s conception of “strength (...) of mind”; Adam Smith’s conception of “self-command”; and Jane Austen’s examination of these conceptions. Hume divests reason of motivational power, and with this new moral psychology comes a new conception of self-control. Humean strength of mind is indirect, artificial, and social—a regulatory system that humans cannot develop until societal systems of government and regulations have been instituted. Smith accepts Hume’s anti-rationalist arguments, but he emphasizes that only certain sentiments are fit to rule. And he argues that self-control develops without the sophisticated external conditions posited by Hume. Smithian self-command is the capacity to modify one’s feelings in accordance with a regulative ideal: the sentiments of an imagined impartial spectator. Austen responds to these conceptions, illustrating and complicating them. Sense and Sensibility explores the difficulties of discerning the feelings of others, and Persuasion dramatizes the difficulties of distinguishing strength of mind in another, offering sets of characters for the reader’s scrutiny, each with a competing claim to strength of mind. Taken together, Austen’s novels offer a fuller and more delicately shaded depiction of the sort of self-control that Hume and Smith imagine in their philosophical works. (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)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Robert C. Solomon IN DEFENSE OF SENTIMENTALITY "A sentimentalist is simply one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it." —Oscar Wilde, De Profundis. 66TA That's Wrong with Sentimentality?"1 That tide of Mark JefV V ferson's 1983 Mindessay already indicates a great deal notonly about the gist of his article but about a century-old prejudice that has been devastating to ethics and literature alike. (...) According to that prejudice, it goes without saying that there is something wrong with it, even if it is difficult to put one's finger on it. To be called "sentimental" is to be ridiculed, or dismissed. Sentimentality is a weakness, it suggests hypocrisy. Or, perhaps it is the fact that sentimental people are so... so embarrassing. (How awkward it is talking or sitting next to someone weeping or gushing, when one is dry-eyed and somber.) Or, perhaps it is the well-confirmed fact that sentimentalists have such poor taste, and sentimental literature is, above all, literature that is cheap, superficial, and manipulative—in other words, verbal kitsch. Such mawkish literature jerks tears from otherwise sensible readers, and sentimentalists are those who actually enjoy that humiliating experience. Perhaps that is why Oscar Wilde thought that sentimentalists were really cynics ("Sentimentality is merely the bank holiday of cynicism").2 Or, perhaps what bothers us is what bothered Michael Tanner, that sentimental people indulge themselves in their feelings instead of doing what should be done.3 It is often said that the problem is that sentimentality and sentimental literature alike give us a false view of the world, distort our thinking and substitute a "saccharine" portrait of the world in place ofwhat we all know to be the horrible realities. Moreover, as Jefferson more than merely suggests, the "simple-minded sympathies " ofsentimentality might actually promote fascism and racism. Mary Midgley similarly suggests that sentimentality leads to brutality.4 But Philosophy and Literature, © 1990, 14: 304-323 Robert C. Solomon305 even where sentimentality is a harmless diversion—a Daphne du Maurier novel on a sad Saturday afternoon—it seems to be all but agreed that sentimentality is no virtue even ifit is not, like cruelty and hypocrisy, intrinsically vicious. Something is wrong with sentimentality; the only question is, what is it that is wrong? In this essay, I will argue that there is nothing wrong with sentimentality. Of course, like any quasi-ethical category, it admits of unwarranted excesses and hypocritical abuses, and is prone to various pathological distortions. But the prejudice against sentimentality, I want to argue, is ill-founded and in fact is an extension ofthat all-too-familiar contempt for the passions in Western literature and philosophy. Our disdain for sentimentality is the rationalist's discomfort with any display of emotion, warranted as well as unwarranted, appropriate as well as inappropriate. It is as ifthe very word, "sentimentality," has been loaded with the connotations of "too much"—too much feeling and too litde common sense and rationality, as if these were opposed instead of mutually supportive. It is as if sentimentality and its sentiments are never warranted and always inappropriate. The word has come to be used as the name of a deficiency or a weakness if not, as some critics have written, a malaise. But I take sentimentality to be nothing more nor less than the "appeal to tender feelings," and though one can manipulate and abuse such feelings (including one's own), and though they can on occasion be misdirected or excessive, there is nothing wrong with them as such and hence nothing (in that respect) wrong with literature that provokes us, that "moves" us, to abstract affection or weeping. Sentimentality implies no deficiency in one's rational faculties and does not imply any inappropriateness, unwillingness, or lack of readiness to act. Sentimentality does not involve any distortion of the world and it does not impede but rather prepares and motivates us to react in "the real world." It is not an escape from reality or responsibility, but, quite to the contrary, provides the precondition for ethical engagement rather than an obstacle to it. Historically, I want to trace the fate of sentimentality to... (shrink)

Taking a broad historical perspective, Public Passion traces the role of emotion in political thought from its prominence in classical sources, through its resuscitation by Montesquieu, to the present moment. Combining intellectual history, philosophy, and political theory, Rebecca Kingston develops a sophisticated account of collective emotion that demonstrates how popular sentiment is compatible with debate, pluralism, and individual agency and shows how emotion shapes the tone of interactions among citizens. She also analyzes the ways in which emotions are shared and (...) transmitted among citizens of a particular regime, paying particular attention to the connection between political institutions and the psychological dispositions that they foster. Public Passion presents illuminating new ways to appreciate the forms of popular will and reveals that emotional understanding by citizens may in fact be the very basis through which a commitment to principles of justice can be sustained. (shrink)

This contribution is concerned with what Hume means by reflection and sentiment. Hume’s Treatise is devoted to an account of the extent to which the mind is able to bear its own reflexion or turn mental states on themselves. This theme is likely the “new scene of thought” that inspired Hume’s major concerns in the Treatise. Although Hume found that the understanding fails to understand itself, the passions do better in satisfying curiosity about curiosity, and, most importantly, moral sentiment is (...) able to approve of itself. The author contends that the whole task of the moral sentiment is to get us to fulfill our part to mankind and society, and that, according to Hume, the sentiments are the noble source of morality itself. (shrink)

The traditional perspective on emotions, anchored in the Western philosophical tradition, assumes an irretrievable dualism between emotions and reason. Emotions are assumed as forces, which can blind a person’s view and lead them to do terrible things. For this reason, emotions must be put aside during rational deliberation. For common sense, including legal common sense, emotions are dangerous and are unrelated to rational decision-making. Nevertheless, Aristotelian’s perspective on the relationship between emotions, reason and practical deliberation is enlightening. Emotions are not (...) blind forces completely divorced from reason. Aristotle did not develop a complete theory of emotions but recognized a strong covariance between emotions/passions/sentiments and thoughts. This research is based on three theoretical pillars: Aristotle’s perspective on the relationship between reason and emotions drawn on Nicomachean Ethics and Rethoric, the jurisprudencialism, a jurisphilosophical approach elaborated by António Castanheira Neves, and Terry Maroney’s model for judicial emotion regulation. The power of judgement is assumed mainly as a practical task, which involves the excellence of phronesis, virtues and emotions/sentiments/passions. (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.

Selon les époques et les doctrines, les passions peuvent être envisagées comme vices, péchés, effets de l'imagination ou moteurs nécessaires à l'acion humaine. La modernité recueille ainsi un héritage complexe de thèmes venus de l'Antiquité comme du Moyen Âge. Ce volume aborde donc les modernités sur ce thème des passions, du tournant du XVIe siècle à la fin de l'époque des Lumières. Pages de début Préface Machiavel : le problème de la circularité des lois et des mœurs La théorie des (...) passions de Juan Luis Vivès Religion et passions chez Montaigne Shakespeare : des humeurs aux passions La subjectivité cartésienne et l'amour Gracián : l'héroïsme ou l'art de cacher les passions La question des passions dans l'œuvre de Pascal Spinoza et les problèmes des passions L'expression des passions : anatomie, dessin, sentiment Locke : les passions et la philosophie pratique Le De affectibus leibnizien : de la dynamique des passions à la constitution de la substance individuelle Contribution de l'art à une discipline des passions Diderot entre le désir et la passion Religion de l'homme, de la femme et du citoyen chez Rousseau La théorie des passions dans les traités d'économie deHume Pages de fin. (shrink)

Elizabeth Radcliffe's book is an important and original contribution to scholarship on Hume's ethics and moral psychology. Throughout, she deftly combines important discussions of Hume's predecessors and contemporaries that serve to contextualize his views with in-depth analysis of Hume's texts. At the same time, she shows an impressive familiarity with more recent scholarship on Hume's and Humean ethics, and deploys much of this recent scholarship to frame her own interpretation of Hume's ethics and moral psychology. That sophisticated and nuanced interpretation (...) focuses particularly on the relations between and the respective roles played by belief, the passions, and moral sentiments in motivation and agency.The... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:From Passions to Emotions: The Creation of a Secular Psychological CategoryMax RosenkrantzThomas Dixon. From Passions to Emotions: The Creation of a Secular Psychological Category. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Pp. x + 287. Cloth, $60.00Thomas Dixon's From Passions to Emotions defends a provocative set of theses. (1) The concept of "emotion" is of relatively recent vintage, having been designed by secular Scottish writers in the first half (...) of the nineteenth century. (2) That concept embraces a range of phenomena that earlier Christian writers such as Augustine and Aquinas understood in terms of a manifold of concepts such as "appetites," "passions," "affections," and "sentiments." (3) The concept of "emotion" is too crude an instrument for understanding human psychology. Further, (4) today the secular conceptual framework has completely displaced the religious one. This has nothing to do with the former's greater proximity to the truth, as is shown by the persistence of cogent Christian theories in the second half of the nineteenth century, the period of secularism's triumph; and (5) The opposition between reason and emotion arises only when theorists begin to think of "emotions" rather than "appetites," "passions," "affections," and "sentiments." Christian writers did not see the passions as simply the enemies of reason.The basis for Dixon's argument is his interpretation of nineteenth-century psychological theory in the English speaking world. Specifically he argues that the concept of "emotion" was invented by the Scottish thinker Thomas Brown (1778-1820). Brown's innovation was then appropriated and developed by Spencer, Darwin, and William James. The foil for this story is the Christian tradition represented most compellingly by Augustine and Aquinas and carried on by a host of lesser nineteenth-century figures. In my judgment, the story thus told cannot bear the weight Dixon places upon it.The centerpiece of Dixon's argument is his claim that Brown "invents" (109) the emotions and thereby initiates a conceptual revolution in western thought. While Dixon may be right in asserting that Brown is the first to use the word 'emotion' in a systematic fashion, this achievement is merely terminological. Brown deploys the term to develop a mechanistic account of human nature, one in which the springs of action are located not in the will and reason, but in the emotions. Replace 'emotion' in the preceding sentence with 'passion' and one gets a concise characterization of Hobbes's view. Dixon is aware that Brown and others work within a Hobbesian framework (250) but does not attend to that framework. Thus his claims for the significance of the developments he describes fail to convince. The real innovation in psychological theory—as in so much else—took place in the seventeenth century.Just as Dixon overestimates the importance and originality of the Scottish writers he discusses, so too he overestimates the intellectual importance of Augustine and Aquinas. His presentation of their views (26-62) is accurate, but he does not note that they take over the Platonic-Aristotelian view of the soul according to which reason can and should penetrate, educate and direct the passions. Thus the guiding thought that structures the work—the nineteenth century witnesses an ultimately successful revolt against Christian psychology—must be rejected. The revolt is against ancient, pre-Christian modes of thought and is undertaken and largely won in the seventeenth century. The events Dixon describes are skirmishes in that larger campaign.The rest of the theses Dixon defends can be dispatched with more quickly. The idea that the modern concept of "emotion" is insufficiently subtle is averted to frequently, but never adequately defended. At no point does Dixon demonstrate, or even claim to demonstrate, that Christian thinkers recognized something secular thinkers miss. Roughly the same can be said for his claims about the persistence of Christian psychology in the nineteenth century. What Dixon means is not just that such thinkers exist, but that their thought remains vibrant. Again I see no argument for such a verdict. Finally, there is the matter of the opposition between reason and passion. To his credit Dixon rejects the view according to which almost all Western thought is hostile to the passions. As he shows, this... (shrink)

This chapter contains section titled: Introduction The Basic Features of the Indirect Passions Why These Four Emotions? The Foundations of the Distinction, between Direct and Indirect Passions The Moral Sentiments References Further Reading.

Do the moral sentiments move us to act, according to Hume? And if so, how? Hume famously deploys the claim that moral evaluations move us to act to show that they are not derived from reason alone. Presumably, moral evaluations move us because (as Hume sees it) they are, or are the product of, moral sentiments. So, it would seem that moral approval and disapproval are or produce motives to action. This raises three interconnected interpretive questions. First, on (...) Hume's account, we are moved to do many virtuous actions not by the sentiments of approval and disapproval, but by other sentiments, such as gratitude and parental love; so when and how do the moral sentiments themselves provide motives to act morally? The second question arises as a result of a position I defend here, that the moral sentiments are best understood as Humean indirect affections. Hume says that the four main indirect passions (pride, humility, love and hatred) do not directly move us to act. The second question, then, is whether their status as indirect affections nonetheless allows moral approval and disapproval to be or provide motives. Finally, if we make a natural assumption about how Hume thinks belief about future pleasure is connected to the desire to obtain it (I call it the signpost assumption), it turns out that the mechanisms for producing motives that most naturally come to mind are ones that are equally available to reason alone. This introduces the third question: given the constraints Hume imposes on the nature of the moral sentiments, is there a way in which they can move us to act that is not also a way in which reason alone does? I argue that, given the signpost assumption, while Hume has greatly constrained his options, his moral sentiments do have one very limited way of moving us to act that is not available to reason alone. However, there are reasons to doubt that Hume endorses the signpost assumption. Without it, our moral evaluations have a far greater capacity to produce motives to act. One important objection arises; but this problem can be solved by rejecting a further assumption about what counts as being produced by reason alone. (shrink)

This dissertation examines the evolution of David Hume's ethics, focusing on moral judgment, moral motivation and ethical normativity. In chapter one, I argue that previous scholars have missed a crucial distinction between two different sympathetic processes at work in the Treatise. The first sympathetic process, "particular sympathy" is analogous to ordinary empathy and variable in just the way empathy is, but a second, non-variable process, "extensive sympathy" is the source of our moral sentiments. In chapter two, I give an (...) account of Hume's understanding of ethical normativity in the Treatise, arguing that he holds that society, our intimate relationships, and even our ability to be actively concerned with our long-term interests all depend on our adopting extensive sympathy as a standard by which to regulate our character and our passions. The view of moral motivation which then emerges is one on which our moral sentiments play the role of redirecting our natural passions and desires. ;In chapters three and four, I consider the second Enquiry, arguing that what had changed by the time of that work was not primarily the doctrine of Hume's ethics, but his view of the project of writing moral philosophy. In the Treatise, Hume seeks to explain and justify moral standards and judgments, while in the second Enquiry Hume also seeks to inspire people to regulate their lives by those standards and judgments. Only if we are alert to Hume's project in the second Enquiry will we at last resolve debates over whether Hume abandoned the doctrine of sympathy by the time of that work. Similarly, we need to understand the project of that work if we are to understand the section therein on our "interested obligation to virtue," and the appendix to that work called, "A Dialogue." ;In concluding, I place Hume against the map of contemporary ethics, arguing that philosophers with a broad variety of non-Humean and Humean committments have reason to take Hume's ethics seriously, in part because the account of Hume's ethics for which I have argued changes the map of contemporary ethics. (shrink)

Dans Le Rouge et le Noir, les œuvres qui permettent aux personnages de se représenter leurs émotions ramènent parfois la singularité du sentir à un cliché. D’autres fois, elles sont une éducation du sentiment : elles prennent la valeur d’une découverte de soi à l’épreuve de modèles héroïques ou romanesques. D’autres fois encore, elles ont un pouvoir de révélation : investis par le désir, leurs scénarios paradigmatiques font sourdre à la conscience des aspirations jusque-là confuses. Le meilleur emploi qu’on puisse (...) en faire procède d’une connaturalité de l’érotique et de l’esthétique, les passions trouvant spontanément dans les arts un langage qui en saisit nuances et potentialités. (shrink)

Dans sa Théorie des sentiments moraux (1759), Adam Smith classe les passions en trois catégories : passions sociales, asociales, égoïstes. Cette classification résulte directement de leur capacité à susciter ou non la sympathie. Les passions sociales apparaissent ainsi comme les plus propres à susciter un écho sympathique. La question à laquelle tente de répondre l'article est de savoir pourquoi ces mêmes passions sociales sont qualifiées par A. Smith de « naturellement musicales ». L'utilisation du concept de sympathie dans le (...) domaine musical est fréquente aux XVIIème et XVIIIème siècles, mais l'hypothèse avancée ici est que le lien est plus profond chez A. Smith. La sympathie met en effet en évidence une qualité d'ordre à la fois esthétique et morale inhérente à certaines passions, leur « convenance » (propriety) par opposition aux passions « discordantes ». Ces passions, produisant une superposition d'échos sympathiques comparables aux harmoniques d'un ton fondamental, sont les plus susceptibles d'être imitées par la musique, si l'on tient compte de la théorie esthétique originale formulée par A. Smith, pour qui la beauté des arts imitatifs ne tient pas à l'illusion mais au contraire à l'écart entre l'imitation et son objet. (shrink)

Dans sa Théorie des sentiments moraux (1759), Adam Smith classe les passions en trois catégories : passions sociales, asociales, égoïstes. Cette classification résulte directement de leur capacité à susciter ou non la sympathie. Les passions sociales apparaissent ainsi comme les plus propres à susciter un écho sympathique. La question à laquelle tente de répondre l'article est de savoir pourquoi ces mêmes passions sociales sont qualifiées par A. Smith de « naturellement musicales ». L'utilisation du concept de sympathie dans le (...) domaine musical est fréquente aux XVIIème et XVIIIème siècles, mais l'hypothèse avancée ici est que le lien est plus profond chez A. Smith. La sympathie met en effet en évidence une qualité d'ordre à la fois esthétique et morale inhérente à certaines passions, leur « convenance » (propriety) par opposition aux passions « discordantes ». Ces passions, produisant une superposition d'échos sympathiques comparables aux harmoniques d'un ton fondamental, sont les plus susceptibles d'être imitées par la musique, si l'on tient compte de la théorie esthétique originale formulée par A. Smith, pour qui la beauté des arts imitatifs ne tient pas à l'illusion mais au contraire à l'écart entre l'imitation et son objet. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume's Moral Sentiments and the Structure of the Treatise LOUIS E. LOEB ACCORDING TO NORMAN KEMP SMITH and Thomas Hearn, Hume classified moral sentiments as direct passions.' According to Pb.II A,rdal, Hume classified the basic moral sentiments of approval and disapproval of persons as indirect passions. if either of these interpretations is correct, there is an intimate connection between Books II and 111 of Hume's Treatise. (...) This is because the direct and indirect passions (together with the will) are the subject of Book 11 and moral sentiments are discussed in Book 111. So if moral sentiments are special cases of either direct or indirect passions, the treatment of passions in Book Ii is central to the understanding of Book 111. 1 contend, on the contrary, that Hume's moral sentiments are neither direct nor indirect passions. Consequently, the connection between Books 11 and 111 of the Treatise is much less intimate than A,rdal and Hearn have recently suggested.' i. Hume's Classification of the Impressions of Reflection In the four paragraphs of II, i, I Hume provides an exhaustive "Division of the Subject"--the "subject" being "all the perceptions of the mind. ''4 Nowhere else in the Treatise is a complete "division" to be found. As A,rdal points out, such introductory chapters "are likely to be written after the bulk of the book has been completed, or at least to be carefully revised in the light of the main arguments in the book. ''~ For these reasons, there is a strong presumption that the "division" in!I, i, 1should be taken as canonical. Hume's "division" is straightforward. In the first paragraph, perceptions are divided into ideas and impressions; in the first and second paragraphs, impressions are divided into those of sensation and those of reflection; in the third paragraph, impressions of reflection are divided into the calm and the violent; in the fourth (as I am indebted to Wdham Frankena, Ronald Glossop, and Peter Jones for their most helpful comments. ' Norman Kemp Smith, The Philosophy of David Hume (New York: St. Martm'~ Press, 1966), pp. 167-168; and Thomas K. Hearn, Jr., "Ardal on the Moral Sentiments in Hume's rreattse," Phtlosophy 48 (1973):290. z Passton and Value m Hume's "Treatise" (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1966), pp. I 1, 109-133. For a discussion heavily influenced by Ardal, see Stewart R. Sutherland, "Hume on Morality and the Emotions," Phllosophwal Quarterly 26 (1976) : 14-19 especially. ' See Ardal, pp. I-5, 109-133; and Hearn, pp. 288, 292. 9 A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888), p. 275; hereafter cited as T followed by page number. 9 Ardal, p. 94. 13951 396 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY indicated by the last sentence of the third), the violent impressions of reflection are divided into the direct and the indirect. The structure is of a genus-species sort, and none of the distinctions cut across each other: J calm i sense of beauty and deformity (T, 276), moral sentiments impressions of reflection = emotions (secondary impressions) violent = passions direct indirect desire, aversion, grief, joy, pride, humility, love, hope, fear (T, 277, 439) hatred (T, 276-277) This classification is based upon the only natural reading of paragraph three and the first sentence of paragraph four of II, i, I. I quote this material, adding my own emphasis and deleting Hume's: The reflective impressions may be divided into two kinds, viz. the calm and the violent. Of the first kind is the sense of beauty and deformity in action, composition, and external objects. Of the second are the passions of love and hatred, grief and joy, pride and humility. This division is far from being exact. The raptures of poetry and music frequently rise to the greatest height; while those other impressions, properly called passions, may decay into so soft an emotion, as to become, in a manner, imperceptible. But as in general the passions are more violent than the emotions arising from beauty and deformity, these impressions have been commonly distinguish'd from each other. The subject of the human mind being so copious and various, I shall here take... (shrink)

The question of whether the phenomenon of passionate love is a natural phenomenon, as for naturalist psychologists, or rather a cultural product of Western civilization, was asked already by Nietzsche. This article deals with Denis de Rougemont’s essay L’amour et l’occident, in which the Swiss French intellectual answers the question decidedly in the sense of the second alternative. According to Rougement, passionate love finds its source in the movement of Catharism, which developed in Southern France in the 12th and 13th (...) centuries. Courtois love is expression of a transfigured love towards God combined with a gnostic disdain of the created world. The article also discusses the critiques that have been raised against Rougemont’s thesis, but emphasizes that Rougemont’s thesis has to be read at a higher level of explanatory abstraction than that of its critiques. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 26.1 (2002) 207-215 [Access article in PDF] Notes and Fragments Poetics of Sentimentality Rick Anthony Furtak IN HIS MAJOR WORK, The Passions, Robert Solomon argues that emotions are judgments. 1 Through a series of persuasive examples, he shows that emotions are best understood as mental states which involve certain beliefs about the world. This means that every emotion has an object: if I am angry at (...) John for stealing my car, the object of my anger is the fact (or what I take to be a fact) that my car has been stolen by John. If I find out that this is not the case, that my car has not even left the garage, then my anger should vanish along with its justification. 2 The key point here is that anger, like any other emotion, may be reasonable or inappropriate depending on the situation. If there is nothing to be angry about, then it would be irrational for me to cultivate anger simply because I enjoy having this particular emotion. In general, emotional responses are cognitively flawed whenever they are at odds with the properties of their objects. If we want our judgments to be realistic and not delusional, then we must avoid this kind of error.It is curious, then, that Solomon has written an essay in which he categorically declares that "there is nothing wrong with sentimentality." 3 For it would appear that his theory of emotion provides precisely the terms needed in order to specify what is wrong with it. If emotions are judgments, then "sentimentality" ought to be an important critical term to designate the habit of having emotions that involve either impaired or mistaken judgment. Nevertheless, Solomon is willing to defend any and every episode of tender emotion, of the kind associated with the [End Page 207] death of Little Nell in The Old Curiosity Shop (S, p. 240). He suggests that the more we can muster up this sort of response to literature or life, the better. What he seeks to encourage, in other words, is what Hume would call "delicacy" of (aesthetic) taste and of (ethical) passion. 4 But while Hume acknowledges that sensitivity to beauty and to ugliness are two sides of the same coin, such that anyone who is susceptible to lively enjoyments is also liable to undergo pungent sorrows, Solomon wants to promote only the tender aspect of emotion.On the principle of passionate maximization, it is good if I can be tenderly affected by a poem—any poem! The problem with such crass emotion-stoking is that it precludes the possibility of distinguishing between, for instance, the two stanzas below. Both are by Wilfred Owen: the first was written in 1914 and the second in 1918. 5 I O meet it is and passing sweet To live in peace with others, But sweeter still and far more meet To die in war for brothers. II Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind. Only if emotions did not involve rational judgment could a person's passionate response to these two stanzas be a matter of indifference. But it seems that, on the contrary, an essential component of understanding them is recognizing that they express irreconcilable cognitive attitudes. The tone of the 1918 stanza is strikingly different from that of the earlier one, even though they share roughly the same topic. The latter stanza is stark and ominous, and filled with vivid detail; the one from 1914 is sweet and vague. Clearly, we might describe the earlier of the two as "sentimental"—the question is, what kind of judgment does [End Page 208] it involve? I suggest that its insipid jingles endorse the view that war is a delightful opportunity to nurture brotherhood and gain... (shrink)

Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas...Mais que serait une Raison sans cœur? Un pur formalisme désaffecté! Rompant avec le logicisme et l'associationnisme de son temps, Ribot refuse de voir dans la logique des sentiments un déchet ou une scorie. Il la décrit comme une organisation originaire de la pensée en tant que celle-ci est animée par un jeu d'instincts, de tendances, de passions, de désirs. Mais la logique des sentiments ne se limite pas (...) à sa fonction de projection ou de rationalisation des valeurs subjectives à coefficient émotionnel vital. Elle est aussi à l'œuvre au cœur de l'imagination créatrice et de son élan. Ainsi assistons-nous, dans cet essai, à l'entrée en force du point du vue dynamique dans l'étude des productions mentales. Le philosophe, le psychologue, le psychanalyste peuvent toujours y apurer leur savoir. (shrink)

The enumeration of the “principal passions” in the articles 53 to 67 of the Passions of the Soul is generally regarded as laborious and unclear. This article opposes to this view and proposes elements to make sense of Descartes’ enumerative procedure. First, it clarifies the nature and function of what is called “ordered enumeration”: it amounts to a methodical act of collecting which must not be confused with a cognitive sequence based on determinate principles. The article also suggests that the (...) paragraph 52 of the Passions provides relevant indications to account for the structure of Descartes’ discourse. Indeed, different ordering criteria can be deduced from the under­standing of what the emotional object is, and from Descartes’ emotional subject as a “mind-body union” put into motion by passion. The article finally insists on Descartes’ main novelty: his forty “principal passions” are not exclusively centered on the ego and his desire; on the contrary, the enumeration makes room for other human beings who, being emotional subjects in their own right, play an active role in the develop­ment of the subject’s sentimental experience. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume on Tranquillizing the Passions John Immerwahr Borrowingafragmentfrom thelyric poetArchilochus, Sir IsaiahBerlin once divided thinkers into two categories: foxes, who know many things; and hedgehogs, who know only one, "one big thing."1 Although Berlin does not include Hume in either list, it is tempting to put him with the foxes. Indeed, Hume's corpus is brilliantly eclectic, ranging with equal facility over an impressive array of seemingly diverse subjects such (...) as epistemology, ethics, political science, religion, psychology, history, criticism, economics, and demography. Many of Hume's admirers have not even attempted to find a unity here, and Hume's less generous critics have attributed this diversity to an incessant hunger for "literary fame" which supposedly led Hume from topic to topic, always searching for popular acclaim and recognition.2 The dazzling diversity of Hume's thinking has obscured some important underlying themes; Hume is more of a hedgehog than he initially appears. At the centre of many of Hume's discussions is a recurring conviction about the nature of human well-being and the means to obtain it. This insistence—which can be found in each stage ofHume's career and in writings on virtually every topic—provides one way of finding an overarching unity to his thought and invites us to rethink some ofthe conventional wisdom about Hume. In this essay I argue that many of Hume's investigations are informed by his early distinction between calm and violent passions. Wherever we turn we find Hume insisting that people arehappiest and governments are most stable when emotional calmness prevails. Hume alsohas astrategy, which Icall "moderation through opposition," which is designedto"tranquillize and soften"the passions.3 This strategy also becomes a stylistic principle which informs Hume's own writing, especially his popular works. This essay begins with a brief discussion of the calm/violent distinction itself. I then sketch out the role ofcalm passions in Hume's treatment of rationality, happiness, morality, politics and religion. Next I turn from Hume's diagnosis to his proposed cure, and discuss the strategy that Hume presents for enhancing the calm passions; indeed, Hume's writing style itselfis often designed to implement this strategy. I then discuss the context of Hume's insight, arguing that while it grows out of a cosmopolitan continental paradigm of using Volume XVIII Number 2 293 JOHN IMMERWAHR passions to oppose passions, Hume's own use ofit is tailored to rather specific features of the political and intellectual life of eighteenth centuryEdinburgh. The essay concludesby discussingthe implications of these findings for reading ofHume's works. Passions: Calm and Violent One characteristic feature of the thinkers of the "Scottish Enlightenment" was a desire tofound moral concepts in a scientific and empirical understanding ofhuman nature, rather than upon abstract conceptions of virtue and justice.4 These thinkers were particularly interestedin non-cognitivistelements ofhuman nature, such as"taste," "sentiment" and the "passions,"5 and they were also interested in discriminatingamongthe feelings and passions to discover those which were most beneficial to the individual or society. One Scottish philosopher who was particularly influential upon Hume in this connection was Francis Hutcheson. In discussing the passions, Hutcheson distinguished between what he called the "calm desire of good" and the "particular passions towards objects immediately presented to the senses." Hutcheson noted that these calm desires were frequently powerful enough to conquer particular passions such as "lust or revenge."6 The calm passions are thus very important to our understanding ofhuman motivation. As in so many other things, Hume also appears to be influenced by Hutcheson on the existence and importance of "calm passions." Early in Treatise 2, Hume expands on Hutcheson's idea that our experience ofan emotion or passion can be described as either "calm" or "violent"7 (also "soft" or "tender," "rough" or "fierce").8 The main difference between calmness and violence has to do with the intensity with which a passion is experienced. When we experience violent passions we feel an "uneasiness" (T 418) and sometimes "disorders and agitations" (E 17).9 Other passions are "calm" in that they cause "no disorder in the soul" and "little emotion in the mind" (T 417).10 Hume's main point is that... (shrink)

In the Treatise, Hume writes several seemingly incompatible things about the moral sentiments, thus there is no general agreement about where they fit within his taxonomy of the perceptions. Some passages speak in favor of the view that moral sentiments are indirect passions, a few in favor of the view that they are direct passions, and yet a couple of explicit statements strongly suggest otherwise. Due to these tensions in Hume’s text, we find at least five competing characterizations (...) in the literature: • Moral sentiments are calm emotions. • Moral sentiments are calm direct passions. • Moral sentiments are calm versions of the indirect passions of love or hatred. • Moral sentiments are unique species of calm indirect passions. • Moral sentiments are indirect secondary impressions. This paper assesses each of these interpretations. When their virtues are brought together, a new interpretation of the origin of moral sentiments starts to emerge. (shrink)

I Once gave a series of talks to a group of psychoanalysts who had trained together and was rather struck by the statement made by one of them that, psychologically speaking, ‘reason’ means saying ‘No’ to oneself. Plato, of course, introduced the concept of ‘reason’ in a similar way in The Republic with the case of the thirsty man who is checked in the satisfaction of his thirst by reflection on the outcome of drinking. But Plato was also so impressed (...) by man's ability to construct mathematical systems by reasoning that he called it the divine element of the soul. And what has this ability to do with that of saying ‘No’ to oneself? And what have either of these abilities to do with the disposition to be impartial which is intimately connected with our notion of a reasonable man, or with what David Hume called a ‘wonderful and unintelligible instinct’ in our souls by means of which men are able to make inferences from past to future?It must readily be admitted that there are few surface similarities between the uses of ‘reason’ in these contexts. No obvious features protrude which might be fastened on as logically necessary conditions for the use of the term ‘reason’. But beneath the surface there may be lurking common notions that are, or can be, of importance in our lives. To make them explicit is to give structure and substance to what is often called ‘the life of reason’ and to show that this is not inconsistent with a life of passion as is often thought. This seems eminently worth attempting at a time when many people seem hostile to reason. For those who demand instant gratification, who adopt some existentialist stance, who cultivate violence or mystical experience, or who merely do what others do, are all, in various ways, resisting the claims of reason on them. And what they are resisting is not just the demand that they should reflect and calculate; it is also the influence of passions and sentiments that underlie a form of life. (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)

This chapter contains section titled: Introductory Remarks The Cartesian Background Impressions and Ideas Passions as Reflective Impressions Direct and Indirect Passions Association and the Individuation of Passions Perception and Perceiving Passions and Moral Sentiments Notes References Further reading.

This book contends that when late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century writers sought to explain the origins of emotions, they often discovered that their feelings may not really have been their own. It explores the paradoxes of representing feelings in philosophy, aesthetic theory, gender ideology, literature, and popular sentimentality, and it argues that this period's obsession with sentimental, wayward emotion was inseparable from the dilemmas resulting from attempts to locate the origins of feelings in experience. The book shows how these epistemological (...) dilemmas became gendered by studying a series of extravagantly affective scenes in works by Hume, Wordsworth, Charlotte Smith, and Jane Austen. Making its argument through a provocative conjunction of texts that range across genres and genders and across the divide between the eighteenth century and Romanticism, Strange Fits of Passion rediscovers the relationship of empiricism to the culture of sentimentality, and the significance of emotion to Romanticism. (shrink)

This lecture examines Alexander Pope's depictions of passion and sentiment in a range of early writings, including his ‘Prologue’ to Addison's Cato, Eloisa to Abelard and An Essay on Man. It then shows how often Pope belittled his own forays into affectivity and relates that tendency to a wider interest in ‘sceptical perspectivism’. The presence of the latter is traced in other works such as John Gay's Trivia, Bernard Mandeville's Fable of the Bees and the 3rd Earl of Shaftesbury's Characteristics, (...) all of which – the last especially – are invoked to explain the dialogic methods employed in Pope's Rape of the Lock and his Dunciad Variorum. Finally, the argument suggests that, despite suffering a loss of self-confidence in the mid-1730s, Pope was able to recover his satirical idiom precisely by fusing his passionate and dialogic concerns in the Epilogue to the Satires of 1738. (shrink)

For a long time Hume's philosophical achievement was judged almost entirely by Book I of the Treatise. A major contribution of Kemp Smith's work on Hume was the insistence that the epistemological doctrines of Book I were essentially related to the ethical theory of Book III. Recent moral philosophy has found Book III to be of considerable intrinsic interest and relevance to current problems. It is now becoming apparent, however, that Hume's ethical theory is intimately bound up with the philosophy (...) of mind in Book II. This new emphasis upon the significance of Book II for Hume's ethics derives from Dr Pall S. Árdal's book Passion and Value in Hume's Treatise. In view of Árdal's influence on continuing study in this field—witness the recent book by Philip Mercer—it becomes important to point out what I take to be a major error in one part of Árdal's analysis of the relationship between Hume's philosophy of mind and his moral theory. (shrink)

" Eh bien, mon cher, buvons ce champagne à la santé du démoniaque et du destinal, car je crois que nous avons trouvé là les deux concepts dont nous avions besoin pour fonder cette fameuse science de l'amour dont les hommes rêvent depuis plusieurs millénaires. Oui, oui, Platon déjà tâtonnait, Ovide s'essayait, Stendhal s'approchait, mais nous, eh bien, nous pouvons le dire en toute simplicité : nous avons trouvé. " Un homme parle à son clone. Il le tutoie. Il est (...) si proche de lui, il le connaît si bien, qu'il peut imaginer ses pensées dans le détail. C'est comme s'il se parlait à lui-même, mais plus jeune. Comme s'il tutoyait son passé. De quoi parlent-ils? De la passion, de la passion amoureuse. Le sentiment amoureux, point de départ des couples humains, résulte, disent-ils, de deux instincts fondamentaux : le démoniaque, qui désigne tout ce qui relève de la séduction, du plaisir immédiat, de la jouissance ; le destinal, qui désigne tout ce qui relève d'une préoccupation du devenir, de l'inquiétude sur la pérennité du sentiment, sur son avenir. Au fil de leur conversation, ils tentent de repérer, dans diverses circonstances de l'existence, ces deux dimensions de la passion, de suivre leurs dialogues, leurs associations durables ou passagères, les conséquences de la victoire de l'une sur l'autre. (shrink)

For a long time Hume's philosophical achievement was judged almost entirely by Book I of the Treatise . A major contribution of Kemp Smith's work on Hume was the insistence that the epistemological doctrines of Book I were essentially related to the ethical theory of Book III. Recent moral philosophy has found Book III to be of considerable intrinsic interest and relevance to current problems. It is now becoming apparent, however, that Hume's ethical theory is intimately bound up with the (...) philosophy of mind in Book II. This new emphasis upon the significance of Book II for Hume's ethics derives from Dr Pall S. Árdal's book Passion and Value in Hume's Treatise . In view of Árdal's influence on continuing study in this field—witness the recent book by Philip Mercer—it becomes important to point out what I take to be a major error in one part of Árdal's analysis of the relationship between Hume's philosophy of mind and his moral theory. (shrink)

Hume holds that the moral sentiments are distinguished from other passions of the mind by two features among others: (1) that they are caused by the character of an agent, and (2) that they arise only when this character is viewed disinterestedly. this paper is an attempt to discover hume's reasons for believing that these features are true of the moral sentiments, and what i argue is, first, that hume believes that these features are required to account for (...) certain features of our actual moral views but, second, that his arguments are successful only if these features of our moral views are taken as logical and not merely contingent features. (shrink)