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Doctoral Dissertations 1896 - February 2014

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General rule in the philosophy of David Hume.

Marie Ann Martin
University of Massachusetts Amherst

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 GENERAL RULE IN THE PHILOSOPHY

OF DAVID HUME

A Dissertation Presented

By

MARIE ANN MARTIN

Submitted to the Graduate School of the

University of Massachusetts in partial fulfillment
of the requirements for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

February 1987

Philosophy
Marie A. Martin

All Rights Reserved

i i
 GENERAL RULES IN THE PHILOSOPHY OF DAVID
HUME

A Dissertation Presented

By

MARIE ANN MARTIN

Approved as to style and content by:

ruce A. Aune, Chairman of Committee

Vere C. Chappell, Member

Garbth B. Matthews, Member

William E.

/.

y X,-
Michael Jubien, Department Head

iii
 ABSTRACT
General Rules in the Philosophy of David
Hume
(February 1987)
Marie Ann Martin, B.A. , Brandeis University
M.A., Northern Illinois University

Ph . D . , University of Massachusetts
Directed by: Professor Bruce A. Aune

Hume refers to general rules throughout the three books

of the Treat i se . It is clear that these rules play an im-

portant role, for him, in the formation of both causal and
moral judgments, and in the genesis or direction of the pas-

sions. Also, his theory of justice is based on an elaborate

hierarchy of general rules. Yet, in spite of the pervasive

presence of general rules in his philosophy, he never offers

a detailed analysis of their nature and their contribution

the human understanding. Fortunately, when his various
references to general rules and scattered remarks about them

are pieced together, one has an ample basis for constructing

a coherent and unified account of their nature and the role

they play in the interlocking theories that Hume develops in

the Treatise . My principal aim in this work is to construct

such an account. In doing so, I try to show how Hume's

views on general rules provide important insights into a

number of aspects of his philosophy, particularly his natu-

ralism, his views on rational method, and his skepticism.

iv
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduct ion

Chapter

I. HUME ON THE UNDERSTANDING

Judgment

Belief

Imagination

Custom

II. THE FORMATION AND STRUCTURE OF GENERAL RULES

48

III. REASON AND SKEPTICISM 80

The Normative Authority of General Rules 80

The Skeptical Limits of General Rules 93

IV. GENERAL RULES AND THE PASSIONS 123

V. GENERAL RULES AND OBJECTIVE VALUE 145

The "Just Value" of Objects 145

The Moral Sentiments 158

The Rules of Justice '.

170

VI. CONCLUSION.... 191

BIBLIOGRAPHY 199

APPENDIX 202

V
 INTRODUCTION

Hume refers to general rules throughout

the three books
of the Treatise. It is clear that these rules play an im-
portant regulative role, for him, in the formation of both
causal and moral judgments, and in the genesis
or direction
of the passions. Also, his theory of justice is based on an

elaborate hierarchy of general rules. Yet, in spite of the

pervasive presence of general rules in his philosophy, he
never offers a detailed analysis of their nature and their
contribution to the human understanding. Fortunately, when
his various references to general rules and scattered re-
marks about them are pieced together, one has an ample basis

for constructing a coherent and unified account of their na-

ture and the role they play in the interlocking theories

that Hume develops in the Treatise . My principal aim in

what follows IS to construct such an account. In doing so,

I try to show how Hume's views on general rules provide im-

portant insights into a number of aspects of his philosophy,

particularly his naturalism, his views on reason and ratio-

nal method, and his skepticism.

To provide the basic background material necessary to

appreciate the specific function of general rules in the

Treatise , I begin with a general discussion of the distinc-

tive features of Hume's theory of the understanding. This

preliminary discussion will constitute Chapter I. In Chap-

1
ter II, I provide a detailed analysis of the structure and
formation of the general rules associated
(in Hume's view)
with causal judgment. m Chapter ill, i discuss the justi-
fication of general rules and its relation
to Hume's skepti-
cism "with regard to reason". Finally, in Chapters IV and
V, examine the role of general rules in three
I
other areas
of Hume's philosophy: the passions, morals, and the theory
of justice.

2
 CHAPTER I

HUME ON THE UNDERSTANDING

In a work on Hume's theory of general rules,

a chapter
devoted to Hume's theory of the understanding
requires some
explanation. Apart from the general benefits of viewing

particular aspects of a philosopher's work in

light of a
more comprehensive framework, I have two more specific rea-
sons for approaching the topic in this manner. First, the
formation and functioning of general rules depends on the
various mechanisms detailed in Hume's discussion of judg-
ment, belief, imagination, and custom. Thus, it is impossi-
ble to explain the operation of general rules without first

explaining these features of Hume's theory of the under-

standing. Yet simply understanding how general rules oper-
ate does not help us to understand the important role of
general rules in Hume's philosophy. Thus, my second reason

for devoting a chapter to the discussion of the basic ele-

ments of Hume's theory of the understanding is to provide

the background material necessary for understanding and for
appreciating the importance of this role.

Judgment

Hume's view of the understanding is, in part, a devel-

opment of the Cartesian or, more specifically, the Male-

3
branchian theory of natural judgments. According to the
Cartesians, natural judgments depend entirely
on human phys-
iology. As they saw it, such judgments supply only very
limited truths about objects, indicating at best the rela-
tion of objects to our bodies. Their general view was that,
to enable us to preserve our bodies, God fashioned
us with
the ability to make natural judgments about things in our
immediate environment. Our knowledge of the real nature of
these things is not derived, they thought, from our natural
judgments; it is attained by the intellect or pure under-
standing. According to Descartes, the ideas of the intel-
lect are innate; according to Malebranche, they are ideal
archetypes in the mind of God, which our pure understanding

directly apprehends. In either case our natural judgments

are regulated and corrected by these "intellectual" ideas.

Hume's account of the understanding differs from these

views i dispensing entirely with the faculty of the pure

understanding or intellect. According to him, we possess no
such faculty. His conviction on this point leaves him with

the task of providing an alternative explanation of how we

are able to regulate and correct those low-level judgments

that the Cartesians termed "natural". He aimed to accom-

plish this task in a thoroughly naturalistic way; the key

elements in the mechanism he described were general rules.

Although Hume continued to speak of judgments, he re-

jected the received view of them expounded in the Port Royal

4
Logi£. [11 He described that view as dividing the "acts of
the understanding into conception
, judgment and reasoning ":
Conception is defin'd to be the simple
survey of one or more ideas: Judgment to
be the separating or uniting of differ-
ent ideas: Reasoning to be the separat-
ing or uniting of different ideas by the
interposition of others, which show the
relation they bear to each other. [2]
Hume did not deny that there are differences between
what we call 'conception', 'judgment', and 'reasoning'; but
he did deny that the differences are as indicated
here.
Hume was convinced that a judgment need not involve
more than one idea. in judgments of existence, such as "God
is", existence is not a separate idea joined to the idea of
God. "To reflect on anything simply, and to reflect on it
as existent, are nothing different from each other ... .What-
ever we conceive, we conceive to be existent " (p. 67) . Fur-
thermore, "we may exert our reason without employing more
than two ideas, and without having recourse to a third to
serve as a medium betwixt them" (p 97n) . . Causal inference,
for example, is "a true species of reasoning", yet in causal

inference we "infer a cause immediately from its

ef feet . .
.
" (p. 97n) . Hume concluded that "these three acts of

the underst anding . . . al 1 resolve themselves into the first,

and are nothing but particular ways of conceiving our ob-

jects.... The act of mind exceeds not a simple

conception" (p.97n) . [3]

5
 The relevant distinction does not
concern the number of
Ideas involved in the conception
or how they are joined and
separated, but the manner of their
conception. "The only
remarkable difference, which occurs... is when we join be-
lief to the conception, and are perswaded of the truth of
what we conceive" (p.97n) . The difference between the "sim-
ple conception" of God and the judgment
that God exists is
not one of content. Both involve one and the same idea.
The difference is that in the judgment "God
exists" the idea
of God is conceived in a different manner. This different
manner of conception is, according to Hume, belief.
A judg-
ment IS simply a belief and a belief is a particular manner
of forming a conception.

To avoid confusion, there is a final point about judg-

ments that should be kept in mind in what follows. Hume
repeatedly refers to judgments as "acts of mind", leaving no

doubt that he views judging as a form of mental activity.

His practice here is entirely in keeping with his view that

belief is a manner of conception. Judgments are therefore

not, for Hume, what philosophers nowadays call "prop-
ositions". When Hume speaks of judgments, he is referring
to specific sorts of mental acts involving conceptions or
beliefs; he is not referring to sentences, abstract objects,

or anything approximating contemporary views of prop-

ositions. This point might seem fairly obvious, but it has

been overlooked or ignored by a surprising number of commen-

6
 .

tators In the Appendix, i shall, in fact, examine a number

of criticisms of Hume that treat his comments about judq-
ments as though they were comments about
propositions. My
aim in mentioning this sort of error here is to alert the
reader to it and thereby avoid any problems that may
arise
from mistakes of this sort.

Belief

There are difficulties in presenting Hume's theory of

belief. Not only does he make a number of different and
apparently incompatible claims about the nature of belief in

the text of the Treatise but, in the appendix, he presents

what appears to be yet another, equally incompatible view.
At least part of the difficulty can be attributed to prob-

lems with Hume's style. As numerous commentators have

pointed out, Hume's method of presentation in the Treatise

is often very misleading and likely to bewilder an unpre-

pared reader. [4] Often the problem lies in Hume's present-

ing a highly simplified account of some basic doctrine with-

out indicating to the reader that it is a simplified ac-

count. As the Treatise progresses, he fills in the original

account, often a bit at a time, forcing the reader to con-

tinually read the later additions back into the initial ac-

count . [ 5]

This is certainly true of Hume's account of belief.

7
But it would be a mistake to assume that the problems
with
interpreting Hume's account can be
attributed wholly to sty-
listic infelicities. Hume's initial account was not merely
simplified; it was inadequate. in dealing with its inade-
quacies, Hume was forced to make significant changes. The
end result of these changes was an account of belief that
was incompatible with his initial account. This final and
considered account is presented in the appendix to the
Treatise .

The best way to avoid confusion about Hume's

theory of
belief is to trace its development, noting the
problems and
ambiguities that led to modifications and, eventually, to
the reformulation of the theory in the appendix.

Hume s initial account of belief is introduced in the

middle of his discussion of causal inferences. He is at-
tempting to explain how we form beliefs about objects that
are not present to the memory or senses. His answer is that
we form such beliefs as a result of causal inference. Caus-
al inference, in turn, is the result of our experience of a

"constant conjunction" between objects.

We have no other notion of cause and ef-

fect, but that of certain objects, which
have always conjoin'd together, and
which in all past instances have been
found inseparable. We cannot penetrate
into the reason of the conjunction. We
only observe the thing itself, and al-
ways find that from a constant conjunc-
tion the objects acquire an union in the
imagination. When the impression of one

8
 .

becomes present to us, we immediately

form an idea of its usual attendant;
and
consequently we may establish this as
one part of the definition of an
opinion
or belief, that 'tis and idea related
to
or associated with a present
im-
pression. (p. 93)

While this explains how we arrive at the idea of an

absent object, it does not explain our belief.
Obviously we
can have an idea or conception without believing
it. Belief
IS more than a mere idea. But, Hume asks, "wherein consists
the difference betwixt believing and disbelieving
any prop-
osition?” In cases of knowledge, Hume claims, the answer is
clear

The answer is easy with regard to prop-

ositions, that are prov'd by intuition
or demonstration.... The person, who
assents not only conceives the ideas ac-
cording to the proposition, but is nec-
essarily determin'd to conceive them in
that particular manner... Whatever is
absurd is unintelligible, nor is it pos-
sible for the imagination to conceive
any thing contrary to a de-
monstration. (p. 95)

In fact, the answer cannot be as simple as Hume claims,

as his comments in later sections make clear. In part VI,

section 1, Hume claims:

In all the demonstrative sciences

the rules are certain and infallible;
but when we apply them, our fallible and
uncertain faculties are very apt to de-
part from them, and fall into error. We
must, therefore, in every reasoning,
form a new judgment, as a check or con-

9
 troul on our first judgment or
lief
be-
(p. 180)

Clearly people sometimes make judgments

such as 7+5=11. But
If judgment is simply a manner of
conceiving, and it is "im-
possible for the imagination to conceive
any thing contrary
to a demonstration," it is not at all clear just what a
person is doing when he makes such false judgments as
^ suspect that Kemp Smith was essentially correct
in his observation of Hume's early comments on the distinc-
tion between knowledge and belief.

In distinguishing between knowledge and

belief, what chiefly interests Hume is
the use to which he proposes to put the
distinction, namely, as delimiting the
sphere of knowledge. So long as this is
achieved and in the rough it is
—
achieved the nature and grounds of
'ideal' knowledge need only be indicat-
ed; and though this too may be said to
have been achieved, the last thing which
we need to look for in this section is
any really consistent statement of the
grounds upon which the fundamental dis-
tinction rests. [6]

At any rate, Hume supposes that the situation is dif-

ferent with non-demonstrative judgments. "In reasonings
from causation, and concerning matters of fact, this abso-
lute necessity cannot take place, and the imagination is

free to conceive both sides of the quest ion" (p. 95). While

both sides are conceived or understood, only one side is

believed. According to Hume, belief is distinguished from

10
mere conception by its degree of force
and vivacity His
first full account of belief is
presented as follows:

All the perceptions of the mind

are
of two kinds, viz., impressions and
Ideas, which differ from each other
only
in their different degrees of
force and
vivacity. Our ideas are cop'd from our
impressions, and represent them in all
their parts. When you wou d any way '

vary the idea of a particular object,

you can only encrease or diminish
its
force and vivacity. if you make any
other change on it, it represents a dif-
ferent object or impression.... So that
as belief does nothing but vary the man-
ner, in which we conceive any object, it
can only bestow on our ideas an addi-
tional force and vivacity. An opinion,
therefore, or belief may be most accu-
rately defin'd, A LIVELY IDEA RELATED TO
OR ASSOCIATED WITH A PRESENT IM-
PRESSION. (p. 96)

There are two parts to this initial definition. A be-

lieved idea is (1) lively and (2) associated with a present
impression. The parts are related because the liveliness of

a believed idea is "transferred" or "communicated" from the

impression to its associated idea. "When any impression be-

comes present to us, it not only transports the mind to such

ideas as are related to it, but likewise communicates to

them a share of its force and vivacity" (p. 98). Consequent-

ly, "when the mind is once enliven'd by a present impres-
sion, It proceeds to form a more lively idea of the related

objects, by a natural transition. .." (p. 99).

Having defined belief, Hume is immediately faced with a

11
problem. An impression may give rise
to an associated idea
by any of the three associative
relations: resemblance, con-
tiguity or cause and effect.
But an idea related to a pre-
sent impression by resemblance
or contiguity is usually not
a belief. Hume presents the problem as follows:

For it may be said, that if all

parts of that hypothesis be true, the
viz.,
that these three species of relations
are deriv'd from the same principles;
their effects in inforcing and in-
livening our ideas are the same; and
belief is nothing but a more forci-
ble and vivid conception of an idea, it
shou'd follow, that that action of the
mind may not only be deriv'd from the
relation of cause and effect, but also
from those of contiguity and resem-
blance. But we find by experience, that
belief arises only from causat ion. . (p.
^ . .
107) .

Hume s solution to this problem is complex; fortunate-

ly, a detailed account is not necessary for present pur-
poses. Essentially, his reply is that, in causal associa-
tion, the mind feels determined to form a particular type of

idea upon experiencing a certain type of impression. But

there is no manner of necessity for the mind to feign any

resembling and contiguous objects, and if it feigns such,

there is as little necessity for it always to confine itself

to the same, without any difference or variat ion" (p. 109).

Because the associative principles of resemblance and conti-

guity are "fluctuating and uncertain", they can never "oper-

ate with any considerable degree of force and constancy" (p.

12
109 ) .

This solution requires a modification in Hume's origi-

nal definition. if, in fact, ideas related to a present im-
pression by resemblance and contiguity
are not beliefs, then
It IS more accurate to say
that belief is a lively idea
— related to or associated with a
present impression.
Yet this definition also runs into
difficulties. Hume has
made the manner of production part
of the very definition of
belief. This means that nay idea or conception
that is not
causally associated with a present impression could not be a
belief. But, once Hume shifts his attention away
from caus-
al inference, he is forced to modify his view once again,
for he admits that there are beliefs that do
not result from
causal association with a present impression.
In the sections following the one where the initial
definition appears, Hume introduces various types of belief

that do not depend on causal association. For instance,

Hume admits that beliefs produced from education (what we
would call indoctrination) arise "without any of [the] curi-

ous and almost artificial preparation required for the in-

ference of causal reasoning" (p. 116). Beliefs arising from
such "education" depend on custom (repetition) but they do
not depend on the observed constant conjunction of objects

or the impression of similiar objects. There are also be-

liefs that do not even depend on custom, for instance, the

beliefs that arise from madness or "poetical enthusiasm".

13
 ^en the imagination, from any extraor-
dinary ferment of the blood and
spirits,
acquires such a vivacity as disorders
all Its powers and faculties,
there is
no means of distinguishing betwixt
and falsehood; but every loose truth
fiction
or idea, having the same influence
as
the impressions of the memory, or
the
conclusions of the judgment, is receiv'd
on the same footing, and operates
with
equal force on the passions. A present
impression and customary transition are
now no longer necessary to inliven our
ideas ....
We may observe the same effect of
poetry in a lesser degree; only with
this difference, that the least reflec-
tion dissipates the illusions of poet-
ry.. . 'Tis, however, certain, that in
.

the warmest of poetical enthusiasms, a

poet has a counterfeit belief, and even
a kind of vision of his objects
(p.
^
123)

Hume has clearly abandoned the view that the manner of

production is part of the nature of belief. He is left with

what was initially the 'first' part of his definition: be-
lief is a lively idea. But this aspect of Hume's theory is

also the source of considerable problems. It is not at all

clear what Hume means. In various passages Hume seems to
suggest four different and incompatible views: (1) belief is
equivalent to a lively idea; (2) the liveliness of an idea
produces belief; (3) belief produces the liveliness of an

idea; and (4) "lively" is simply a way of characterizing or

describing a believed idea. In early passages Hume clearly

states that the liveliness of an idea is, at least in part.

14
What constitutes a belief. "An opinion ... or belief may
be
most accurately defin'd, A lively
idea related to or assocl -
£t^ a Eresent impression " (p.
96). "Belief is a more
Vivid and intense conception of an
idea...”(p. 103) "Be- .

lief IS no thing
^ a strong and lively idea

But, in later sections, Hume

..."(p. 105) .

implies that, at least on most

occasions, beliefs are not equivalent
to lively ideas but,
rather, produced by the liveliness of
ideas. in contrast-
ing beliefs produced by causal
inference with beliefs
arising from education, Hume states that,
with beliefs pro-
duced by education, Hume states that, with
beliefs arising
from education, "we must not be contented
with saying, that
the vividness of the idea produces belief.
We must maintain
that they are individually the same” (p. 116).

Elsewhere, Hume implies that belief produces the live-

liness of the idea:

The effect, then, of belief is to raise

us a simple idea to an equality with our
impressions, and bestow on it a like in-
fluence on the passions. This effect is
can only have by making a idea approach
an impression in force and vivacity....
Belief, therefore, since it causes an
idea to imitate the effects of the im-
pression, must make it resemble them in
these qualities. ... (p. 119-20).

On the basis of the text alone it is impossible to de-

cide which, if any, of these three views represent Hume's

original view. But, by referring to Hume's appendix ac-

15
 :

count, it possible to determine his final

is
and considered
opinion on how his earlier
comments are to be Interpreted.
I shall now turn to
the appendix account.

Recall that
Hume originally argued that the
only dif-
ference between ideas and
impressions is their different de-
grees of force and vivacity. This
led him to claim that the
only difference there could be between
a mere conception and
a belief is a difference
in the force and vivacity of the
Ideas involved in the conception.
In the appendix, Hume ac-
knowledges a fundamental error in his
original argument, an
error which, he says, "more mature
reflection has discover'd
to me in my reasoning" (p. 636).
His description is as fol-
lows

The error ... may be found in Book I,

page 96 where I say, that two ideas of
the same object can only be different by
their different degrees of force and vi-
vacity. I believe there are other dif-
ferences among ideas, which cannot pro-
perly be comprehended under these terms.
Had I said, that two ideas of the same
object can only be different by their
different feeling I shou'd have been
,

nearer to the truth. (p. 636)

In abandoning the view that the only difference between

an idea and its corresponding impression is the latter's de-

gree of force and vivacity, Hume is repudiating his initial

argument leading to his definition of belief as a lively

idea related to a present impression. He is, then, free to
offer a different account of the nature of belief and this

16
IS exactly what he does in the
appendix. According to his
appendix account, belief consists in a particular sort of
feeling. Hume does not mean that belief
is a distinct im-
pression joined to an idea. He describes this erroneous
view as follows:

Belief, beside the simple con-

ception, consists in some impression or
feeling, distinguishable from the con-
ception. It does not modify the concep-
tion and render it more present and in-
tense: is only annex'd to it after
It
the same manner that will and desire are
annex'd to particular conceptions of
good and pleasure (p. 625)

Hume offers four reasons for rejecting this view.

First, "it is directly contrary to experience, and
our imme-
diate consciousness" (p. 625). Reasoning is "an operation of
our thoughts or ideas" and "nothing ever enters into our
conclusions but ideas..." (p, 625). When I hear a friend's
voice in the hall, l conclude that he is in the hall. This
conclusion contains only ideas. These ideas are "different
to the feeling; but there is no distinct or separate impres-

sion attending them"(p. 625).

This case can be contrasted with cases where there is a

distinct impression or feeling attending an idea. Suppose I

am in doubt about some particular matter of fact. Along

with the conception, I have a feeling of uneasiness. I am

then presented with an argument that resolves the doubt. I

17
arrive at a belief and feel satisfaction. The uneasiness
and satisfaction are particular feelings
distinct from and
added to the conception.

Hume's other reasons for rejecting

the view that belief
involves a separate impression are: (1) Belief is fully
explicable without supposing any such distinct impression;
(2) The causes of belief can be explained
without reference
to any separate impression; and
(3) The effects of belief
can be explained without reference to any
separate impres-
sion. Hume asks, "Why then look any farther, or
multiply
suppositions without necessity?" (p. 626).
Belief is, then, an idea with a particular kind of phe-
nomenological feel. In claiming that belief is a "manner of

conception", Hume does not mean to refer to how the

idea is
produced but to the way it is experienced. "Belief consists
not in the nature and order of our ideas, but in the manner
of their conception, and in their feeling to the mind"(p.
629) . "An idea assented to fee 1 s different from a ficti-
cious idea" (p. 629).

While belief is not a distinct impression, it does in-

volve a feeling, and feelings can be described but not de-
fined. Accordingly, Hume does not attempt to offer a de-
finition of belief in the appendix. Instead he attempts to
characterize belief in the same manner as he characterized

simple impressions: he offers a description of the feeling

and gives its causes and effects. The feeling of belief may

18
be described as "a superior
force , or vivacity , or solidity ,

or f irmness or steadiness" (p. 627).

,
Hume acltnowledges that
such descriptions are bound to
be imperfect. "'Tis impossi-
ble to explain perfectly this feeling
or manner of concep-
tion. We may malce use of words, that express
something near
It. But its true and proper name is belief
..." (p. 629) . [7]
The cause of belief is generally custom, although in
cases where there is an "extraordinary ferment
of the blood
and spirits" such as madness, "a present
impression and cus-
tomary transition are ... no longer necessary ..." (p. 123).
In the conclusions to causal inferences, this custom con-
sists in our experience of constantly conjoined objects;
in
the case of education, it consists in the repetition of a
single conception. The effect of belief is its influence on

our thoughts and actions. it "renders realities more pre-

sent to us than fictions, causes them to weigh more in the

thought, and gives them a superior influence on the passions

and imaginat ion" (p. 629). Likewise, "it gives [ideas] more
force and influence; makes them appear of greater im-
portance; infixes them in the mind, and renders them the

governing principles of all our actions" (p. 629).

Thus, in Hume's final view, belief is not equivalent to

the force and vivacity (or liveliness) of an idea nor is it

the cause or effect of a lively idea. Therefore, Hume can

consistently maintain that an idea can be forceful and vivid

19
without being believed. There is, then, no problem with
his
view that "poetical enthusiasm"
can make an idea lively
without producing belief. "How great soever the pitch may
be, to which the vivacity rises,
'tis evident, that in poet-
ry It never has the same feeling with that
which arises in
the mind, when we reason, tho'
even upon the lowest species
of probability" (p. 630). Because belief does not consist in
the force and vivacity of an idea,
Hume can also consistent-
ly maintain that a believed idea can
be less forceful and
vivid than an idea that is not believed.

These points are particularly important in

understand-
ing the role of general rules in Hume's epistemology. Ac-
cording to Hume, "a reflexion on general rules keeps
us from
augmenting our beliefs upon every increase of the force
and
vivacity of our ideas" (p. 632). in a later chapter, I will
return to this important point to show the importance of
general rules in regulating our beliefs.

Imagination

Hume's view of the nature of the imagination is basi-

cally Cartesian or, more specifically, Malebranchian. [8]

While Malebranche ' s treatment of the imagination is both

psychological and physiological, Hume concentrates on the

psychological aspects and, for the most part, "neglects the

advantages" of presenting a physiological account. [9] Al-

though Hume follows Malebranche in his account of the nature

20
of the imagination, he develops a completely
original view
of the role of the imagination
in human thought and action.
To understand Hume's departure
from Malebranche, it is first
important to understand their agreement
with respect to the
nature of the imagination.

According to both Descartes and Malebranche,

it is the
mind or soul that thinks and perceives.
The ideas involved
in thinking and perceiving come from two sources:
from the
mind Itself and from the senses. The first sort are the
ideas of the pure understanding or pure intellect. As I

mentioned earlier, Descartes believed these ideas are in-

nate, while Malebranche, following Augustine, believed that
such ideas are ideal archetypes in the mind of God. They
are contained in God, not in the human mind, but the pure
intellect directly apprehends them in God. The second sort
of ideas are obtained when the mind directs its attention
to
the body and perceives via the imagination. According to
Malebranche, the imagination is intimately related to the
senses. "There is such a close relationship between the
senses and imagination that they should not be separated.....

The differences between these two faculties is but on e of

degree. "[10] The imagination is the faculty by which the

mind reproduces what has been previously experienced by the

senses. Memories are thereby included under ideas of the

imagination.

21
 Like Descartes, Malebranche
supposed that the processes
of the imagination depended on
the activity of animal
spirits in the brain. "The imagination consists only
in the
soul's power of forming images
of objects producing changes
in the fibers of the brain.
.."(n 1.1,88). Malebranche im-
plies, but does not specifically
state, that memories are
distinguished from other ideas of the
imagination by the
fact that they reproduce ideas in
the order of the original
sensations. Our brain fibers, having once received
certain
impressions through the flow of animal
spirits and by the
actions of objects, retain some facility
for receiving these
same dispositions for some time Memory consists only in
this facility"(ll 1.5,106).

Sensation consists in the understanding's perception

of
something "upon occasion of the appropriate natural
events
taking place in the organs of the body...(l 1,3). When the
sense organs are stimulated by an object, the "agitation"
of
the fibers in the sense organs are "communicated" to the
brain via animal spirits— "the most refined and agitated
parts of the blood" (II 1.2,91). The passage of animal
spirits leaves "traces" in the brain. Both the force with
which objects strike the senses, and the frequency with
which the same kind of object is presented to the senses
determine the depth of the traces and, thus, the strength of

the consciousness of sensation. Imagining and remembering

are "a kind of weak and languid sensation the mind receives

22
 ,

only because of certain traces

being produced or arous6d in
the brain by the flow of
spirits" {Conclusion, 261). When
either according to the will
or in so^e other manner, animal
spirits flow into the brain
traces made by previous impres-
Eions of the senses, those
impressions are "revived" and we
imagine or remember.

The similarity between Malebranche and

Hume is nicely
summarized by Charles McCracken:

Both sensation and imagination

occur,
Descartes and Malebranche supposed, be-
cause a rush of animal spirits to the
brain imprints traces there that occa-
sion an 'image' in consciousness; if
these spirits flow forcefully, as hap-
pens when our sense organs are stimulat-
ed, a deep trace is made on the brain,
and the images produced are fortes
et
vives such
; images we call sensation.
If, however, the spirits flow weakly, as
is usual when the cause of the flow is
internal to the body, they produce a su-
perficial trace on the brain, which oc-
casions in consciousness that espece de
sensation f aibles et languissates thaT
we term imagination. While Hume does
not engage in this sort of speculative
physiology, he and Malebranche are in
complete accord here about the differ-
ence between sensation and imagination.
Indeed, Hume's terminology follows Male-
branche: where one speaks of sensations
as fortes et vives
'

the other speaks

'
,

of their 'force and liveliness'; and

where one describes ideas of the imagi-
nation as f aibles
'
et languissantes '
,
the other says they are 'faint and
languid . [11]
'

Later I will show that Hume does at least once quite

23
explicitly "engage in this sort of speculative physiology"
and that there is good reason to suppose that he accepted
Malebranche's physiological model.
For now it is sufficient
to note an important point neglected by McCracken. This
point concerns the different focus
in the methods of distin-
guishing sensing from imagining
in the discussions of Des-
cartes, Malebranche and Hume.
Descartes's manner of distin-
guishing sensing from imagining is objective: it is focused
on their physical causes or manner
of production:

When external objects act on my senses,

they print on them an idea, or rather
a
figure, of themselves; and when the mind
attends to these images imprinted on the
[pineal] gland in this way, it is said
to perceive. When on the other hand the
images on the gland are not imprinted by
external objects but by the mind itself,
which fashions and shapes them in the
brain in the absence of external ob-
jects, then we have imagination. The
difference between perception and imagi-
nation is thus really just this, that in
perception the images are imprinted by
external objects which are actually pre-
sent, whilst in imagination the images
are imprinted by the mind without any
external objects, and with the windows
shut, as it were. [12]

Malebranche presents the difference between sensing and

imagining in terms of both the objective difference and the

subjective difference — their feeling to inner consciousness.

The difference to consciousness is the different degrees of

force and liveliness. The objective difference lies in

their manner of production. Sensation arises from the

24
 :

action of external objects

on the senses, imaginings
arise
when the will or some other
internal event causes animal
spirits to flow into the traces
left by previous sensations.
Hume is interested in the examination of
the un-
derstanding and his primary concern
is with the contents of
consciousness. His presentation of the difference
between
sensing and imagining is directed
toward the subjective dif-
ference or difference to consciousness.
The objective dif-
ference is a subject that he claims
"belongs more to anato-
mists and natural phi losophers .
” (p. 8). . .

Another aspect of Malebranche ' s view adopted by Hume

deals with the connection between ideas
of the imaqination.
According to Malebranche, the connections
between ideas of
the imagination depend on the connections
between brain
traces. There are three primary types of connections
be-
tween traces: (1) natural connections, (2) connections based
on identity in time, and connections based
(3) on resem-
blance. Natural connections are described by Malebranche as
follows

There are traces in our brains that

are naturally tied to one another, and
even certain emotions of the spirits,
because that is necessary to preserva-
tion of life.... For example, the trace
of a great elevation one sees below one-
self, and from which one is in danger of
falling ... is naturally tied to the one
that represents death to us, and to an
emotion of the spirit that disposes us

25
 .

to flight (I 1.5,106)

Hume, in a passage reminiscent of Malebranche, describes

this connection as "deriv'd solely from custom and
experi-
ence" {p. 148). [13] But, as I will show in my discussion of
custom, Hume's view of what
constitutes a natural connection
IS both more extensive and more
complex than that of Male-
branche

The second type of connection depends

on the identity
of time when traces are made. ”it is enough that many
traces were produced at the same time
for them all to rise
together again" (II 1.5,106). From his examples it is clear
that by "Identity in time" Malebranche
meant to include
traces produced in succession. The original traces produced
by experiencing two objects at the same time or one immedi-

ately following another will be only weakly

connected, and
such connections will be easily broken. But when objects
are continually conjoined in experience, the animal spirits
will cut a deep path between the traces occasioned by the

two objects, forming a strong connection. Upon experiencing

one of these objects, the animal spirits that flow into its

traces will continue on into the connected trace producing

the idea of the object that has been frequently conjoined
with it. The result is that men frequently judge that there

is some real connection between objects that are often

joined in their experience.

26
 Men never fail to judge that
a thing is
the cause of a given effect
when the two
are conjoined, given that the
true cause
of the effect is unknown to
them. This
IS why everyone conclude
that a moving
ball which strikes another is
the true
and principal cause of the
motion it
communicates to the other, and that
soul s will is the true and the
principal
cause of movement in the arms, and
other
—
such prejudices because it always
pens that a ball moves when struck
hap-
by
another, that our arms move almost every
time we want them to and that we do
not
sensibly perceive what else could be the
cause of these movement s .( I l l 2.3,224)

The third sort of connection between ideas depends on

resemblance. Resembling objects produce resembling traces,
and these, in turn, produce resembling ideas. This can lead
both to errors in sensation and errors in
judgment . [14] it
can lead to error in sensation because we mistakenly take
one object to be another resembling object. Suppose, for
instance, that we have experienced two resembling objects
and thus have two similar brain traces. When we are later
presented with" one of these objects, animal spirits may flow

into the traces occasioned by the other resembling object.

The result is that, in a sense, we actually experience the

non-present object resembling the present object. [15] This

generally occurs when one of the objects is more common or
familiar than the other. Familiar objects have made deeper
traces from the frequent flow of animal spirits. When a

less familiar object is presented and this object bears some

27
 .

resemblance to the familiar-

tanuliar object, the animal
spirits flow
into the deeper traces left
by the familiar object.
•when
the spirits have passed
through traces many times, they
en-
ter there more easily than
other places nearby, through
which they have never passed,
or have not passed as of-
ten. . (II 212, 134)

Errors of judgment arise from mistaking one idea for

another resembling idea. This mistake has the same source
as that found in sensation. -The animal spirits that were
directed by the action of external
objects, or even by or-
ders of the soul [i.e. by the will],
to produce certain
traces in the brain often produce others
that truly resemble
them in some things, but that are not
quite the traces of
these same objects, nor those the soul
desired to be repre-
sented ..."( n 212,134-35) .

Hume's principles of association among ideas

are simi-
lar to Malebranche's connections of ideas, yet they differ
in some important respects. The principles of association
are resemblance, contiguity, and cause and effect. Accord-
ing to Hume, these are "natural" connections in the sense
that they are the universal principles "by which one idea
naturally introduces another" (p. 10). We can, of course,
combine and relate ideas in any way we choose. Such combin-
ing and relating would then be attributable to the will.
But the association of ideas by resemblance, contiguity and

28
 cause and effect is an
activity of the imagination
and does
not depend on the will.
with respect to resemblance.
Home
IS in complete agreement
with Malebranche. But in place of
Malebranche's identity in time,
Hume substitutes the princi-
ples Of contiguity in space
and time and cause and
effect.
Both these principles have features in common with Male-
branche's principle of identity.
According to Hume, the im-
agination associates ideas of
objects that we have experi-
enced to be contiguous in time
or space. According to Male-
branche, identity accounts for
the following situation:

If ... a man finds himself

in some pub-
lic ceremony, if he notes all
the cir-
cumstances and all the principal
persons
assisting at it, the time, place,
day,
and all the other particulars,
it will
suffice for him to remember the
place,
or even some less noteworthy
cir-
cumstance of the ceremony, to have
all
the others recur to him.fli 1 5
/ 105 , )

For Hume, this would be explained by the associative

rela-
tion of contiguity in space and time.

On Malebranche 's account it is the (near) identity in

time that objects are expe r i e nc ed --, t h e i r constant
conjunction that leads us to connect their ideas so closely
that we suppose a causal connection. Unlike Malebranche,
Hume believes that there are causal connections between
ob-
jects, yet he agrees with Malebranche that the strong con-

nection between ideas in the imagination produced by con-

stant conjunctions leads us to mistakenly suppose that we

29
 know of some necessary
connection between objects.
So far I have dealt
primarily with similarities
between
Hume's and Malebranche s
accounts of the imagination.
'

There
are two differences that
bear eKamlnation. The first dif-
ference is superficial, but can be misleading.
The second
difference is both fundamental
and crucial. it is fundamen-
tal in that it
distinguishes Malebranche the Cartesian
ra-
tionalist from Hume the empiricist.
It is crucial in under-
standing why general rules are
so important for Hume's epis-
temology. I will begin by examining the
superficial, but
possibly misleading, difference.

When comparing Hume's and Malebranche

' s accounts of the
imagination, one cannot help but notice one pervasive dif-
ference. Hume's account lacks the constant appeal to
physiology found in Malebranche. McCracken explains this by
claiming that "Hume had little taste for
such purported
physiological explanations of association and
sometimes de-
rided that 'imaginary dissection of the brain
'".[16] Mc-
Cracken's claim is based on a careless reading of the pas-
sage in question. Hume is pointing out that, in his initial
presentation of the principles of association, he did not
take advantage of the physiological explanation. But his
recognition that some such account underlies the facts of
association is made clear by the passage following the one

quoted by McCracken. Hume continues: "But tho' I have ne-

30
 glected any advantage, which I „ight have drawn fro. this
topic in explaining the relations of ideas, a.
I afraid i
must here have recourse to it,
m order to account for the
mistakes that arise from these relat ions"
(p. 60). He then
proceeds to present a
physiological explanation of the
er-
rors arising from resemblance which is
clearly similar to
Malebranche ' s account.

As the mind is endow'd

with a power of
exciting any idea it pleases;
It dispatches the spirits
whenever
into that re-
brain, in which the idea is
piac d; these spirits always
excite the
Idea, when they run into the
traces, and rummage that cell,
proper
which be-
longs to the idea. But as their motion
IS seldom direct, and naturally
turns a
little to the one side or the other;
for
this reason the animal spirits,
falling
into the contiguous traces, present
other related ideas in lieu of that
which the mind desir'd at first to
sur-
vey. (p. 60-61)

Whether or not Hume had a distaste for physiological

explanations, I cannot pretend to determine. But there are
two more obvious reasons for his general
reluctance to make
such appeals. First, his main concern is with the phenomena
of consciousness themselves, not with the
underlying physio-
logical causes. Hume is interested in examining certain
facts of our experience to determine the "extent and force"

of the understanding. The physiology underlying such facts

is something that, like the examination of our sensations,
belongs more to anatomists and natural phi losophers . .
.
" (p.

31
 .

8). second, Hume recognized

the danger of placing too
much
emphasis on physiology. The discovery of a mistake
in the
physiological account could lead
readers to suppose that the
facts of consciousness being
explained are also unwarranted.
But it is evident that he
is concerned about the
possibility
of such a mistake on the
part of his readers in the
dis-
claimer that preceeds the
physiological explanation cited
above

I shall only premise, that we must

dis-
tinguish exactly betwixt the phenomenon
Itself, and the causes, which
l shall
assign for it; and must not imagine
from
any uncertainty in the latter,
that the
former is also uncertain. The phenomena
may be real, tho' my explication be
chi-
merical. The falsehood of one is no
consequence of that of the other; tho'
at the same time we may observe,
that
'tis very natural for us to draw such
a
consequence (p. 60) .

The second difference between Hume and Malebranche is

best approached through the subject of error.
According to
Malebranche, "error is the cause of men's misery; it is the
sinister principle that has produced the evil in the
world
... and we may hope for sound and genuine happiness only
by
seriously laboring to avoid it" (I 1,1). Accordingly, one of
the main tasJcs Malebranche sets himself is to "examine the
causes and nature of our errors... "(I 1,1). The most "or-
derly and illuminating" method of examining error is one
that considers them in "their birth and origin" (I 1.1). Be-

32
 cause the senses and imagination
on physiological depend
processes of the body, the
examination of the birth and
ori-
gin of their errors requires
an examination of this
physiol-
ogy. The errors of the imagination
are first traced to
certain general principles:
the connecting of ideas of the
imagination according to resemblance and identity in time.
These principles of connections among ideas are then ex-
plained according to their
physiological origins.
Like Malebranche, Hume recognizes
that the principles
of association inherent in the imagination are apt to lead
to errors. Resemblance is the major culprit, but
contiguity
and cause and effect are also
sources of error. ”Tho' resem-
blance be the relation which most
readily produces a mistake
in ideas, yet the others of causation and contiguity may
also concur in the same inf luence"
(p. 61). But, while Hume
agrees that these principles and the mistakes that arise
from them are caused by certain
physiological processes, he
does not believe that knowledge of these
processes is as
important as knowing that such mistakes do occur.

In addition to the particular processes involved

in er-
rors, Malebranche continually stresses a more
general reason
for error. We are constantly misled by sensation and the
ideas of the imagination which arise from sensation
because
we take them to be a source of knowledge about the real
natures of objects. Malebranche, in the Cartesian tradi-

33
 tion, emphatically denies that
sense and imagination
can
ever be the source of
such knowledge. The sense and imagi-
nation depend entirely
on the body and are
provided by God
only for the preservation
of the body. They are not meant
to provide us with
knowledge of objects, but only
with
limited truths about the
relation of objects to our bodies.
Malebranche's rule for avoiding
error in the senses applies
equally well to the imagination.

s^^ses as to
what things are in themselves, but
as to the relation they have only
to the body
because, in fact, the senses were
to us, not to know the truth
given
of things
in themselves, but only for
the preser-
vation of our body. (I 5, 24)

In he
conclusion of the book on sense and
imagination
Malebranche notes:

All the thoughts the soul has

through the body, or through dependence
upon the body, are all for the sake of
the body ... they are all false or ob-
scure ... they serve only to unite us to
sensible goods and to everything that
can procure them for us; ... this union
involves us in infinite errors and very
great miseries (ii 3.6 195)

The source of our knowledge of the real natures of objects

IS the pure understanding, and it is by the ideas of the

pure understanding that we correct the errors of the senses

and imagination.

Our natural judgments — judgments of the senses and

34
in^aginat ion-are adequate for their
purpose. They serve to
preserve the body. But even in this capacity
they are lia-
ble to error and require
regulation by the pure understand-
ing. in judgments about the
nature of objects the senses
and imagination can give
us no truth whatsoever;
such judg-
ments are "all false and obscure".

According to Hume there is no faculty of pure under-

standing. The following important passage is clearly
directed against any view that assumes
the existence of such
a faculty:

I shall here take occasion to

propose a second observation concerning
our demonstrative reasonings, which
is
suggested by the same subject of mathe-
matics. 'Tis usual with mathematicians,
to pretend, that those ideas, which
are
their object, are of so refin'd and
spiritual a nature, that they fall not
under the conception of the fancey, but
must be comprehended by a pure and
intellectual view, of which the superior
faculties of the soul are alone capable.
The same notion runs thro' most parts of
philosophy, and is principally made use
of to explain our abstract ideas, and to
show how we can form an idea of a
triangle, for instance, whichv shall
neither be an isosceles nor scalenum,
nor be confin'd to any particular length
and proportion of sides. 'Tis easy to
see, why philosophers are so fond of
this notion of some spiritual and
refin'd perceptions; since by that means
they cover many of their absurdities,
and may refuse to submit to the
decisions of clear ideas, by appealing
to such as are obscure and uncertain.
But to destroy this artifice, we need
but reflect on that principle so oft

35
 insisted on, that all our ideas are
impressions (p. 72)
,

eliminating the faculty of

pure understanding, Hume
IS faced With the task
of accounting for certain
features of
thought traditionally
attributed to that faculty. As for
the ideas attributed to the
pure understanding, Hume either
denies we have them or argues
that they are really products
of the imagination that are
founded on experience. But my
primary concern is with another
feature that Hume needs to
account for the regulation of our
judgments. He could not
follow Malebranche in an appeal to
the pure understanding to
determine what kinds of judgments
provide us with truth or
to account for the means by
which we correct our natural
judgments. What Hume needs is an empirical method
of regu-
lating and correcting natural judgments.
Such a method must
itself be explicable within the framework
of natural judg-
ments. General rules provide just such a method.

Custom

Descartes, Malebranche and Locke all acknowledge the

influence of custom on human thought and action. All agree
that customs are primarily the result of past repetition.
But, while they agree that customs are primarily the result

of repetition, they acknowledge exceptions. Descartes, for

instance, remarks:

[A] custom can be acquired by a solitary

36
 ) ]

inus when we
Trui°'’whpn‘^ long usage,
unexpectedly mept wifv,
so.eth.ng very foul food that „e are
th s"lvrnt"
this event gives us may so ‘hat
change the
hrain, that we can no
longed Ve°p"
longer see any such food without
hor-

Malebranche and Locke cite similar examples. [18] As

they see it, the distinguishing feature of customs is not
that they result from past repetition
but that they are ar-
bitrary as opposed to natural, a
distinction I shall discuss
in detail below. Hume, on the other hand, takes
past repe-
tition as the distinguishing
characteristic of custom. "We
call everything custom which proceeds from
past repetition
Without any new reasoning or conclusion"
(p. 102).
Following Descartes' mechanical account, Malebranche
supposed that customs or habits are
formed when "pathways”
in the body become sufficiently
open or worn to allow easy
passage of animal spirits. "Little by little the animal
spirits open and smooth these paths by their
continual flow,
so that in time they find no more resistance" ll 1.5,108). (

Locke apparently accepted the same explanation:

Custom settles habits of thinking in the

understanding, as well as of determining
in the will, and motions in the body:
all which seems to be but trains of mo-
tioins i the animal spirits, which, once
set a going, continue in the same steps
they have been used to; which, by often
treading, are worn into a smooth path
and the motion in it becomes easy, and
as it were natural. (II 33 6 529 19 . , [

37
 [

There is no reason to
suppose that Hume differed
from
his predecessors with
respect to the mechanics
involved in
custom. This account follows naturally from the
Male-
branchian account of the
imagination, an account that Hume
clearly accepted. Furthermore,
in discussing the effects
of
custom in Book II, Hume makes
frequent reference to physio-
logical processes. He refers to the "difficulty
of spirits
moving in their new direction",
and he explains that "this
difficulty excites the spirits" and
that surprise "puts the
spirits into agitat ion" (p. 423 ).

Allagree that the influence of custom

can be found in
thought, passions, and movement. Locke
and Malebranche take
the skill of a musician as the
paradigm of customary move-
ment. 20] Custom is also a source of connect ion
between
ideas and passions. in an example later repeated by Male-

branch e, Descartes claims:

When a dog sees

partridge he is natu-
a
rally disposed run toward it
t o and,
when he hears a gun fired, th is sound
naturally incites him to flight. But
nevertheless setters are usually so
trained that the sight of a partridge
causes them to stop, and the wound which
they afterwards hear when a shot is
fired over them, causes them to run
toward it [21].

Descartes notes that such conditioning is also possible

in men "and that even those who have the feeblest souls can

38
 acquire a very absolute doniinion
over all their passions
if
fficient industry is applied in training and guiding
• [22] Left to accidental circumstances, the
con-
nections established by such
conditioning are apt to produce
various pathological aversions,
fears, and phobias. But
this capacity for linking
ideas and passions, when
properly
directed, can be used to man's
benefit.
Finally, custom can be the source of connections be-
tween ideas. I have already discussed Hume's
and Male-
branche's views on the connection
between ideas of the imag-
ation. Here I will concentrate on the
important differ-
ence between Hume and his
predecessors over the distinction
between "natural" and "customary"
connections of ideas. [23]
Locke draws the distinctions as follows:

Some of our ideas have a natural corre-

spondence and connection one with anoth-
er: it is the office and excellency
of
our reason to trace these, and hold them
together in their peculiar beings. Be-
sides this there is another connection
of ideas wholly owing to chance and cus -
t^m. Ideas that in themselves are not
of kin, come to be so united in some
men's minds, that it is very Hard to
separate them, they always keep in com-
pany, and the one no sooner at any time
comes into the understanding, but its
associate appears with it; and if they
are more than two which are thus united,
the whole gang, always inseparable, show
themselves together. {II 33 6 529) [24]
. ,

According to Locke, judgment consists in the joining and

separating of ideas. A natural consequence of this view is

39
 Ideas are joined in an
arbitrary manner, the re-
sulting judgment is likewise
arbitrary. Habits or customs
Of thought consist of
just such arbitrary
judgments.
While Locke distinguishes
between natural and customary
connections between ideas,
Malebranche and Descartes make
a
further distinction. There are connections between
the non-
sensuous ideas of the pure
understanding. These ideas and
the relations between them
provide us with our real knowl-
edge, including our genuine
knowledge of the physical world.
There are also natural connections
between the ideas of the
imagination. These connections are essential
for the pres-
ervation of our bodies. They are natural in the sense that
they depend on inborn mechanical
dispositions of our bodies.
According to Malebranche:

There are traces in our brains that

are naturally tied to one another,
and
even to certain emotions of the spirits,
because that is necessary to preserva-
tion of life; and their connection can-
not be broken, or at least not easily
broken, because it is good that it be
always the same it consists in a
disposition of the brain fibers that we
have from birth. (II 1.5,106)

Finally, there are customary connections. These con-

nections are also between ideas of the imagination and
de-
pend on body mechanisms. But they are either accidental,
such as the connections established by the identity of times

when objects are experienced, or they are artificial, such

40
 '

as the connections
established by education.
Unlike Locke,
Malebranche does not believe
that judg-
ment consists in the joining
and separating of ideas.
Male-
branche '
s view of judgment is one that
is later adopted, in
part, by Hume.

There is no difference on the

of part
the
understanding between a simple
perception, a judgment, and an in-
erence, other than that the understand-
ing by a simple perception
perceives a
simple thing without any relation
to
anything else whatsoever, that in
judg-
ments It perceives the relations
between
two or more things, and that in
infer-
ences It perceives the relations
among
the relations of things. Consequently,
operations of the understanding
are nothing but pure perceptions.
1.2,7)
^ ^ (t
[25]

This is judgment on the part of the understanding

; it
"is only the perception of the relation
found between two or
more things" (l 1.2,7). yet the will also plays a crucial
role in judgment. According to Malebranche, it is the will
that assents or withholds assent from the perception of
the
understanding. in this he and Hume part company. As I not-
ed in the section on judgment, Hume held that the assent
involved in judgment is be lief and does not depend on the
will.

What is significant about Malebranche ' s theory of judg-

ment is that the particular manner of joining ideas does not

determine whether or not a judgment is arbitrary. What de-

41
 termines the latter is the
truth of the perception-its
rep-
resentation of a relation
that actually holds
between ideas
or things. Natural judgments do
provide us with a measure
of truth-the relation
of objects to our
bodies. They do
not provide us with truth
about the objects themselves.
customary judgments, on the
other hand, do not provide
us
with truth about the
relation of objects to our
bodies or
about objects themselves.
Such judgments are, therefore,
arbitrary.

Hume agrees with Malebranche that natural connections

are based on inborn dispositions
necessary for preservation,
but he does not separate
natural connections from customary
ones. The connecting of ideas by custom
is both natural and
necessary for preservation. According
to Hume, the imagina-
tion has natural dispositions or
"propensities" to join
ideas in certain ways. One such natural propensity is to
join ideas by custom or repetition.
But the fact that the
joining of ideas by custom is both
natural and necessary to
human nature does not preclude the
possibility that some
particular connection arising from custom will
not be neces-
sary or may actually be destructive. The same
principle ac-
counts for both of the following judgments;

One who concludes somebody to be near

him, when he hears an articulate voice
in the dark, reasons justly and natural-
ly; tho'that conclusion be deriv'd from
nothing but custom, which infixes and

42
 ,

inlivens the idea of

human creature
a

tne present impression.

?he"present°Ln^" conjunction wUh
But one. who
Snston^^of""""^ with'the ap!
^ spectres in the
Lrhen^ K
perhaps, be dark, may,
said to reason, and to
son naturally too; rea-
But then it must be
in the same sense,
that a malady is said
to be natural; as
arising
causes, tho' it be contraryfrom natural
to health
"’^st natural sit
uaf
nation of man. (p. 225 - 26
)

Here Hume is clearly differentiating between a just

judgment and one that is not just. Yet both depend on the
same principle of custom.
Thus, the "justness" of a judg-
ment is not
determined by the principle that
gives rise to
it. To say that a judgment is
derived from custom is not to
say that it is arbitrary. Like Malebranche, Hume distin-
guishes between arbitrary judgments
by their ability to pro-
vide truth. Yet Hume believes
that natural judgments, judg-
ments based on custom, can provide
truth. But they can just
as naturally lead to error. If wrong judgment is to be
avoided, natural judgments must be regulated. This regula-
tion is achieved by employing general
rules. The next chap-
ter is devoted to the examination of
the formation of these
rules and a description of how they serve to regulate and
correct natural judgments.

43
 1

NOTES

[1] Port Roya Logic was the more common

of Thinking by Antoine name for The
IS there stated as
Arnauld. The view Hume rejects
follows:

it presents itself""to ' th^l^n^'d

several o;h;;s A^trine^Ln^nir Th"

.

ing, trans. James Dlckoff

and Part^ei^i^=r^^
York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1964),
p. 29.

David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature pd i i\

d J
®diti5H7^iVTsid ^Jith-no-tii-^'p
h’ Ni'^
ditch (Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press 197 R) n qc ^ f,',
tions to the Treatise are to thrs
edition^' Hereafter ^Je?’
indicated by page numbers
give^L \°he“’ttxr7^^^^
[3] Hume agrees with Malebranche
here The similarity
in wording suggests that Hume was
directly influenced by
Malebranche s view

difference on the part of the understand-

K 4-

t
perception, a judgment, and an
inference, other than that the understanding by a sim-
ple perception perceives a simple thing
without any
relation to anything else whatsoever, that
in judgment
relations between two or more things,
and that in inference it perceives the
relations among
the relations of things. Consequently, all the opera-
tions of the understanding are nothing but pure per-
ceptions." Nicolas Malebranche, The Search After
Tri^, trans. Thomas Lennon and Paul Olscamp (Colum-
bus: Ohio State Univ. Press, 1980), p,. 7.

Norman Kemp Smith, The Philosophy of David

•
A Critical Study of Its Orig ins and Central Doctrines
(London: Macmillan, 1941; reprint ed.. New York: St. Mar-
tin's Press, 1966), esp. pp. 110-16 and 218-19.

[5] For an extensive treatment of this topic see

Donald Livingston's Hume s Phi losophy of Common Life
'

(Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1984), Chapter 2.

[6] Kemp Smith, p. 349.

44
 , . , .

[7] Hume makes the same

point in the first Enquiry
;

should, pe?hapsrfind t ^ sentiment, we

?icul

anger, to a creature who Passion of

these sentiments. never had ^nf^ experience
BELIEF ic; of
Of this feeling; and
Le is ever “ """"

every momen? conscioL of The

cj:r4narTTTtsrT%srr.
I
[ am in full agreement with
8 ]

regard. For a more extensive treatment

John Wright in this
of Ma lebranche s of Hume s adoption •

psychophysiological views see Wright's The

'
^
Scept ica 1 Rea 1 ism of David Hume
Press, 1983) (Minneapolis: Univ. of MinriT

[9] Cf. Treatise 60.

[10]Nicolas Malebranche, The Search Af ter Truth

trans. Thomas Lennon and Paul OlscaTi^ ,
(Columbus” Ohio State
P- 1®’- citations to thi Search are
references will be indTcated in
tL text
tne hoAv
hv book,
ttTt by chapter, section (where applicable) and
page. Eg (ii 1.5, loo) ,

11[ Charles J. McCracken, Malebranche

]
and
Philosophy (Oxford: Clarendon Press, British
1983), p. 28^
[12] Rene Descartes, Conversat ions with
John Cottingham (Oxford: Clarendon Press, Burman, trans.
19 76T“,'p. 27.

[13] The passage from Hume is as follows:

Let us consider the case of a man, who being

hung out from a high tower in a cage of iron
cannot
forbear trembling, when he surveys the precipie below
him, tho' he knows himself to be perfectly secure
from
falling, by his experience of the solidity of the
iron, which supports him; and tho' the idea of fall
and descent, and harm and death, be deriv'd solely
from custom and experience" (p. 148)

[14] It may seem odd to attribute error to the senses

rather than to judgments based on the senses. But Male-

45
 .

invSlvL‘'Ue®''unde?s“ s^'^percept fon a^“rir7‘ '

S"®

scribes as -compound sensation-

that sensations can be considered Is the “latter^L""'
erroneous.
[15] Malebranche's example is interesting:
The reason we normally see a face in the moon i q

^
^ '^ith much attention.
tL? Iho animal spirits meeting resistance in the
1 So
brain, are easily detoured from
the direction that the light of the moon impresses
on
^"es to "„hich°\h"‘ 'a'
^nt^fhose
natur^(^IT.2 135?. attached by

[16] McCracken, p. 279.

Rene Descartes,
[17] The Passions of the Soul, in The
Philosophic al Works of Descartes trans. Elizabeth"^ ,
Haldane and G.R.T Ross, 2 vols. (Cambridge:
Press, 1911) Cambridge Univ.
1: 356, ,

[18] ^®^®^^^riche (I 13,65); John Locke, An Essay

Concerning Understanding , collated by Alexander Fra-
ser, 2 vols . (New York: Dover, 1959), Chap. 33, 1:531.

f Like Hume, Locke is cautious about committing

^

himself to a particular physiological explanation:

"Whether
the natural causes ... be the motions of animal
spirits, I
will not
[23]determine, how probable soever ... it appears
to be
so ...” (Chap. 33, 1:530)

[20]
[24] Cf. Malebranche (II 1.5, 108); Locke, (Chap. 33,
•

[21] Descartes, Passions , p. 356.

[22] Ibid.

For a more extensive treatment of this topic see

John Wright's The Sceptical Realism of David Hume, esp. pp.
151-59 and pp. 221-30.

Compare to Malebranche: " brain traces are so

well tied to one another that none can be aroused without
all those which were imprinted at the same time being
aroused" (II 1.5,105). Also, "It is enough that many traces

46
 ;

were produced at the

same time for them all
together"(II 1.5,106) to rise again

[25] Compare to Hume:

actrof^thT^underlt^ndina the three

and reasoning] is, that '^°"t^®Ption, judgment
t^akino^Vh
they an res^ilve
the^le^verin^o'^tii:
nothing but Dartinniar-
'
f/rsr“^and are
first,
,

Whether we conceiving objects.

consider «
whether
others
the act of mind exceeds
not a simple conception.
97n) . (p[

47
 chapter II
the formation and structure
op general rules

Hume's first discussion of the operation of general

rules IS found in Book
1, part 3, section 8 of the Treatise .

The subject Of the section is probabilities determined in

Philosophically unjustified wavs. Hume cites four cases,
calling them "unphllosophlcal
probabilities".
It IS
important to remember what Hume
means by "proba-
bility His discussion of probability
.
follows his discus-
sion of belief and is meant as
a continuation of the
same
subject. Having discussed the nature of
belief and how we
come to form beliefs, Hume turns
to the topic of how we come
to form various degrees of belief.
Hume uses the term
probable' to describe those judgments which are made with
less than complete certainty. His
how and interest is in
why we form different degrees of
belief or assurance in our
various judgments.

Hume is careful to inform the reader of his meaning.

At the beginning of his discussion of probability
in section
11, Hume notes that some philosophers (including himself at
other points) have divided all our reasoning into Icnowledge
and probability, the former based on the relation of ideas,
the latter including any other forms of reasoning.
This, of
course, entails classifying all causal judgments as proba-

48
 . .

ble. But Hume states his

intention of preserving
the "com-
mon signification of
words by allowing that
"many srgument s
from causality exceed
probabi 1 i ty " (p 124)
.
. .
Thus at .
,

least for the present

discussion, he will divide
reasonings
into three kinds, depending
on the decree of assurance
at-
tached to them;

y knowledge, mean the assurance aris-

l
ing from the comparison of ideas.
proofs, those arguments, which By
riv d from the relation of are d°-
cause and ef-
fect, and which are entirely
free ^^rom
doubt and uncertainty. By probability,
that evidence, which is still
with uncertainty. fp. 124) attended

According to Hume, there are two philosophically sanc-

tioned methods of proportioning
belief: probability of
chances and probability of causes.
in the case of chances,
such as a roll of a die, belief
is proportioned according to
the "superior number of chances"
(p. 127). if the die has
four sides marked with the same number
and two sides marked
with a different number, we conclude that
it is more proba-
ble that the number marked on four sides
will turn up on any
given roll. in the case of causes, belief is proportioned
according to the frequency with which an effect has been
observed to follow from a given cause. in both cases Hume
shows how the degrees of belief are explicable according
to
his theory of belief. His explanation is not important for

present purposes. What is important is Hume's claim that

49
 these two methods constitute the "philosophical" forms of
probabUlty. Philosophers accept
legitimate ways these as
proportion belief; they are
"reasonable foundation of be-
lief and opinion" (p. 143
).

in the previous section

on causality and belief,
Hume's
primary concern has not been
to present a normative philo-
p ical system. While he has made distinctions between
good and bad judgments, he has not advanced a thesis about
how we oug^ to make causal judgments or about how we ought
to proportion our beliefs. His primary concern so far
has
been how we, Ui f act make
, causal judgments and form be-
liefs. As I showed in Chapter I, Hume adopts and develops
the psychophysiological view of natural judgments held by
Malebranche. if his account is not
philo- meant to be a
sophical analysis of how we make
rationally justified judg-
ments, but, rather, a psychophysiological
account of how hu-
man beings in fact make judgments,
then his account must be
capable of explaining all of our judgments,
not simply those
judgments we consider philosophically
respectable. His dis-
cussion of unphilosophical probabilities is an attempt to
show that certain forms of judgment that we
take to be ille-
gitimate or unjustified are based on the same
principles as
legitimate probabilities, that is, the same natural
psychophysiological mechanisms.

Hume does not conclude that we have no grounds for mak-

ing a distinction between justified and unjustified judg-

50
 -nts. The distinction is well
founded. But his account
of the origin and nature of our judgments
beliefs is and
correct, then the
method for distinguishing
between justi-
fied and unjustified
judgments must be different
from what
Philosophers have commonly
supposed, of course, Hume is
not
introducing a new point here.
There are two general themes
in Book I of the Tr eatise
. The first is Hume's account
of
the nature of the understanding.
The second is Hume's in-
sistence that, given a correct
account of the nature of the
understanding, the traditional,
ratlonallstically conceived
philosophical systems leave the
majority of our judgments
either inexplicable or completely
unjustified. His best
known example is causal judgment.

As I explained in my first chapter, Hume denied that

there is any faculty of pure
understanding as understood by
Descartes and Malebranche. what is of particular interest
and importance in his account of
unphi losophical probabili-
ties IS the appearance of a non-rat
ionalistic method for
correcting and justifying certain forms
of judgment. This
method involves the use of general rules.
While Hume is
only interested in a particular kind of error in judgment in
this section and is not specifically addressing
the question
of justification in general, l believe that his account of
general rules provides the rudiments of an empirically
based
system of judgment justification. This rudimentary account

51
 - later expanded to cover .oral and political iudg.ents.
There are r.portant U.its to the justification
provided by
general rules, and these
li.rts will be addressed in
Chapter
III- In this chapter my main
concern is to work out the
account of general rules
presented by Hume in the discussion
of unphilosophical
probabilities.
According to Hume, there are four types of un-
philosophical probability. Each is based on a certain
principle of judgment that, while unjustified, is fully
explicable on Hume's account of
belief. The four principles
are as follows:

1. An argument founded on any remember-

ed matter of fact "is more convincing,
according as the fact is recent or
re-
mote” (p. 143).

2. A recent experiment affects us

more
than one long past.

:
longer the required inference,
1
the less it affects our judgment.

4. Rashly formed general rules produce

prejudice which influences our judgment.

Belief, recall, can be generally characterized as a

lively idea related to or associated with a present impres-
sion" (p. 96). Probabilities are weaker or lesser degrees of
belief. Given the mechanics involved in the production of
the majority of our beliefs, it follows that the fainter the
original impression the less vivacity there is to transfer
to an associated idea. The result is weaker belief. Un-

52
philosophical probabilities of
the first sort are explained
by the fact that more
remote memories are generally
less
lively than more recent ones
and thus have a lesser degree
of vivacity to transfer to
the associated idea. The feeling
of belief tends to weaken
over time. As it weakens it
"weighs" less in our thoughts and
has less influence on our
behavior. This might explain some people's
seeming inabili-
ty to learn from their mistakes.
In order to learn from
mistakes, one must be able to assign
equal weight both to
certain remembered facts and to present
facts. And this Is
what a judicious reasoner will do. But not everyone is a
judicious reasoner and, as some regretted action becomes
more remote, the memory of it loses the vivacity needed to
enliven an idea to the degree needed to
influence our pre-
sent behavior.

The second principle is similar to the first. While

the first principle depends upon the change in
authority of
a remembered fact, the second principle depends on the
change in authority of a remembered argument. Hume's own
example aptly illustrates the point:

A drunkard, who has seen his companion

die of a debauch, is struck with this
instance for some time, and dreads a
like accident for himself: But as the
memory of it decays away by degrees, his
former security returns, and the danger
seems less certain and real.(p. 144).

53
 .

Again this fact Is explained

by the mechanics of belief,
"a
lively impression produces
more assurance than a faint
one,
because it has more original
force to communicate to the
related idea, which thereby
acquires a greater force and vi-
vacity»(p. 144).

The third principle— the

longer the chain of inference,
the less we are affected-explains
how "proofs" (judgments
free from uncertainty) degenerate into "probabi 1 it ies"
(judgments "attended with uncertainty"). if our degree of
assurance is generated by the degree
of vivacity transferred
from the original impression to
the associated idea, then,
Hume believes, tis evident this vivacity must
decay in
proportion to the distance, and must lose somewhat in each
transition" (p. 144) . it might be noted that this is only
"evident" assuming a physiology of animal
spirits.
The final form of unphilosophical
probability is rashly
formed general rules. The way these general rules are
formed is particularly important. While following rashly
formed rules leads to prejudice and thus to errors in judg-

ment, following judiciously formed general rules

is, accord-
ing to Hume, the only way to correct prejudice and all other

unphilosophical probabilities. To understand the dis-

tinction between rashly formed and judiciously formed gener-

al rules and the important corrective capacity of the lat-

it will be necessary to examine Hume's account in some

detail

54
 [

Hume supplies the following

account of prejudice aris-
sing from rashly formed
general rules:

An ^^ishman cannot have wit^

Frenchman cannot have solidity;
for
reason, tho' the conversation
e former in any instance of
be visibly
very agreeable, and of the
latter very
;]udicious, we have entertain'd
such a
prejudice against them, that they
be dunces or fops in spite must
of sense and
reason. (p. 146-47) 1 ]

What must be accounted for within Hume's general ac-

count of belief formation is "why men form general rules,
and allow them to influence their
judgment, even contrary to
present observation and exper ience .
. . " (p. 147). Hume's an-
swer IS that "it proceeds from those very same principles,
on which all judgments concerning cause and effect depend.
Our judgments concerning cause and effect
are deriv'd from
habit and experience. .." (p. 147) General rules arise from
natural processes of the imagination. Lilce the other three

unphilosophical probabilities, rashly formed general rules

are derived from the same principles (based on the same pro-
cesses) as all our causal judgments (including "proofs"),
viz., custom and experience.

An obvious question arises here. The rash formation of

general rules is an illegitimate method of belief formation.

Yet Hume claims it is based on the very same principles as

the legitimate philosophical probabilities. What, then.

55
 distinguishes the two, allowing
us to view one as
justified,
the other as unjustified?
The answer lies in the
formation
of the rules.

Hu.e-s account of the fundamental method for forming

causal judgments involves the customary transition of the
gination based on a past constant conjunction.
Thus, it
IS puzzling why he believes that
prejudices of the sort he
describes can be explained by
the same principles as all
causal judgment. Prejudice is one of the more
notorious ex-
amples of beliefs based on very
little experience. But, in
fact, Hume believes there is
another, less fundamental, but
equally important method of forming
causal judgments. Hume
calls this an "oblique" or "artificial"
method.
Hume first explains the oblique
manner of causal infer-
ence in section 8. The most fundamental way of producing
the customary transition from
cause to effect is by experi-
ence of past constant conjunction.
But, having had experi-
ence of causal reasoning in general and
recognizing certain
principles governing such reasoning, we, in a sense, acquire
another, higher-order custom of causally relating
objects of
which we have had little or no past experience.
Inasmuch as
this is an important point, I quote Hume at length:

Even in common life, we may attain

knowledge of a particular cause merely
by one experiment, provided it be made
with judgment, and after careful removal
of all foreign and superfluous circum-
stances. Now as after one experiment of

56
 upon the appearance
"’'''d.
either'^of' th^
draw an inference ® =an
inf concerning the
'

correlative; and as a
hablt"c?n acquir'd merely by
one It may be thought that
Kofi
the effecr°e custom.
" estee.’d
But this diffi-
cSltv^wfn vanish, if we
consider, that
suppos'd to have had
onw ^ particular
effect
ffect, yet we have had many
convince us of this principle;millions to
9^2 ^
this principle has establish'd
tha? like
PLac'd in ]^e circu^i^i^nMI^
always produce like ettects
; and as
itself by
a sufficient custom,
it bestows an
firmness on any opinion to
which It can be apply 'd. The connexion
of Ideas is not habitual
after
experiment; but this connexion is one
com-
prehended under another principle which
IS habitual (p. 104-105).

Here Hume is discussing how we can

attain knowledge of
causes without experiencing past
constant conjunction of the
objects in question. if we are to avoid error, it is
impor-
tant that such judgments be made
only after the "removal of
all foreign and superfluous circumstances".
But the point
of interest at present is not how we make correct causal
judgments after merely one experiment, but, rather, how we
form prejudices after one experiment. The answer is that
after experiencing one (or a few) cases of conjunction,
which does not itself establish a custom, we rely on a

higher-order custom established by our long experience of

causal reasoning. in other words, we learn to guide our
judgment by causal principles.

57
 .

in the discussion of the probability of causes, Hu.e

makes the same point.
Initially our causal beliefs
arise
from experienced constant
conjunctions. But, while this
way
Of forming beliefs is
"first in order ... no one,
who has
the age of maturity, can
any longer be acquainted
with it"(p. 131). But the time we have become
mature (ex-
perienced) reasoners we have
come to recognize certain
gen-
eral principles involved
in making causal
inferences and
have acquired the higher
order custom of connecting
objects
according to this custom.

The mind, having form'd another

tion concerning the connexion observa-
of causes
and effects, gives new force
to
soning from that observation; its and
rea-
means of it can build an argument by
on one
single experiment, when duly
prepar'd
and examin'd. what we have found once
to follow from any object, we
will for ever follow from it; conclude
and if
this maxim be not always built upon
as
certain, 'tis not for want of a suffi-
cient number of experiments, but because
we frequently meet with instances
to the
contrary (p. 131)

The causes of prejudice Hume describes

are not ex-
plained merely by the fact that they result
from causal in-
ference made in this "oblique" manner.
As Hume points out,
this is the most common method of making causal inferences
among experienced reasoners. But his descriptions of this
process have been of its legitimate employment. Thus, in
both passages cited, he is careful to point out that care

58
 be taken to
insure that such inferences
be "niade with
judgment, and after careful
re„,oval of all foreign
and su-
perfluous circumstances",
p. 104). Prejudices result from
the improper or "rash"
employment of general rules,
ignoring
these important conditions.

The rash formation of general rules

not simply a is
case of hasty generalisation,
as in, "A is B, therefore
all
A are B". The problem lies in the
failure to attend to the
complexity of the causal circumstances.
Simply adding more
instances of A's that are B's
may not result in a better
judgment. And, as Hume has noted, when
we do attend to the
complexity of these circumstances,
one instance may provide
an adequate basis for
generalization.
Experienced reasoners are accustomed
to forming causal
judgments in an oblique manner.
After a certain amount of
experience in the world we assume that,
at least in general,
things have causes. (According to Hume, it is only those
who think philosophically or
scientifically who assume that
ev erything has a cause, cf. p. 132).
Suppose we meet some-
one who IS quite witless. The imagination causally associ-
ates certain other features of the man with
his witlessness.
This is not a reflective process; the imagination naturally
associates these features. But the association is to some
extent rule-governed. The association is not made simply by
the experience of repeated past conjunction, but, instead,
by the unreflective employment of causal principles. The

59
 problem lies in failure to distinguish
a
complexities in the
causal circumstances. The feature we note about
the man is
is Irish. But he may also be uneducated,
se- m,
nile, etc. we are not careful to
note and separate the es-
sential from the superfluous
circumstances.
Our ability to make such distinctions depends on our
general experience of causal
reasoning and on our judicious-
ness as reasoners. These in turn depend on our
ability to
employ £ro perly formed general
rules. But, before discuss-
ing the nature of properly
formed rules, let me return for a
moment to rashly formed rules.

Hume believes that careful

attention must be given to
the complexity of the causal circumstances to avoid errors
in judgment, which result from a natural propensity of the
imagination.

When the superfluous circumstances sur-

rounding the cause are numerous, and re-
markable, and frequently conjoined with
the essential, they have such an influ-
ence on the imagination, that even in
the absense of the latter they carry us
on to the conception of the usual ef-
fect (p. 148) .

Having causally associated a certain complex 'object', for

example, (A[1]&A[2]), with a certain effect, B, we are led
to judge B upon the experience of either A[l] or A[2], even
though A[2] is in fact superfluous. This propensity of the
imagination is, in turn, an instance of a more general pro-

60
 pensity: •When an object
appears that resembles any
cause in
y considerable circumstances,
the Imagination naturally
carries us to a lively
conception of the usual ef
feet •
,p. . . .

150). Having established a transition between X, where

X=(A[1ISA[21), and Y, upon experiencing A[2),
which resem-
bles X, we judge Y.

Hume has not yet specified

what basic causal principles
guide our 'higher order' iudampni-c=
juagments. Yet simply examining
the judgments we do in fact
malce and drawing up a list of
rules Implicit in such judgments would not seem to provide
us with a normative guide for maJtlng causal
judgments.
Hume's discussion of the unphi
losophical probabilities shows
that he believed that many
judgments we ma)te, while fully
explicable according to the general
principles of our under-
Standing, are illegitimate.
222222222
Throughout his discussion of the unphi
losophical proba-
bilities, Hume is clearly assuming some standards by which
we judge such probabilities illegitimate.
Equally clearly,
such standards cannot be the kind invoked by
Descartes and
Malebranche. The standards must be derivable from and ex-
plicable within Hume's system, and, according to
Hume's
system, all of our causal judgments depend on the customary

transition of the imagination. There is an obvious problem

of how to distinguish (or why we should distinguish) between
legitimate and illegitimate judgments. Hume states the

61
 problem as follows:

to my system, all
arp nothing but the
are reasonings
effects
and custom has no Influence, of custom-
but by In-
i^^gin^tion, a^d giving Ss
strong conception of any
a strong.
obiect ti-

judgment
iud^en'V^'^'^a'^®'
^°ncluLd,'tha; our
and imagination can
never be
custom cannot operate
on^the^V^^"^
ner / ass \n a man-
to render it opposite
former. (p. 149) to the

If, within Hume’s system,

all judgments are based on
natural
propensities of the imagination, how can he maintain that
our -judgment” corrects the
propensities of the imagination?
Hume believes that we correct
judgments made according
to the unphilosophical
probabilities by appeal to what he
calls "general rules by which to
judge of cause and effect",
which are discovered by reflecting
on past judgments. They
are rules, "by which we ought to
regulate our judgments con-
cerning causes and effects"(p. 145
, emp. mine).
To solve the problem Hume appeals to a "second influ-
ence" of general rules. Hume refers the reader ahead to
section 15 where he cites eight rules for guiding causal
judgments. Commenting on these rules Hume says:

Here is all the LOGIC I think pro-

per to employ in my reasoning; and per-
haps even this was not very necessary,
but might have been supplied by the nat-
ural principles of our understanding.
Our scholastic headpieces and logicians
shew no such superiority above the mere
vulgar in their reason and ability, as

62
 to give US any inclination
them to -Lmxiare
imitate
in deliverina
^-Lvering a» long system
i
rules and precepts to of
direct our iudq-
philosophy. All the rules of
th?o' nature are
this easy in their invention
but extremely difficult
in their appli-
cation (p. 175) 2 [ ]

Thus, we correct judgments made according to rashly

formed general rules (and other unphi losophical
probabili-
ties) by employing these general
rules by which to judge of
causes and effects. But Hume does not claim merely
that we
do in fact correct our
judgments according to these rules.
What, then, distinguishes the general rules by
which we
oug^ to regulate our judgment from general rules rashly
formed to ourselves? According to Hume the rules that we
ought to use in regulating our
judgments are "form'd on the
nature of the understanding and our
experience of its opera-
tions in the judgments we form
concerning objects. By them
we learn to distinguish accidental
circumstances from ef-
ficacious causes" (p. 149). How are such rules "form'd on
the nature of the understanding"? Hume's account of the
"opposition" of general rules is helpful here:

When object appears, that resembles

an
any cause in any considerable cir-
cumstances, the imagination naturally
carries us to a lively conception of its
usual effect, tho' the object be differ-
ent in the most material and most ef-
ficacious circumstances from that cause.
Here is the first influence of general
rules. But when we taJce a review of
this act of mind, and compare it with
the more general and authentic op-
63
 we find
of nature, and de-
strucfiv.
reasoning; which is the
rsnoo rejecting it.
second^ influence
second inf'll This is the
of general rulec:
implies the condemnation of

Irltlnr Tr^
^nH
'
and character of the
i,
T' —
the former
the°o:he;
to the disposition
vulgar are commonly guidedperson. The
by the first
and wise men by the second. '

(p. 149) .

Again, suppose we meet a man

who is witless. Reasoning
in an "oblique" manner we causally associate a certain fea-
ture of this man (his Irishness) with witlessness.
Upon
meeting another man, we note
this same feature, establishing
a resemblance between him
and the first man. We then expect
the same "effect" and conclude
that he too will be witless,
although he is "different in the
most material and most ef-
ficacious circumstances" from the
first man. This is the
first influence of general rules.
If we examine this judg-
ment, we note that it involves making
a causal judgment

without distinguishing the type of resemblance

involved. We
thereby expect the same effect. To analyze this mistake in
judgment assumes we have some standards for
determining cor-
rect causal judgments. These standards are implicit in the
"more general and authentic operation of the
understanding".
Thus, by comparing the judgment formed according to rashly
formed general rules to our "authentic" judgments, we
recog-
nize the former as "irregular ... and destructive of all
the
most establish'd principles of reasoning ..." (p. 150
).

64
 ,

According to Hume, the standards Implicit

in our "gen-
eral and authentic"
judgments are the eight rules
for judg-
ing causes and effects.
These rules are formed by
reflec-
tion on our experience
of past judgments. Some of our past
judgments have been true,
others false. After a certain
amount of experience „e
are able to discern the
principles
governing true judgments.
Thus,
for judging the rules
causes and effects are taken
as standards of causal
judgment
because they are the rules
implicit in our past true judg-
merits . [3]

A natural question to raise at this point is how we

distinguish between true and false judgments. while Hume
clearly held a correspondence theory of truth (cf . p. 448)
he took the general ability
to make our experience coherent
as indication of the truth
of judgments. But Hume’s view on
this issue can only be understood
within the context of his
particular brand of skepticism and l want to postpone the
discussion of that topic until the next chapter. What is
important for the present discussion is Hume's belief that
by reflecting on past judgments we are
able to discern cer-
tain principles involved in our successful
judgments. The
degree to which we will be able to discern these
principles
will depend on our experience and education. Consider
Hume's comments from section 7:

A peasant can give no better reason for

65
 to sav than
commonly It does not go
right- Rn?^ artizan easily perceives,
that Vhe ® force in the sprinq
noifi or
Sr the''"'whe^®l Influence
effect ferhi®' '^"t.al
reason of a grain of
dust,
dust which
wh'^ I?
puts a stop to the whole
movement. From the observation of
se^!
instances, philosophers
fo?m
=1^’'""’' connection be-
tS^^t
twixt all causes and effects
is equally
tainty m
some instances
he secret opposition proceeds of contrary
from
causes, (p. 132) nrrary
.

Those of the most limited experience and education

are
least able to discern the general principles involved in
successful judgments. Thus the "vulgar", following
the nat-
ural propensities of the imagination, "are commonly guided
by the first [influence of general rules] "(p. 150). The
philosopher is supposed to have, not
only far more extensive
and diverse experience than the
peasant, but also, through
education, to have access to the 'experience* of a wide
range of other people both past and
present. in recognizing
the principles involved in successful judgments, he is
able
to establish general rules for guiding causal judgments.
Thus, the "wise" are guided by the second
influence of gene-
ral rules.

One must taJce care in distinguishing between "wise" and

"vulgar" reasoners. The difference is not between those who
maJce judgments according to natural propensities and those
who do not. According to Hume, alj. judgments are made ac-

66
 cording to natural
propensities. This applies to the judg-
ments Of the ••wise"
reasoner in two respects.
First, the
general rules used by
such reasoners are based
on natural
propensities discovered by
reflection on past judgments.
Y reriection 4.
•

Thus, these rules are

simply standards developed
from the
natural principles implicit
in our successful
judgments.
They are not standards
based on rational insight
into the
"essence" of objects, or on
innate ideas or any other ratio-
nalistic criteria.

Second, if we examine the reasoning

involved in deriv-
ing these general rules, we will discover a familiar pat-
tern. To determine which of the
principles employed in our
past judgments ought to regulate our
judgments,
"our reason
must be considered as a kind
of cause, of which truth is the
natural effect ..." (p. 180) . He take past judgments as ob-
jects in our experience and note
that some of the objects
are constantly conjoined with truth.
While this is a some-
what awkward way of speaking, Hume's
point is clear. Gene-
ral rules are formed by examining
past judgments. We are
able to sort these objects into types according to their
success or failure. This, in turn, allows us to discover
principles involved in the successful judgments. We then
judge that all judgments of this type will be successful.
The inference involved in making this judgment is as fol-
lows :

67
 .. a

Judgments of type (A >B)

stantly conjoined with have been con-
success in past
experience

Judgments of type (A >B) will always be

successful

According to Hutne such

, inferences are "not founded on
reasoning or on any process
of the understanding"
. [4] They
are based on the customary
transition of the imaginat ion —
natural propensity. Hume
concludes:

Mean while the sceptics amy

here have
the pleasure of observing a
new and sig-
nal contradiction in our
reason, and of
seeing all philosophy ready to
be sub-
verted by a principle of human
and again sav'd by a new nature,
direction of
the very same principle. The following
of general rules is a very unphi
losophi-
cal species of probability; and
yet 'tis
only by following them that we can
rect this, and all other unphi cor-
losophical
probabilities. (p. 150)

There is one further aspect of Hume's

basic account of
general rules that deserves emphasis.
This involves the
difference between imagination and judgment.
The general
rules for judging causes and effects were
introduced to
explain how there can be a conflict between imagination and
judgment when, according to Hume's system, all
judgments are
derived from the imagination. it is important to keep in

mind a certain ambiguity in the use of the word 'imagina-

tion'. To say that a judgment is based on the imagination
need not imply that it is illegitimate. As was shown in

68
 :

Chapter i, 'imagination' is
term referring to a t echnical

the faculty by which

we form and unite ideas.
But we also
^^^^iri^uish between good
qodh and u j
bad reasoning and mark this
distinction by attributing
bad reasoning to "mere
imagina-
tion and good reasoning
to “judgment". Here we use ’imagi-
nation to refer to the more
frivolous workings of the
imagination. m section 11 Hume acknowledges
this ambigu-
i ty

In general we may observe,

that as
P^°bable reasonings
?oundl"/^"
founded on the vivacity of ideas, !s
resembles many of those whimsies it
prejudices, which are rejected and
under the
opprobrious character of being offspring
of the imagination. By this expression
It appears that the work,
IS commonly us'd in two
imagination,
senses; and tho'nothing be more
different
trary to true philosophy, than con-
this in-
accuracy, yet in the following reasoning
I have often been oblig’d to fall
It. into
When I oppose imagination to the
memory, l mean the faculty, by which
we
orm our fainter ideas. When I oppose
It to reason, l mean the
same faculty,
excluding only our demonstrative and
probable reasonings. (p. 117-l8n)

To oppose judgment to imagination is not to suppose

that there is a faculty of judgment entirely distinct from
the faculty of imagination, that is, the
faculty by which we
form our fainter ideas. in this sense, "the memory, senses,
and understanding [judgment] are ... all of them founded on
the imaginat ion. .
.
" (p. 265). The distinction between judg-

69
-nt and Innaginatlon is
between those judgments
based on the
•""ore extensrve and
constant- operations of the
understand-
ing and those judgments
based on the -.ore capricious
and
uncertain- operations of
the understanding
,p. 149 ,. But
the fact that the difference
is a matter of degree
does not
""ean that each should
have equal authority ,or no
authority)
in guiding our judgments.

Hume defends the distinction in justifying his

criticism of the ancient
philosophers. These philosophers,
Hume claims, -were guided by
every trivial propensity of the
imagination... (p. 224). But, if all of our reasoning is
in
fact guided by the Imagination, then this would not seem a
particularly telling criticism.
Hume justifies the crltl-
cism as follows:

It may be objected, that the

imagi-
nation, according to my own confession,
being the ultimate judge of all
systems
of philosophy, l am unjust in
blaming
the ancient philosophers for making
use
of that faculty, and allowing
themselves
to be entirely guided by it in
their
reasonings. in order to justify myself,
I must distinguish in the imagination
betwixt the principles which are perma-
nent, irresistable ,and universal; such
as the customary transition from causes
to effect, and from effects to causes;
And the principles, which are change-
able, weak and irregular The former
are the foundation of all our thought
and actions, so that upon their removal
human nature must immediately perish and
go to ruin. The latter are neither
unavoidable to mankind, nor necessary,
or so much as useful in the conduct of
life (p. 225)

70
 .

Hume is not
eliminating the distinction
between judg-
-nt and Imagination. „hat he
is doing is, in effect,
redefining the distinction.
One of Hume's major tasks
was
the debunking of the
traditional views of the nature
of
judgment. But to deny that such
views are correct is not to
deny that there is such
a thing as judgment,
which can be
distinguished from 'mere'
imagination. Throughout his works
Hume constantly distinguishes
between conclusions which can
be justly" drawn and those that
cannot; between "wise" and
"judicious" reasoning and "foolish"
and "vulgar" reasoning.
There are, then, standards
for distinguishing between
good
reasoning or "judgment" and bad
reasoning or "imagination"
and to adhere to these
standards is to make rational
judgments. Likewise, there are standards for
moral judg-
ments and to adhere to such standards
is to judge morally.
The standards are embodied in
general rules; thus, to guide
our judgments according to general
rules is to make rational
judgments

Clearly a lot more needs to be said about the

normative
authority of general rules. i have indicated that this
authority is related to our experience of what
sorts of
judgments are likely to lead to truth. This raises ques-
tions of justification and the relationship between Hume's
theory of general rules and his skepticism. The next chap-
ter is devoted to these issues. But before turning to that

71
 topic, I want briefly to discuss Tho.as
Hearn's account of
general rules. This is the only thorough
discussion
of the subject known to me Thonnh
Though t u
have
I profited from
reading his discussion,
un, i
1 tnink
think- It k =o
hasi
certain shortcomings
which deserve to be pointed
out.
The central features of
Hearn's account are as follows:
There are two different
types of general rules.
The first
type "describes a propensity
of the imagination to
extend
the scope of judgments
formed in one set of circumstances
to
other resembling but
non-identical circumstances"
[5 The . ]

second type "function to correct certain natural

propensities which result in erroneous belief or action if
permitted to operate unchecked. " [6] According to Hearn,
these two types of general rule are very
different. Those
of the first type involve the propensity of the
imagination
to generalize and are the source of illegitimate judgments.
Those of the second type are not the result of mere
propensities of the imagination; they are
"rules of the
understanding" and are "corrective, reflective and direc-
tive". They are corrective in serving to correct
[7]
natural
propensities; they are reflective in being "consciously

formulated and adopted. "[8] They are directive in having

normative authority: "we 'ought' to follow them and failure
to do so is a potential source of error.
"[9]
The formation of the first type of general rule is

72
 : [

•explicable in ter.s of the fa.iliar Hu.ean principles

of
resemblance... UO, The second type of general
rules rs
formulated by reflecting on the
nature of our mental activ-
ities and operations...
[11] According to Hearn,
..the outcome
of this reflection is
the formation of rules by
use of which
• •• coJ^iT©ction occurs
occiitq” .[12]
rioi tt
Hearn's description of the
formation of the "firstj-irst sori-"
sort of „ general rules is as
follows

Let us suppose that C is known to be

necessary for the produc-
tion of E. However, when c produces E,
It IS conjoined with D
which is entirely
incidental to the production of
E. The
effect of the conjunction of
D with C
however, is that the imagination
the principle "C causes E"
extends
to the resem-
bling circumstances "C and D
cause E".
The imagination even can be
led to ex-
pect the production of e when
D is
present and C absent. This effect on
the imagination is what Hume
calls the
first influence of general rules".
13 ]

Hearn has surprisingly little to

say about the formation of
the "second sort" of general rule.
He tells us that they
are formed by reflecting on the
nature of our mental
activities, but he does not attempt to show
the structure of
this second type of rule as he does with
the first type. i

believe the failure to do so leads him to overlook an

important point which I will discuss below.
What I have been saying here amounts to a very sketchy
account of Hearn's view, but it is adequate for purposes
of

73
 comparing Hearn's account
of the formation of
general rules
with my own.

The similarities between our accounts

are easily
stated. „e agree that general
rules are both the source
of
Illegitimate judgments. we also
agree that, in their
correctrve capacity, general
rules are normative.
Finally,
we agree that normative
general rules are derived
from
reflection on our "mental
activities and operations".
on
the other hand, our
differences stem primarily from
one
fundamental disagreement. while Hearn claims there are two
very different types of
general rules, I claim there is only
one type of general rule.
Hearn's reason for insisting that
there are two different types of rule is that in one case
rules are the result of mere propensities of the
imagination, resulting in illegitimate judgments, while in
the other case the rules are the product of the
understanding, resulting in legitimate
judgments. But this
is very misleading. What Hearn calls the "generalizing
propensity of the imagination" is simply the imagination's
propensity to join ideas by resemblance
and custom.
According to Hume, these are fundamental
natural principles
of human thought. Hume was attempting to explain aM
judgments by means of the same fundamental
principles, while
at the same time preserving the distinction
between
legitimate and illegitimate judgments. Clearly the
distinction between legitimate and Illegitimate judgments

74
 cannot depend on whether or not they result from
propensities of the imagination.

As showed above, the two

I
"operations" of general
rules described by Hume
are identical in form, m the first
case person has experienced
a
objects of type A constantly
conjoined with objects of
type B. He is then presented with
an object a, which
resembles objects of type
A. By a
customary transition, he forms
the idea of an object of
type
this idea is enlivened by
the Impression of a. He
thus judges — or believes— B. m the second case the
operations involved are exactly
the same. A person has
experienced objects of type A (in
this case judgments) con-
stantly conjoined with objects
of type B (truth). He is
then presented with an object
a (a particular judgment)
which r6sembles uujecrs
obiects or
nf type a
A. By a customary
transition he forms the idea of B and
this idea is enlivened
by a. TO call these two very different
types of rules, one
based on propensities of the imagination,
the other on the
understanding, is certainly misleading.

Surprisingly, after distinguishing general rules into

two types, Hearn acknowledges that "there is no sense in
which these ["reflective"] rules could be other
than empiri-
cal and, hence, products of probable reason or custom". [14]
But, as I noted above, Hearn has little to say about this
point and makes no attempt to explain how these rules are

75
 the product Of custom.
if he had worked this out
he might
have recognized that, while we attribute
preiudice to the
imagination and general
rules to the judgment,
the only
distinction is
between the more "capricious
and uncertain"
and the more "extensive
and constant" operations
of the
imagination.

Hume has good reason to

insist that the two examples
of
the operation of general
rules involve only the
"redirect-
ing" of the "very same
principle". it is important to keep
in mind the task that
Hume is trying to accomplish.
He is
developing a theory of natural judgments.
Part of his
project is to
uncover the fundamental
principles operative
in all our judgments.
The section on unphilosophical
proba-
bilities is meant to support
his claim that all judgments
based on the same principles.
The unphilosophical
probabilities, although not "sanctioned" by philosophers,
are in fact "deriv'd from
the same principles" as all other
probabilities.

Hume IS particularly careful to resolve an apparent

contradiction in his system. He has claimed that custom is
the foundation of all of our
judgments and that custom is a
propensity of the imagination. Yet he admits that unphilo-
sophical probabilities are an illegitimate
method of forming
judgments. Doesn't this presuppose that we have a
faculty
of judgment different from and opposed
to the mere propensi-
ties of the imagination? Hume's reply is that we do not

76
need to suppose any
separate faculty, although
rt Is natural
for us to do so.
The criterion for
determining the legiti-
-cy Of a judgment is whether
or not that type of
judgment
IS Ukely to be true. „e determine this by
comparing it to
past judgments. when it resembles the
type of judgments
that have been successful
in our past experience,
we accept
tt as legitimate,
when it is "irregular”
we reject it as
illegitimate. To correct judgments
based on propensities of
the imagination we use
judgments based on the same
propensl-
Thus Hume offers a unified
theory of natural judg-
ments, which allows for
the correction of judgments
without
appeal to any "pure and
intellectual view, of which the
superior faculties of the soul
are alone capable"(p. 72 ).

77
 NOTES

[11 The example appears

to be from Malebranche:

Pattr/u?ar h?m^,/r7s"7ef^n\a '’^o^r

iudae an Z Frenchman to
i;^no u Englishmen, or all Ital-
ians, have the same character ^

ne he has already seen,

and he gives in
to some secret liking
or distaste for%h2
man" (Search After Truth
in 2.11, 258).
;^^ Passage suggests the Influence
^
Royal Logi^c of the Port

In the part of philosophy

called, loqic
ITrolT
Claim to offer us a light philosophers
clairto
dissipating the darkness of capable of
Logic IS said to correct all tL mind!
thought and to ®^fcr us errors of
rules so
trustworthy as to lead us infallibly
the truth
that
— to
a set cf rules so necessary
without them to know the truth
complete certainty with
^ is -Lii'PossiDie.
impossible. Such
praises the philosophers bestow on
their own precepts. But if we
the use philosophers have made consider
of their
own rules either in logic or in
the other
branches of philosophy, we shall have
reason to suspect the truth of such good
premises” (p. 11-12).

[3] Hume' - theory of general rules can plausibly

viewed be
out of a suggestion made in the Port
Roya 1 Logic

"Sometimes men are mistaken i n

their judgments, but not always; so man
must reason now poorly. now well. and

78
 ,, ,
, ,, m s

r0asoninQ doot1\7
recognizing his Lror ' capable of

error'Mp. 11). future

[4] Er^uiry Concerning Human Understand)

. p, 32 .

ie^’• JonrL^ "-e Rules' i, Hume '

405'-406. (October

[6] Ibid . P. 406.

[7] Ibid . P. 411.

[8] Ibid. P- 410.

[9] Ibid . P. 411.

[10] Ibid . P. 411.

[11] Ibid . P. 412.

[12] Ibid. P. 413.

[13] Ibid . P- 410.

[14] Ibid. , P- 413.

79
 chapter III
REASON AND SKEPTICISM

in Chapter ii, i examined the structure and

formation
Of general rules. i showed how general rules
were meant to
provide a purely naturalistic method
of regulating and
correcting judgments and that Hume believed general
rules
have normative authority because
they embody the standards
Of rational judgment.
m
this chapter I want to
examine
Hume's views on the normative
authority of general rules in
more detail. i also want to discuss the related
topic of
the connection between
Hume's theory of general rules
and
his skepticism.

Normative Authority of General Rules

According to Hume, by examining the

"operations of our
understanding, and ... our experience
of its operation in
the judgments we form concerning
objects,” we learn to
separate the "more extensive and constant"
operations from
the "more capricious and uncertain"
operat ions (p 149 ). .

General rules are formed according to the

extensive and
constant operations and serve to correct judgments
made
according to the capricious and uncertain operations.
Thus,
the steady application of general rules will
ensure that all

80
 .

our judgments „U1 confer, to the extensive ana constant

principles

Hume clearly believed that it Is

preferable or more
rational to conform our judgments
to the more extensive and
constant operations of the
understanding. „e attribute
these operations to the
judgment, while attributing
the
capricious operations to the
imagination. if „e concede
this point, then it is clear
why we ought to follow
general
rules. What is not clear is why
we should make such a
concession. what grounds are there for
maintaining that it
is more rational to
conform our judgments to the
more
extensive operations of the
understanding? We are able to
distinguish between the different
operations by observing
that certain types of judgments
have often been false, while
other types have often been true.
But Hume's discussion of
causal inference has shown that
there is no justification
for the Inference from past
regularities to future regulari-
ties. Thus, the fact that, in the past,
judgments made
according to the extensive and constant
principles have been
more often true cannot provide any
grounds for Inferring
that such judgments will continue to be
true in the future.
If we cannot show that judgments based
on the extensive
and constant principles of the imagination
will be more
likely to turn out true, then what grounds are
there for
considering such judgments more rational than those based
on
the capricious and uncertain principles? A number of recent

81
 commentators have noted that
Hume persistently
advocates the
adoption of what we would
call -scientific .nethod”
and
ticizes all manner of
"superstitious" reasoning [l]
some .

Of the. have ctted

the following passage as
Hu.e’s atte.pt
to justify the distinction:

It may here be objected,

imagination, according to my that the
sion, being the ultimate own confes-
judge of all
systems of philosonhv
losopny
-L t
I am umust,
in V.1
blaming the ancient philosophers^
making use of that faculty, for
and allowing
themselves to be entirely
guided by it
in their reasonings. m
order to justi-
y myself, i must distinguish in
imagination betwixt the principles the
are permanent, irresistable which
and univer- ,
sal, such as the customary transition
from causes to effects, and
from effects
principles which are
angeable, weak, and irregular, such
as
hose I have just now taken notice
of.
The former are the foundation
of all our
thoughts and actions, so that upon
their
removal human nature must immediately
perish and go to ruin. The latter
neither unavoidable to mankind, nor are
nec-
essary, or so much as useful in the
conduct of life; but on the contrary
are
observ'd only to take place in weak
minds, and being opposite to the
other
principles of custom and reasoning, may
easily be subverted by a due contrast
and opposition. (p. 225 )

The traditional method of justifying a judgment is to

show that it is formed in accordance with a justified
method. A method is justified by showing that it is more
likely to result in true judgments. But, given Hume's views
on causal inference, he cannot maintain that
judgments based

82
 established principles are more likely to be true.
Therefore, he cannot appeal to the traditional gronnds to
support his claim that
It
more rational to guide our
Is
judgments according to
established principles such
as cus-
tom. The question, then. Is whether Hume can provide any
Other grounds for this
claim.
It is certainly questionable
whether the fact that some
principles are "permanent, Irreslstable, and universal".
Others "weak and irregular”
j-i-i-eguiar ran
can, m
in itself, provide any
^ i jt

reason for considering the former rational and the latter

irrational. Passmore, for Instance, clearly maintains
that
this approach is inadequate:

"Unphilosophical probability" depends

on
a trick of the mind; but so does
philo-
sophical probability. why, then, does
the philosopher regard them so
differ-
ently? .... In neither case, on
Hume's
view, is there any objective
implica-
tion; in both cases we are led
to
certain conclusion as a result of aa
merely psychological operation....
Is there, then, no difference
be-
tween these two cases? One difference,
Hume again suggests, is that to rely
upon unphilosophical probability would
be to commit ourselves to an 'irregular'
kind of reasoning, which is 'capricious
and uncertain' in contrast with the 'ex-
tensive and constant' principles of
philosophical reasoning (T, 149) But .
why should we prefer regularity to ir-
regularity? To this the only answer can
be, Hume replies, that the 'disposition
and character of the person' (T, 150)
will determine his preference. [2]

83
 Passmore goes on to point
out that this resort
to
individual psychological
preference is worthless in
the
attempt to justify the
distinction between rational
and
irrational judgments. "The logical problem - how can em-
pineal reasoning be justified — vanishes
vaiiitsiies as unanswer-
nn;,n
able". [3]

I think Passmore is too hasty

here. while it is true
that this sort Of appeal
to individual psychology
could not
support the distinction between
rational and irrational
judgment, it is not necessarily
true, as his discussion in
the section seems to suggest,
that no appeal to psychology
could provide grounds for the
distinction. Hume does not
claim that the reason (ground)
for the distinction is the
disposition of the individual.
He claims that people are
inclined toward one form or the
other according to their
disposition. This is a different claim
altogether. One can
admit that whether people choose
their winter coats on the
basis of warmth or style is often
determined by their
disposition without concluding that the
only grounds for
prefering one 'principle' to the other
is individual dis-
position. The same is true of the principles of
reasoning.
Hume could argue in the following manner:
It is a
psychological fact about human beings that they prefer
orderly and coherent judgments to disorderly and
incoherent
judgments. Following the regular and established principles
results in orderly and coherent judgments, following
weak

84
 irregular principles
results in disorderly and
incoher-
ent judgments. People who reason according
to weak and
gular principles are
irrational because they are
thwart-
ing their own aims.
They are like people who
prefer warmth
to style yet, on a
sudden impulse, end up
buying a flimsy
Stylish coat.

Numerous passages in the

tne Treatise indicate
•

that Hume
believed that "love ot
of order
ord^.i-” u
is inherent
•

in human nature.
To note just a few such
passages;

Objects have a certain coherence

they appear to our senses; even as
but this
coherence is much greater and
form, if we suppose the more uni-
objects to have
a continu d existence;
and as the mind
^ an observing
niformity among objects, it
naturally
continues, till it renders the
mity as compleat as possible. unifor-
(p. 198)

The mind has a natural propensity

to join relations, especially
resembling
ones, and finds a kind of
fitness and
uniformity in such an union. (p. 509)
The same love of order and
uniformity,
which arranges the books in the library,
and the chairs in the parlour,
contri-
butes to the formation of society (n
504)

Although this line of reasoning would provide grounds

for maintaining that it is more rational to follow estab-
lished principles than it is to follow irregular
principles,
it appears to conflict with certain other of Hume's
claims.
If the established principles produce orderly
judgments and

85
 he irregular judgments do not, and It is a psychological
fact that human beings prefer
order, then how can Hume
explain the fact that many
(if not most) of manlcind reason
according to the irregular
principles? Hume notes that
"superstition arises naturally
and easily from the popular
opinions of mankind
and that for this reason
it is
more likely to rule the
popular Imagination, (p. 271
He )

also Claims that the "wise”

are generally guided by the
established principles, the vulgar
by the irregular princi-
ples. By the vulgar Hume meant the
Ignorant and uneducated
— in other words, the majority
of mankind. The implication
is that the majority of
mankind guide
their judgments
according to weak and irregular
principles. This is diffi-
cult to reconcile with the
claim that human beings prefer
orderly judgments. The evidence appears to indicate
just
the opposite.

think that Hume can answer this sort

I
of criticism by
distinguishing between different levels of
judgment of be-
lief. Custom is the permanent, irresistable and
universal
principle underlying all of he most fundamental
beliefs of
common life. Hume is not referring to our most cherished
religious or ideological convictions. He is referring to
much more basic beliefs— the types of belief
that underlie
even our most trivial thoughts and actions. When we get up
to answer the door we reveal the belief that the knock was

86
 produced by someone, that
our bodies will .ove as
we desire,
that the floor will
support us, that the door
Is where we
remember it being, and
countless other basic beliefs.
These
sorts Of belief are the
product of custom and are
common to
all mankind. Without them our experience
would be discon-
nected and incoherent.
Hume makes this point gulte
clearly
in the first Enquiry
:

*’*
great guide of
human life. it is that
principle alone
experience useful to
us^^^
us, and makes us expect,
for the future,
train of events with those
ou^ the influence of custom, With-
we would be
entirely ignorant of every matter
tact, beyond what is immediately of
to the memory and senses. present
We should
never know how to adjust means
to ends,
or to employ our natural
powers in the
production of any effect. There would
be an end at once of all action,
as well
as the chief part of speculation.
[4]

Thus, at this basic level of belief, everyone forms

judgments according to the established
principle of custom.
But, at a somewhat more complex level,
other natural propen-
sities that are "neither unavoidable
..., nor necessary, or
so much as useful in the conduct of
life” begin to influence
judgments. Hume has three different, yet related, criti-
cisms of the irregular principles discernable
in the opera-
tion of these propensities:

1. Judgments made according to irregu-

lar principles are "often contrary to

87
 each other" and lead
us to "absurdities
and obscurities". (p.
267)
2 . Judgments
made according to
lar principles are irregu-
the most establish' d "disruptive of all
principles of rea-
soning".(p. 150)

principles "being op-

°iher principles of custom
Ld subverted
bv 3 dne
due contrast and opposition”,
(p.

According to
Hume, we cannot know that
beliefs formed
according to custom are more
likely to be true. Neither can
we know that they are more
likely to be false. But we do
know that principles that lead
to judgments that are "often
contrary to each other", and lead
to "absurdities and
obscurities" cannot lead to truth.
Hume often refers to the
absurdities and contradictions that
result from the "trivial
propensities of the fancy". The unphilosophlcal probabili-
ties provide a good example. Because of certain natural
propensities, "an experiment, that is fresh in the memory
affects us more than one that is in some
measure oblit-
erated. .." (p. 143 ). When the evidence that smoking is dan-
gerous to my health is fresh in my memory,
I judge that
smoking is unsafe. When the same evidence is more remote, I

judge that smoking is safe. Guiding my judgment by such a

principle leads me to form contrary judgments from exactly

the same evidence.

Not only do we know that principles that result in

88
 contrary judgments cannot
lead to troth, „e also kno« that
employing mutually inconsistent principles cannot lead to
truth. According to Hu.e, „e all accept and cannot help
but accept the basic
beliefs of co™on life. At this level
we all employ the egular

Who ^ form beliefs

principles are following
and established principles.

according to weak and

irregular
principles that conflict with
Those

es-
tablished principles. The
drunkard who lets time weaken
his
belief that he, like his
friend, is in danger of dying
of a
debauch, employs mutually
incompatible principles. When he
expects his liquor to pour when
he tips his bottle, to feel
a warm glow when he
drinks and the ground to support
him
where he lies, he is reasoning
according to the established
principle of custom. When he allows his belief in his
danger to weaken over time he is
“reasoning" according to an
irregular principle that is “opposite" to custom and “des-
tructive of all the most established principles of reason-
ing". Given that we cannot give up the
established princi-
ples, the only consistent course is
to give up the weak and
irregular principles.

According to Hume, at the level of basic

beliefs we are
unable to suspend judgment. "Nature, by an absolute and
uncontroulable necessity has determin'd us to judge
as well
as to breath and feel..."(p. 183). Neither can we avoid
forming beliefs according to custom.

89
 forbear viewinq
liaht
^ stronger and fuller
iignt, upon account of thf^ir
connexion with the present
Drf^Qont- •

impression.
ourselves frL think-
inras
ing as long
lo^n'’a as we are awake, or
seeing
eyes towards them in broad
sunshine. (p.

Given the facts ,1, that judgments formed according to

irregular principles will
inevitably conflict with
judgments
.ade according to established
principles then we can avoid
"seeing surrounding bodies,
when we turn our eyes towards
them in broad sunshine”,
it follows that judgments
formed
according to irregular principles
will often be unstable.
"Being opposite to the other
principles of custom and
reasoning, [they] may easily be
subverted by a due contrast
and opposit ion" (p. 225 ).

Not all beliefs that result from irregular principles

are unstable, however. m fact, indoctrination, which is
the principle that most resembles custom in its operation,
often produces remarkably stable beliefs.
But, unlike cus-
tom, it cannot be consistently employed. No amount of
indoctrination will allow us to sustain the
belief that
placing our hand on a hot stove will not burn, that walking
off cliffs is harmless, or that we can breathe water. A
belief produced by an irregular principle can
remain stable
only when it does not conflict (or at least not
obviously
conflict) with a belief based on custom.

90
 Thus,
While Hu^e admits that we
cannot justify custom
by Showing that U ts
more UKely to lead to
true judgments,
he does not conclude
that there are no grounds
for supposing
It more rational to form
judgments according to custom
than
to form judgments
according to Irregular
principles.

t^tnatlon is
allow'd to
enJer PbHo/ophy, and hypotheses
embrac'd
aoreeLie"’®'"®^^
agreeable, specious and
we can never have any
steadv
sentiments, which
will^suit^'
^ common practice and expe-
these
rpmnv^Ad, we might hope hypotheses once
remov to establish a
system or set of opinions, which
if not
that, perhaps, is too much
be hop d for) might at least ?o
be satis-
factory to the human mind, and
stand the test of the most might
critical
examination. (p. 272)

We now have a clear answer to the question about the

normative authority of general rules. Following properly
formed general rules will ensure the
consistent application
of the fundamental principles
inherent in our reasoning.
These principles are the foundation
of our thoughts and
actions and it is only be following these principles alone
that we can achieve a consistent system of orderly, coherent
and stable judgments. Although they cannot be justified in
the traditional manner — by showing that following them will
result in true judgments — they can be shown to be rational-
ly preferable to irregular principles.

It is interesting to note an important and marJced

91
 contrast between Hu.e
and Ms
rationalist predecessors.
Descartes and Malebranche
considered natural judgments
the
source of endless error
and illusion. According to them,
the principles of
scientific thinking are
discoverable only
at the abstract level
of thought discoverable
in the opera-
tion Of the intellect, a
level seldom achieved by
the
vulgar. m
contrast, Hume maintained that
the principles of
scientific thinking are Inherent
in our most basic natural
judgments. According to him, when answering
the door, pre-
paring a meal, or taking a walk,
vulgar peasantsthe most
employ exactly the same principles
of reasoning as the most
sophisticated philosophers.

Our scholastic headpieces and

shew no such superiority above logicians
the
vulgar in their reason and ability,mere
to give us any inclination as
to imitate
them in delivering a long system
of
rules and precepts to direct our
ment, in philosophy. (p. 175) judg-

Although Hume maintains that the principles of good

reasoning are inherent in the fundamental beliefs of even
the most vulgar reasoner, he does not conclude, to his
credit, that the so-called "common sense" views of the
vulgar have some sort of prima facie validity.
He argues
that many such beliefs are simply false. But this is not
inconsistent with the view that the principles of
scientific
thinking are inherent in the basic beliefs of the vulgar.
The difference between the reasonings of the vulgar and
the

92
 [

reasonings of the true philosopher

methodology, is in
scientific method requires
the consistent application
of the
permanent, irresistable,
and universal" principles
inherent
in the judgments of
common life. The decisions of the true
philosopher-the scientific thinker-"are nothing but the
reflections of common life,
methodized and corrected” 5]
.

The Skeptical Limits of

General Rules

Hume develops his views on the

between relationship
reason, general rules and skepticism
in two sections fo Book
I of the T reatise Part 4, section 1, "of scepticism
:
with
regard to reason", and Part
4, section 7, "Conclusion of

this book In the first of these sections

.
Hume attempts to
show how, by consistently adhering
to the prescriptions of
reason, we will be led inevitably to
skepticism about reason
Itself. In the latter section Hume offers what Robert
Fogelin has aptly called his "skeptical
conclusion" to these
doubts [6]
.

For convenience, I will divide the section "Of scepti-

cism” into three parts. In the first part Hume advances a
two-stage skeptical argument purporting to show (1) that
"all knowledge degenerates into probability" and, (2) that,
by following our reason, all probability is "reduc'd to
nothing”. in the second part of the section, Hume links

93
 this argument to his theory of belief, first by claiming
that our failure to follow reason
in forming our beliefs
supports his theory that
"belief is more properly
an act of
the sensitive, than of
the cogitative part of
our natures",
and, second, by offering a
psychophyslologlcal explanation
Of Why we are unable to
follow reason, the third m
part of
the section, Hume turns
his attention from the
psychological
to the philosophical
conclusions to be drawn from the
argument in the first part.
He concludes that, by refusing
to be influenced by the
principles that our reason explicit-
ly condemns, we will
inevitably undermine the authority
of
reason.

There are two features of Hume's

argument in the first
part of the section that link it
directly to the subject of
general rules. First, in illustrating how knowledge
reduces
to probability, Hume shows how
demonstrative reasoning comes
under the influence of general rules.
Second, he sows how
reason subverts itself by extending the application of
general rules beyond their natural scope. The first stage
Hume describes as follows:

In all demonstrative sciences the

rules [7] are certain and infallible; but
when we apply them, our fallible and
uncertain faculties are very apt to de-
from them, and fall into error. We
must, therefore, in every reasoning form
a new judgment as a check of controul on
our first judgment or belief; and must
enlarge our view to comprehend a kind of

94
 ^y, . 1 ,
Kind of caus6, of which
onf as bv
and bv th» ?n^^°^stancy °‘her causes
powers^ mav of our mental
may frequently
f f
be prevented
this means all knowledge rv
into probability, and degenerates
this probabilltv
IS greater or less,
accordLg
experience of the veracity or to on?
deceitful-
understanding, and according
to
to^^the^
the simplicity or
intricacy^ of the
question. (p. 180)

However -infallible" the rules

of demonstration may be,
experience teaches us that we
make mistakes in our demon-
strative reasoning. -There is no Algebraist or
Mathemati-
cian so expert in his science,
as to place entire confidence
in any truth immediately
upon his discovery of it..."(p.
IBO); not because he has any
doubts about the truths of
mathematics, but because he
recognizes the possibility of
errors in his judgments. Our experience of errors in demon-
strative judgments does not lead us
to doubt the principles
of mathematics but, rather, our
ability to correctly apply
such principles in our judgments.
A simple example illus-
trates Hume's point. Suppose I want to write a check for
$135.00. I consult my check register
and note a balance of
$136.08. Knowing that I have often miscalculated and not
wanting to overdraw my account, I recheck my figures. If i

arrive at the same balance my confidence increases; if i

arrive at a different balance my confidence

decreases.

95
 recalculated my balance
I
because i am in doubt
about
original judgment, not
because I have any doubts
about
mathematics. i ac not believe that,
say, 7.5 does not
always equal 12. What I do believe is
that I do not always
judge that 7.5=12. Thus, my belief that my
balance is
5135.08 is tempered by
considering the nature of my
judg-
ment. This tempering of belief is
the result of a general
rule Of judgment: "We must
. . . m
every reasoning form a new
ludgment, as a check or controul
on our first judgment or
belief... (p. 180). It is a general rule of
judgment in two
senses: it is a rule formed by judgment and a rule applica-
ble to judgments.

A possible objection to Hume's claim that (if „e are

reasonable) we ought to "form a new
judgment as a check or
controul on our first judgment" is
that in the majority of
what we consider perfectly reasonable judgments we do no
such thing. I believe (judge) that I am sitting in this
chair, drinking coffee, hearing someone
upstairs, and so on.
In making these judgments I do not
consider the history of
my judgments about such matters and adjust my current
beliefs to reflect the proportion of past
cases where I have
been mistaken. It is only in exceptional cases that I

engage in such an examination of past

judgments. While this
objection is, l believe, ill-founded, it is useful in
directing attention to the subtilty of Hume's view. His

96
 dOGS not TGail i r*o
hat in each judgment
4-V-ir»4-
we consciously
or explicitly consider our failures and
successes in past
judgments. what is important
upon analysing our is that
Dudgments we discover that
our degree of belief is
regulated
by a general rule.
Once we recognise he rule
we can apply
it With more consistency
than is apt to occur naturally.
consider my check register
example. while in certain
Circumstances I might consciously
reflect on my -history of
Check register judgments,
for the most part I simply accept
Whatever balance I initially arrive
limited at, but with
confidence. i do not have much conviction
in my judgment.
My low degree of belief is reflected in
other judgments.
Which depend on this one, and
in my actions. i am wary of
writing checks for the full amount
of my balance and recheck
my figures before doing so.
i am not surprised
when my bank
statement shows a different balance
from my register and,
unless I have just checked my balance
against the bank
statement, I certainly would not place
a wager on my balance
being $136.08.

It IS perfectly conceivable that all

this could be true
whether or not I had ever consciously reflected on my past
judgments. The modification of belief is the natural
effect
of certain occurrences in my past experience (bad judg-
ments) . Our judgments are as much part of
a our past
experience as the objects of these judgments. As the result
of our past success and failure in judging, we
begin to have

97
 different degrees of confidence in our present Judgments.
effect of .y past failures
at mathematical
judgments
Will, then, he reflected
in my lower degree
of confidence in
present judgment. The extent to which
present judgments
will reflect the influence
of general rules
rnioc hdepends on the
experience and intelligence
of the judger:

A man of solid sense

and long experience
er assurance in his opinions, ^
er^assuranc^'-^''^""""”^
than
one
ignorant,... our sen-
timents have different
degrees of au-
thority, even with ourselves,
in propor-
tion to the degrees of
our reason and
experience, (p. i 82 )

In Chapter Ilf
explained Hume's view of how
I
our
judgments about objects are
regulated by general rules
formed according to our past
experience of objects. These
Dudgments are, in turn, regulated
by general rules formed
according to our past experience
in making judgments. in
this section Hume is extending
the scope of general rules by
Viewing demonstrative judgments
as objects of experience,
thus incorporating them into his
standard pattern of causal
inference. Whether the subject matter of the
judgments is
causal relations or mathematics,
the judgments themselves
show various degrees of regularity
in their "conjunction"
with truth. We will expect a judgment to be true, i.e.,
believe it, to the extent that that sort of judgment has
been true in our past experience. The more experience we

98
 have had and, no doubt, the better our natural
capacities,
the more our past
experience of judgments Is reflected In
our present judgments.
The modification of
belief according
to general rules is, then, a natural causal
process. Hume
indicates the causal structure of this process In the
following passage:

question pro-
ovlr thP Tm,; revolving
senses memory and
carrying my thoughts from
fhom to
them / such nh’ior't-e
condom
con-inSn'rq commonly
d with them, l feel
a stronqer
conception on the one
sidp"’°^f-\
than on the other. This strong
conception forms my first decision.
i
suppose, that afterwards I
examine my
judgment itself, and observing
perience, that 'tis sometimes from ex-
just and
sometimes erroneous, l consider
it as
regulated by contrary principles
causes, of which some lead to or
truth, and
some to error; and in ballancing
contrary causes, l diminish by athese
new
probability the assurance of my first
decision. (p. 184-85)

The "natural effect" of judgment is truth. But this

effect IS not produced with complete regularity. We are
confronted with what Hume elsewhere
calls a "contrariety" in
our past experience. m the section on probability of
causes, he claims that the natural effect of a contrariety
in past experience is to "give us a kind of hesitating
belief for he future ..." (p. 132) . The modification of our
present judgment is the "hesitating belief"
produced by the

99
 .

contrariety in our experience

of past judgments.
It is Significant
that the natural causal process is
confined to the initial judgment about the object and the
second judgment about the
initial judgment. We do not
naturally go on to form a
third judgment to correct
the
second judgment. According to Hume,
after the first and
second judgments "the action
of the mind becomes forc’d
and
unnatural... -,p. 185,. But our reason does not
let us stop
with the second decision.
Seeking truth and recognizing
that following general
rules is a means of correcting
judgment, reason demands that
we extend the rule beyond
its
natural scope. After the first
two judgments:

We are oblig'd by our reason

to add
a new doubt deriv'd from the
Of error in the estimation possibility
we make of
the and fidelity of our faculties.
This IS a doubt which immediately
to us, and of which, if we
occurs
woul'd close-
y pursue our reason, we cannot avoid
giving a decision, (p. 182)

According to Hume, rational judgment

requires the adop-
tion of a certain methodology— the
consistent application of
the "permanent, irresistable and
universal" principles in-
herent in the judgments of common life. We ensure the
consistent application of these principles
only be conform-
ing our judgment to general rules.
To apply these rules in
a haphazard fashion would, it appears, be inconsistent with
rational methodology. Reason, therefore, requires us to

100
 spply the general rules hn _n
aii ^
judgments. The result of
reflecting on the errors
in our past judgments
is to reduce
our initial confidence
in our present judgment.
»„hen i
reflect on the natural
fallibility of .y judgment,
i have
less confidence in my opinions, than when I only consider
the object concerning
which I reason" (p. 183).
If we were to
follow the demands of
reason and weigh
into every judgment an estimation of
the veracity of our
past judgments we would
get the following results:
Our
initial judgment is made with
a degree of confidence
deter-
mined by the nature of the
object judged. Applying the
general rule, we consider
past errors in judgments and our
confidence in the original judgment is diminished. This
consideration of past errors is itself a judgment and, in
order to meet the demands of
reason, we must again apply the
general rule diminishing our confidence
in this second
judgment. Inasmuch as our confidence in the
initial judg-
ment depends on our confidence
in the second judgment, by
lowering our confidence in the second
judgment we diminish
still further our conviction in the
initial judgment. Our
original conviction in the Initial
judgment will continue to
diminish with each successive judgment.
"Let our first
belief be never so strong, it must Infallibly
perish by
passing thro' so many many new examinations, of which each
diminishes somewhat of its force and vigour" (p. 183) The
final result of following reason is "a total extinction of

101
 belief and evidence”
(p. 183 ).
inasmuch as this argument has been the subject
of
numerous and diverse criticisms, U will be worthwhile to
examine it more closely.
Hume presents it as follows:

original uncertainty
inherent m
the subject, a new uncer-
from the weakness of that
farni? judges, and having ad-
together, we are ob-
lia'd^hJ^®^®
the possibility of error
in
the truth and
faculties. This is a
donhJ ^"’"'ediately occurs to us,
and of which, if we wou'd
closely pursue
our reason, we cannot avoid
ecision.
giving a
But this
decision, tho' it
shou d be favourable to our
judgment, being founded only on precedina
a proba-
bility, must weaken still further
our
itself be weak-
en d by a fourth doubt of the
same kind,
and so on iji infinitum ; till
at last
there remains nothing of the
original
probability, however great we may sup-
pose it to have been, and however
small
the diminution by every new
uncertain-
ty, (p. 182)

For clarity, l will first present the basic form of

the
argument and then examine each step in more detail. The
basic form seems to be this: judge
i "A" with, say, 90%
conviction. [8] l then assess my ability to make judgments
of type A and judge ”B" — that my judgments of type "A” are,
say, 90% reliable. This reduces my initial conviction in
judgment "A” to 90x90 or 81% conviction. l then assess my

102
 ability to n,ake judgments of type "B" and
judge "C”-that my
Dudgments of type B are only 90%
reliable. Hume claims
that
this reduces my conviction In '.A"
still further. Although
he does not describe just how this
occurs, he appears to
have In mind the following process:

When we first make judgment B" we make it with some

particular degree of conviction n
ction. (I u
have supposed this to
be 90%) . But when we examine judgment
"B" (make judgment
"C”) we recognize that
judgments of type B are only
about
90% reliable and this reduces
our conviction In judgment
”B"
to 90x90 or 81%. inasmuch as our conviction In
"A" depends
upon our conviction In "B” we
must now reassess our convic-
tion in "A" from 90x90 to
90x81 or 73%. This same process
occurs when we examine judgment
"C" (make judgment ”D").
Noting that judgments of type
c are only 90% reliable we
reduce our Initial conviction In
"C" to 90x90 or 81%. But
judgment "B" depends upon judgment
"C". So we must reassess
our initial conviction in judgment
in "B" (90%) to 90x81 or
73%. our conviction in "A" (90%) must be reassessed in
light of our corrected degree of
conviction in "B" (73%) and
our conviction in "A" is further reduced to 90x73 or 66%.
With each new judgment the original conviction in "A" is
further reduced until there is what Hume calls
"a total
extinction of belief and evidence".

Reviewing the argument, we first note that, having

already shown how our conviction in demonstrative
judgments

103
 IS reduced, Hume begins with a "probable" judgment— one
in
Which, given the nature of the
object, we judge with
less
than complete certainty.
inasmuch as a judgment of
matter
IS, in Hume s sense,
a probable judgment,
suppose
that my initial judgment
is "that is red" and
that i judge
this with 90% conviction.
According to Hume, if i am
reasonable, then I should
also take into account the
relia-
bility of my judgment in such
matters or, more specifically,
I ought to proportion my degree
of conviction in this
judgment according to my past
experience of the veracity of
n>y color judgments.
Here, I think, Hume is clearly
correct,
for, if I deny that my
performance in judging colors is
relevant in determining my degree of conviction
in my
present judgment, then there is no reason why I should not
remain fully convinced that I have correctly judged an
object as red even if i have always been mistaken in such
judgments in the past. But to any reasonable person this
would be taken as good evidence
that I lack the ability to
identify red. if i remained confident in my judgment that
that IS red" under such circumstances I would, quite
rightly, be considered a fool.
Even if we concede Hume's point here
a very plausible
objection might still be raised. We are supposing that my
initial conviction in my judgment is 90% and
that judgments
of this sort are 90% reliable. Shouldn't we say that my

104
 .

actual degree of conviction

,90%, is appropriate for Judg-
ments Of this sort (90% reliable) and that no further
reduction is required? To answer this objection one need
only point out that it merely skips the first step
of Hume's
argument by assuming that
the reliability of our
judgments
of objects has already
been weighed into the initial
judg-
ment. This is merely to make
implicit a step that Hume
makes explicit. But whether the application
of the rule is
explicit or Implicit makes no
difference to Hume's argument.
If we suppose that my
initial judgment is made with
90%
conviction in part because my
past judgments of this sort
have been 90% reliable, then my
degree of belief depends on
a judgment about the
reliability of my judgments of this
sort just as surely as it would
if i had made two separate
judgments. But if my initial conviction
rests in part on
the assumption that judgments of
this sort are 90% reliable,
then it is still legitimate to
question my conviction in the
argument

Assessing my past performance in color judgments re-

quires a judgment about a matter of fact, which I determine
by consulting my past experience. l find that my judgments
of this sort are 90% reliable and adjust my original
conviction to reflect this fact. am, then,
I 90x90 certain
that "that is red". At this point Hume claims that we are
"oblig'd by our reason to add a new doubt deriv'd from the
possibility of error in the estimation we make of the truth

105
 and fidelity of our
faculties" In other words,
reason
demands
ludgment

the
^
that

same principle
I take

I
into account

judgments.

employed in my previous
the reliability of my

This is simply to employ

judgment
Furthermore, Hume appears to be correct in his claim that
reason demands this, for the circumstances that led me to
adopt the principle in my judgments
about objects are
exactly the same in my judgments
about my judgments.
When I judge that "that
is red" i consider it an
indication of my good sense that I take into account the
reliability of my judgment in
such matters and determine my
conviction in the judgment
accordingly. But what basis do I
have for simply accepting
such matters without taking
into
account my ability to make
judgments about my judgments?
Isn't this to accept a judgment
as reliable without appeal
to any empirical evidence which
might support or contradict
this fact? This is just the sort of thing
that was deemed
unreasonable in my judgments about objects,
so why should it
be considered any more reasonable
in my judgments about
judgments?

In fact, if we examine the evidence, it seems clear

that people's judgments about their judgments are as prone
to error as their judgments about objects. Given certain
human foibles, we might not be inclined to notice this in
ourselves, but we certainly do not fail to notice it in

106
 . .

others see
people believe that they
have very good judg-
-nt When, m
fact, the evidence
points to Just the opposite
conclusion. There are people who
consider themselves good
judges Of character when
they are not, people
who consider
themselves good Judges of
art when they are not,
people who
consider themselves good
logicians when they are not,
and so
There are also people who
err in just the opposite
way;
those Who consider themselves
to have poor Judgment
when, in
fact, the evidence points
to just the opposite
conclusion.
From these general considerations
regarding the reliability
of people's Judgments
about their judgments it
certainly
seems that reason does demand
that we consider the reliabil-
ity of our judgment about
our judgments in order to deter-
mine the proper degree of
conviction we should have in such
judgments

If I apply this to the case in question, then it

appears that I am obliged by reason to evaluate
the relia-
bility of my judgment about my color
judgment. This is a
matter of fact that must be decided
according to experience.
But here I might point out the
following problem to Hume: I

have never made any judgments about

the reliability of my
judgments about color judgment, so there is no evidence to
which I can appeal. Therefore, I have no way of continuing
my evaluations and the regress must come
to a stop. i think
Hume would have a ready reply to this. if i have no
evidence to support the reliability of a certain type of

107
 judgment, then have
I no
basis for any conviction
in that
type Of judgment. To acknowledge that
I have no evidence
to
support my conviction is
to acknowledge that my
conviction
unwarranted. i cannot reasonably assign
a very high
conviction to an unwarranted
judgment; therefore,
I Should reduce my conviction
in the judgment I make about
n>y ability to make color
judgments and, according to
Hume,
this will lead to further
reduction in my conviction in
my
previous judgments.

I might
also appeal to the more
general consideration
about the reliability of
judgments about judgments mentioned
above. Considerations such as these incline
me to think
that i^atever the degree of
reliability of my judgment about
my color judgment, it is
not likely to be any greater
than
that of my other types of
judgments. But if i reduce my
conviction in this judgment in any
way this should, in turn.
reduce my conviction in my initial
judgment.
The same considerations are going
to apply to this last
judgment, requiring me to make another
judgment about a
judgment under virtually identical circumstances.
Thus I
will have no better grounds for conviction
in its reliabili-
ty than I had in the reliability of
the previous judgment.
This should reduce my initial conviction
still further and
so on for each new judgment. So it appears that, by
following the perfectly rational method of proportioning
my

108
 onviction to the evidence,
will completely undermine
i
my
itial belief. Inasmuch as the argument
is perfectly gen-
eral, it would appear that the consistent
application of
rational method would
undermine all belief.
I have presented
Hume's argument in some
detail because
I believe that,
through their misinterpretations
of the
argument, many commentators
have underestimated its
impor-
tance. A discussion Of the
various misinterpretations
and
criticisms would constitute a major digression at this
point; therefore, I deal with them in the Appendix.
Here I
want to concentrate on the argument's relation to Hume's
view of rational methodology.
This requires an examination
of the second and third part
of the section.
Having argued that reason,
"closely pursued", will
"utterly subvert all belief and opinion", Hume next links
the argument to his theory of belief. The fact that we
continue to believe, and think and
reason as usual", even
though we are unable to discover any
error in his argument.
proves that "belief is some sensation
or peculiar manner of
conception, which 'tis impossible for mere
ideas and reflec-
tion to destroy"(p. 184). if we are free to form our
beliefs according to our reflections, then
we cannot explain
why we maintain our beliefs when our
reflections dictate
that we abandon them. On the other hand, if belief is the
effect of experience— a lively idea related to a present
impression then the failure of "mere ideas” to influence

109
 beliefs is explicable.

Hu.e recognised that

even if we accept this
theory of
belief there is another
factor that .ust be
explained. „hy
should we be any „,ore
likely to retain any
degree of
conviction in our judgments
given Hume's theory of
belief
than we would on the rival
thoery of belief?

Probabilities, which by
thei^ perpetually diminish
th^ original
tne orioTnai evidence, are
founded on
principles, whether of
thouah^^
thought or sensation, as the
primarv
Dudgment, it may seem unavoidable,
in either case they must that
equally subvert
it....(p. 184 )

Following reason in the form

of general rules developed
from
our past experience effects
our initial beliefs. if Hume is
correct in his explanation of
the principles by which such
beliefs are effected, why shouldn't
these principles contin-
ue to effect our beliefs in
our higher order judgments,
reducing us to total skepticism?
Hume explains this by
appeal to psychophysiological mechanisms:

After the first and second deci-

sion: as
the action of the mind becomes
forc'd and unnatural, and the ideas
faint and obscure; tho' the principles
of judgment, and the bal lancing of oppo-
site causes be the same as at the very
beginning; yet their influence on the
imagination, and the vigour they add to,
or diminish from the thought, is by no
means equal. Where the mind reaches not
Its objects with easiness and facility,
the same principles have not the same

110
 ^ natural conception
feJ the Imagination
I sensation, which holds any pro-

tention^ is^ on"‘tl,e^1r

“e^^^h^he ToltSl;
ts uneasy; and the
be inn® spirits
course aVe®“:'' their na^tural
m^nirby^rheTamrirws'" 1"/'’®'^
the same degree,
their usual channel.
a/":henMi®e®y®‘f
(p. 185)
1°
^
Thus Hume Claims that his
thoery explains both why
the
principles of reason cannot
produce belief beyond a certain
P int and why the mere ideas of
reason cannot Influence our
beliefs.

In the final part of the section Hume

turns his
attention from the psychological
to the philosophical con-
clusions to be drawn from the
argument of the first part.
According to Hume, if we follow
our reason we will destroy
all belief and conviction. Including the beliefs that fol-
lowing our reason leads to truth.
Thus, consistently adher-
ing to reason must inevitably lead to skepticism about
reason itself. What Hume has in mind appears to be this:
We can reason only insofar as we
maintain certain beliefs.
If we reject one belief it is
only on the basis of some
other belief. [9] if all beliefs are destroyed, then we
no
longer have any beliefs with which to
reason. Furthermore,
in eliminating all beliefs, we also
eliminate the belief
that following reason is in any way
preferable to following
the mere suggestions of the Imagination. But without this

111
 .

belief reason loses all claim to authority. Thus, if fol-

lowing reason would ultimately lead to the destruction of
all belief, then following reason would
ultimately lead to
the destruction of reason
itself.
The response of the dogmatic
defender of reason to
skeptical arguments is that
such arguments are self-defeat-
ing. Any argument against reason
must derive all its force
from the authority of reason.
The skeptic must presuppose
the very authority he denies:
“If the sceptical reasonings
be strong, say they, ’tis
proof, that reason must have some
force and authority; if weak, they can never be sufficient
to invalidate all the conclusions of our understanding"
(p.
186). Hume denies that the skeptical position can be so
easily dismissed. Skeptical arguments may destroy them-
selves, but not without first destroying
reason:

Reason first appears in possession of

the throne, prescribing laws, and impos-
ing maxims, with an absolute sway and
authority. Her enemy, therefore, is ob-
1 ig d to take shelter under her protec-
tion, and by making use of rational
arguments to prove the fallaciousness
and imbecility of reason, produces, in a
manner, a patent under her hand and
seal. This patent has at first an au-
thority, proportion'd to the present and
immediate authority of reason, from
which it is deriv'd. But as it is sup-
pos'd to be contradictory to reason, it
gradually diminishes the force of that
governing power, and its own at the same
time; till at last they both vanish away
into nothing, by a regular and just
diminution. (p. 186-87)

112
 The Claim that
skeptical arguments are
self-destructive is
true, but this does not
help the dogmatist’s
position. The
Skeptical arguments are the
arguments of reason; thus
the
dogmatist must concede that
reason is self-destructive.
Hume concludes:

‘*’®t®fore, that nature

b^aks tL force
breaks the f of all sceptical argu-
ents in time, and keeps them
from hav-
g any considerable influence
understanding. Were we to trust on the
ly to their self-destruction, entire-
that can
never take place, ’till they
have first
subverted all conviction, and
tally destroy'd human reason. have to-
(p. 187)

Hume evaluates the conclusion reached in this section

in Part 4, section 1 , "Conclusion of this book". We seem to
be faced with the following
dilemma: We can "reject all the
trivial suggestions of the fancy, and adhere to the under-
standing . But, as Hume has already shown, this move would
be disasterous.

I have already shewn, that the under-

standing, when it acts alone, and ac-
cording to its most general principles,
entirely subverts itself, and leaves not
the lowest degree of evidence in any
proposition, either in philosophy or
common life.(pp. 267-68)

Such a result is avoided only by the operation of a

"seemingly trivial propensity of the fancy, by which we

enter with difficulty into remote views of things ..." (p.

113
 268 ) .

On the other hand, if these considerations lead us to

yield to the propensities of
the imagination and reject
all
refin'd or elaborate reasonings",
the consequences would be
equally disasterous.

to every trivial suggestion

of the fancy; beside
that these sugges-
tions are often contrary to
each other;
hey lead us into such errors,
ties, and obscurities, that absurdi-
we must at
asham'd of our credulity.
Nothing IS more dangerous to reason
than
imagination, and
nothing has been the occasion of
more
mistakes among phi losophers (p. 267) .

By allowing ourselves to be guided by mere imagination we

would "cut off entirely all science
and philosophy" and
leave ourselves prey to all manner
of superstition. Final-
ly, we would be guilty of the "express contradiction" of
accepting an argument produced by reason in
order to condemn
all arguments produced by reason. it would appear that our
only choice is between "a false reason and none
at all"(p.
268), yet neither position is rationally defensible.

Hume suggests a compromise. We should grant a limited

authority to reason, following it only when it works in
connection with some natural propensity. "Where reason is
lively, and mixes itself with some propensity, it ought to
be assented to. Where it does not, it can never have nay
title to operate upon us"(p. 270). Hume's claim here is not

114
 simply that reason, in fact, fails to influence us beyond
this point. His claim is that reason
has no "title" (right)
to influence us beyond
this point. it has no right to
influence us because, when
carried further, it undermines
its own authority.

Reason, thus limited, is

simply the following of gener-
al rules within their
natural scope. The general rule tells
that "we ought always to
correct the first judgment,
deriv'd from the nature of the
object, by another judgment,
deriv'd from the nature of the
understanding" - (p. 181 82 ).
The first and second judgment
are the natural effects of our
experience. But, when we try to extend
the scope of the
rule beyond its natural scope, our
reason "subverts itself"
and, thus subverted, has no
authority to either condemn or
condone our judgments. The limitations of the authority of
general rules turns out to be the limitations of the
authority of reason.

The fact that Hume partially equates

following general
rules with following reason has some interesting
and impor-
tant consequences. To follow reason is either to adhere to
the a priori principles of demonstrative reasoning, or to
adhere to the established principles of the imagination.
Although we can know a priori that demonstrative principles
lead to truth, we cannot know a priori the extent to which
we are capable of properly employing such principles in our

115
 This can only be known
by our experience, and
our experience proves
that we .ake „,istakes
In the e^ploy-
-nt of such principles. Thus,
our demonstrative judgments
are subject to the
control of our non-demonstrative
judg-
in the sense that our
belief that our demonstrative
judgments are true ultimately
depends on our past experience
success or failure in employing
demonstrative principles
in our judgments.

Hume has, in effect, stood

the Cartesian view of reason
on Its head. Instead of making our empirical judgments
subject to the regulation and control of our a priori
judgments, Hume makes our a priori judgments subject to the
regulation and control of our empirical
or, more specifical-
ly our causal judgments.
f

Causal judgments are, of course, founded on custom.

But what is important to note is
that this is the basis
for Hume s skepticism here.
Hume's argument presupposes
that rational judgment consists in
following general rules—
adhering to those principles that
experience has shown lead
to true judgments. Hume's skepticism arises from two fac-
tors. First, by consistently employing these principles
of
reason, we will ultimately undermine all belief, including
the belief that following our reason is rationally prefera-
ble to following the "trivial suggestions of the fancy".
Second, this result is only prevented by a principle of
judgment that reason explicitly condemns because experience

116
 .

has shown that it leads to false judgments. Thus Hume's

concern is not that
reason depends on custom-the
extensive
and constant operations
of the imagination.
To adhere to
such principles
constitutes being reasonable.
This is
Hume's naturalistrc
conception of reason. Hume's
concern is
.that reason, correctly
understood, is ultimately
self-
destructive and that it is
only prevented from this
fate by
"that singular and seemingly
trivial propensity of the
fancy, by which we enter with
difficulty into remote views
Of things. . (p. 268)
.

This result is particularly

relevant in considering the
relationship between Hume's
skepticism and his naturalism.
Beginning with Kemp Smith there
has been an increasing
number of commentators who
challenge the traditional view of
Hume's philosophy as primarily
negative and skeptical. Kemp
Smith viewed Hume's philosophy
as consisting of two compli-
mentary elements:

A sceptical discipline to open

[men's]
eyes to the deceptiveness of the
mis-
taken endeavours, both moral and
specu-
lative, into which his specifically
man powers are ever tending to hu-
betray
him, and a positive naturalistic
phi-
losophy to mark out the path upon
which
he can confidently travel without
any
such attempted violation of human
na-
ture [10]

In this two-fold task of philosophy,

"scepticism serves
as an ally, but in due subordination, not as an equal". [11]

117
 Thus, onKe.p smith's interpretation,
the positive task of
presenting a naturalistic
interpretation of the nature
and
function Of reason takes
precedence over the negative,
skeptical task of defining
the limitation of reason.
This tendency to emphasize
the naturalistic element
in
Hume has even led at least
one commentator to deny
that
Hume s philosophy is in
any way skeptical:

pretense Hume's
at skepticism was a literary
^-^^tise With Which to
his opponents and to prepare
reader for a more favorable the
his own theory of the
reception of
passions.... By
the time Hume wrote the
he went out of his way
first Enquiry,
to
explicit in showing that skepticismmo? e
was
^
a literary device employed to
other purposes. [12] serve

But the more common tendency of the "Hume as naturalist-

school is not to deny that Hume's philosophy
is in any way
skeptical but to follow Kemp Smith
in the claim that many of
the skeptical arguments in the
Treatise are aimed at discre-
diting what Hume took to be an incorrect
account of the
nature of reason. Thus Stroud claims that Hume's skeptical
arguments were meant to "show that reason,
as traditionally
understood, has no role in human life".
[14] in this vein
one might argue that "skepticism" about
causal inference is
the result of an incorrect view of what
constitutes the
operation of reason, a view of reason that Hume himself

118
 .

rejects

I confess that I am sympathetic to this view.

As I
pointed out in Chapter I, one of Hume's primary
aims in the
Treati^ was to discover the true
nature of the understand-
ing, and this required an extensive critique
of the Carte-
sian view. I also believe that there
is a good deal of
evidence to suggest that, in
many arguments traditionally
interpreted as skeptical attacks
on reason, Hume was actual-
ly engaged in a process of redefining what
constitutes
reason, reasoning, and being
reasonable. [9] But the point I
want to make does not depend
on accepting this view. What I
want to argue Is that, even if
this view is correct, it does
not entail the conclusion that
Hume was not or was not —
primarily —
a skeptic.

This sort of conclusion seems to

be the result of the
following type of reasoning: If we accept a certain (false)
view of the nature of reason, we are
led to highly skeptical
conclusions such as the conclusion that
causal inference is
irrational. On the other hand, if we replace this
false
account of reason with a correct, naturalistic account,
these sorts of skeptical conclusions do not
follow. Thus,
by adopting the correct view of reason, skepticism is
avoided. of course, on the naturalistic interpretation,
reason is much more limited in scope, but this limitation
is
primarily psychological. Hume's "moderate skepticism" is
the recognition of the psychological limits of reason.

119
properly understood.

Hume's argument In "Of scepticism with

regard to rea-
son" belies this sort
of conclusion. The conception of
reason in this section is
entirely naturalistic. Reason,
in
the form of general rules,
is viewed as the
"general and
more establish'd properties
of the imagination". Its
princi-
ples derived from experience
and founded on custom.
But
Hume's skeptical conclusion
about reason thus understood
is
not merely a claim about
our psychological limitations.
Psychological factors explain why
we do not, in fact, follow
our reason beyond a certain
point. But Hume's claim is
that, if we were to follow
our reason beyond these psycho-
logical limitations, we would
discover the limitations of
the legitimate authority of
reason. At a certain point
reason becomes self-destructive and
undermines its authority
to condemn or condone our beliefs.

120
 NOTES

and Philo^o^V ’^n%ume'l%hou^ "History

'H.r¥o|^=

[2] John Passmore, Intentions

Books, 1968) , p. 60. (New York: Basic

[3] Ibid.

[4] Hume, Enquiry Concerning Human

44. Understanding .

[5] Ibid., p. 112.

[ 6 ]
^ gjsgpticism in the "Treatise
of Human — (Boston: Rout ledge & Kegan PauT7 1985)
20 p. ,

[7] Hume's reference here is to

strative inference, not to general rules.the rules of demon-

merely for convenience.

havp ohoio particular
i

reason ^ forpercentages
the same
Hump' argument does not require that the original
gree of conviction be as high as I indicate
by "90%”, nor
conviction
iudnmpnl be the same as in the in each successive
judgment initial judgment.
[9] Well, not quite. Hume grants that beliefs can be
modified in other ways. For example, they can "decay" over
time. Modifications of this sort constitute the "unphilo-
sophical probabilities". But the philosophically respecti-
ble ways of modifying belief depend on the
acceptance of
other beliefs.

[10] Kemp Smith, p. 132.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Capaldi, pp. 200-201.

[13] Barry Stroud, Hume (Boston: Routledge & Keaan

Paul, 1977) , p. 14.

121
 :

[ 14 ]

admitted ^

deal Of
io.ne.
David Hume Cor^n Sense Moralist.
and
whom argue that at least some
cal arguments are actually ofThTme- s purportedly skepti-
be an incorrect view of criticisms of what Hume took to
human reason

122
 [

chapter IV
GENERAL RULES AND THE PASSIONS

As I pointed out in Chapter I, gaining an accurate

P cture of Hume s views requires
understanding certain pecu-
liarities in his method of
presentation.
As one commentator
aptly described it, reading
the Treatise is like reading
a
good detective story. 1
As the 'plof unfolds, new
]
facts
are revealed, forcing the
reader to reassess earlier situa-
tions and incidents in light
of the new information. This
feature of Hume's style is
particularly evident in the
relationship between Book I and
Book II of the Treatise .
Although his Book I examples of
judgments sometimes reveal
the interaction between passions
and judgments, Hume's ex-
position of his theory of judgment
gives the reader little
reason to suppose that there is any
major connection between
the two. But in Book II, it becomes clear
that Book I
presents an abstract and artificial view
of judgment. How-
ever useful it may be to consider judgment
apart from the
passions, in actual practice they are inseparable. [2] in
fact, Hume goes so far as to claim that every
impression and
idea is attended with some degree of passion
or emotion.

I believe it may safely be establish'd

for a general maxim, that no object is
presented to the senses, nor image
formed in the fancy, but what is accom-
pany 'd with some emotion or movement of

123
 .

spirits proportion'd to it....(p.

373 )

Beginning with the work of

Kemp Smith there has been
an
increasing awareness of
the importance of the
passions in
Hume's philosophy. Kemp Smith directed
attention to the
relation between Hume's
theory of the passions and
his
epistemology. Pall Ardal
emphasized the important role
of
the passions in Hume's
moral philosophy. Whether
or not one
agrees with their particular
interpretations, their general
point must be conceded: according
to Hume, the passions are
intimately related to judgment.

in this chapter I shall examine this relation and

show
how it allows us to
regulate and control our passions
according to general rules. i shall begin with a brief
review of Hume's theory of the
passions.
According to Hume, impressions may be divided into two
categories: original impressions or
impressions of sensation
and secondary impressions or
impressions of reflection.
Original impressions he describes as those
that "without any
antecedent perception arise in the soul,
from the constitu-
tion of the body, from the animal spirits, or from the
application of objects to the external organs"
(p. 275). The
passions are impressions of reflection or secondary
impressions

Hume makes two further distinctions among the passions,

^i^st , a passion may be either calm or violent. The calm-

124
 .

ness or violence of a
passion is si.ply its degree
of felt
intensity. Because any individual
passion t,ay vary xn in-
tensity according to the circumstances, a determinate
classification of particular passions as either calm or
Violent is impossible. But a rule of thumb division
can be
-de according to how a passion is typically experienced.
The senses of beauty and
deformity are typically experienced
as low in intensity
and thus may be classed
as calm
passions, while love and hatred
are generally experienced as
high in intensity and thus may be classed as violent.
Although he admits that the distinction is "vulgar and
specious", Hume adopts it as a useful way of introducing
greater order" into his account
(p. 276)
The second distinction is between direct and indirect
passions. Direct passions "arise immediately from good or
evil, from pleasure or pain" (p. 276). Hume's examples of
such direct passions include desire, aversion, grief, joy,
hope, fear, despair and security. Indirect passions also
arise from pleasure and pain but only in combination with
other qualities". Examples of indirect passions include
pride, humility, ambition, vanity, love, hatred, envy, mal-
ice and generosity.

The operation of the direct passions is straightfor-

ward. An object which produces pleasure directly arouses
such passions as aversion and grief. The indirect passions
are more complicated. Their production involves what Hume

125
 adouble relation of impressions
and ideas" (p. 286).
The clearest way to
explain Hume's meaning is by
an example.
Following Hume, i shall
concentrate on the indirect
passion
of pride.

Suppose I am proud of some particular

house.
My pride
has both a cause and what
Hume calls an object. The cause
of my pride is the house
and the object of my pride
is my
self. When by pride is aroused
"the first idea, that is
presented to the mind, is that of the cause or productive
principle. This excites the passion connected
with it; and
that passion, when excited,
turns our view to another idea,
which is that of self"(p. 278).
The cause of the pride can
be further divided into subject
and quality. it is not the
house per se that arouses my
pride but some particular
pleasing quality of the house. The same subject might
produce contrary passions. One quality, for instance the
beauty of the house's exterior, may
arouse pride, while
another quality, say its taclcy furnishings,
may produce
humility. Besides a pleasing quality in the subject there
is one further requirement for the production of pride. The
subject must bear some relation to myself. i may admire a
beautiful house that has no relation to me, but I cannot be
proud of it.

The "double relation" consists in the relation between

two ideas, the idea of the subject and the idea of the self.

126
 .

and the relation between

two impressions, the
impres-sion of
pleasure and the impression
of pride, Hume explains the
process as follows:

The quality [beauty] which operates on

,
he passion [pride] produces separately
,
an impression [pleasure]
resembling it;
1. [house], to which the qual^
y adheres, is related to self,
object of the passion the
(p. 289)

Thus, the double relation of

impressions and ideas consists
in the following four
relations:

The idea of the beautiful house

and
e idea of the self. The house belongs
to me. ^

2. The idea of the beautiful

house and
the impression of pleasure. The idea of
the house produces pleasure.

3. The impression of pleasure and the

impression of pride. The impression of
pleasure resembles the impression of
pride

4. The impression of pride and the

idea
of self. The impression of pride has
self as its object "by an original and
natural instinct" (p. 286).

More generally, whenever an idea of an object related

to me produces pleasure, it will produce pride, which
resembles the impression of pleasure and is naturally
relat-
ed to the idea of self. Humility follows the same model.
When an idea of an object related to me produces displeasure

or pain, it will produce humility, which resembles the

127
 .

impression of pain and

Is naturally related
to the Idea of
self.

All the indirect passions take some self as their

Object. Pride, humility, ambition,
and vanity take as their
bject the self of the
person experiencing the
passion.
hatred, envy, pity, malice
and generosity are directed
toward some other self.
But, in either case, the
passions
involved depend on a double relation of impressions
and
ideas

The above account is admittedly

a simplified version
of
Hume’s theory but it will be
adequate for understanding the
role Of general rules in Hume's
theory of the passions.
Although general rules enter
into Hume's account in a
number of ways, their primary
role is in the regulation and
control of the passions. This regulatory function is evi-
dent in the following passage:

The passions are often vary'd by very

inconsiderable principles; and these do
not always play with perfect
regularity,
especially on the first trial. But as
custom and practice have brought to
light all these principles, and have
settled the just value of every thing;
this must certainly contribute to the
easy production of the passions, and
guide us, by means of general estab-
lish d maxims, in the proportions we
ought to observe in preferring one ob-
ject to another. (p. 294 )

This passage is curious, for it supposes point

a that
appears to be at odds with what Hume claims elsewhere.
More

128
 specifically, it implies that there are proper or
correct
degrees of passions and improper or incorrect degrees of
passron. „e -ought- to
proportion our passions properly.
But this seems tantamount
to saying that passions
can be
correct or incorrect and
thus reasonable or
unreasonable,
and Hume denies corn
both tnese claims.
=
m
the section "Of the
influencing motives of the will-, Hume argues that reason
can never direct the will (provide a motivation to act),
therefore, reason can never oppose a passion.
Reason is
concerned with the discovery of
truth: demonstrative reason
with truth concerning the
relation of ideas, probable reason
with the truth concerning
matters of fact and existence.
The -proper province” of
demonstrative reason is -the world
of ideas, and as the will
always places us in that of
realities, demonstration and volition
seem, upon that ac-
count, to be totally remov'd from
each other” (p. 413).
Probable reason informs us of causes
and effects. But
knowledge of causes and effects will not
move us to act
unless we have some desire or aversion
to them.

'Tis from the prospect of pain or plea-

sure that the aversion or propensity
arises toward any object; And these emo-
tions extend themselves to the causes
and effects of that object, as they are
point'd out to us by reason and experi-
ence. It can never in the least concern
us to know, that such objects are
causes, and such other effects, if both
the causes and effects be indifferent to
us. Where the objects themselves do not

129
 .

their connexion can

give them any influence; never
and 'tis plain
ery of this connexion,
it cannot be
t>y Its means that the
to affect us. (p. 414
objects are able
)

Having argued that reason

cannot provide a „,otive for
action, Hume goes on to
claim that a passion, in and of
Itself, cannot be unreasonable.
Reason is the discovery of
truth. "Nothing can be contrary to
truth and reason except
What has reference to it...",p.
415). A passion is an
"original existence ... and contains not any
representative
quality, which renders it a copy of any other existence
..."(P. 415). Fear, for instance, is a particular sort of
impression or feeling. This feeling does not represent
any
qualities or relations of objects
or ideas any more than a
pain or a tic)cle. it cannot be true or false, correct or
incorrect, thus it cannot be contrary
to reason or unreason-
able

Note that Hume is not denying that

reason has a role in
directing the passions. Our passions are aroused from the
"prospect of pain or pleasure". Reason discovers the quali-
ties of objects that produce pain or pleasure and it
discovers the means for attaining (or avoiding) objects. A
passion can be considered unreasonable or reasonable only
insofar as it is "accompany 'd with some judgment or opin-
ion" (p. 416). Given the role of reason in the production of
the passions, it follows that a passion can be viewed as

130
 unreasonable in either of two
ways: when it is ..founded on
the supposition of the
existence of objects, which
really do
not exist or ..»hen in exerting
any passion in action,
we
chuse .eans insufficient
for the design.d end,
and deceive
ourselves in our judgment
of causes and effects.,
(p. 416 ) .

in effect, Hume is saying that a passion can be

considered unreasonable only when it is based on a false
judgment. ..«,ere a passion is neither founded on a false
supposition, nor chuses means
insufficient for the end, the
understanding can neither justify
nor condemn it..(p, 416).
This claim has drawn quite
a bit of (deserved)
criticism and
for that reason I want to
examine it in some detail. But,
before doing so, i want to
point out a few important facts
concerning the relationship between
judgments and passions.
As 1 noted above, Hume claims
that passions can be
considered reasonable or unreasonable
only insofar as they
are based on a judgment. One should note that in actual
fact, barring highly unusual
circumstances, almost all the
passions will be accompanied by a
judgment. [3] it follows
that most actual passions can be
evaluated in terms of
reasonableness. Passions do not exist in a void. They are
the effects of certain objects or, more specifically, cer-
tain qualities of objects. The effect that an object has on
us (the passion it produces) will depend on our view or
conception of the object; in other words, the passion will

131
depend on our oeiief.
belief ^ i-i
It follows that insofar 9s a passion
depends on any sort
of belief if
It c
IS o k-
sub:)ect
f -i

to an evalua-
tion of reasonableness.

once the importance of

the role of judgments
or beliefs
in the production of
the passions is recognised,
the role of
ludgment in regulating and
guiding the passions is
clari-
Generally, a passion will
require a judgment about
the existence or probable
existence of an object.
Passions
will also depend on the
ability to distinguish various
qualities of the object and
the causes and effects of
such
qualities. If a passion is to be
reasonable, the various
judgrnants involvsd in amncinn
arousing the passion must be
reason-
able. An example from Book I
provides an excellent illus-
tration of the complex Interplay
between judgment and pas-
sion, while, at the same
time, providing a paradigm of
an
"unreasonable” passion.

Consider the case of a man, who

being hung out from a high tower
in a
cage of iron cannot forbear
trembling,
when he surveys the precipice below
him,
tho he knows himself to be perfectly
secure from falling, by his experience
of the solidity of the iron, which
sup-
ports him; and tho' the ideas of fall
and descent, and harm and death,
be
deriv'd solely from custom and experi-
ence. The same custom goes beyond the
instances, from which it is deriv'd
and to which it perfectly corresponds;
and influences his ideas of such objects
as are in some respects resembling,
but
fall not precisely under the same rule.
The circumstances of depth and descent
strike so strongly upon him, that their

132
 influence cannot be deqf • /? u
circumstances of support
solidxty, Which ought Ind
to giveXm pe?-
away wlt^V/s’ ob”
ect';\"nV’%‘xc°?te"s "a
gr°jtu-rra^r;u
and inlivens the idea;
which lively idea
on the passion, and
i^its^T augments it force and vio-
llnnl
lence; and both his fancy and
affe?-
" mutually supporting each
oth^r
qreat'infT^® ^ very
g influence upon him, (pp. 148-49)

The unreasonableness of the passion can be traced to

the unreasonableness of
the judgment, and the unreasonable-
ness of the judgment can, in this case, be attributed to a
"rashly formed" general rule.
Such a rule "goes beyond the
instances, from which it is deriv'd, and to which It
perfectly corresponds; and influences
... ideas of such
obiects as are in some respects resembling, but fall not
precisely under the same rule"
(p. US). The man's experi-
ence has taught him to causally
associate height with "fall
and descent", and fall and descent
with "harm and death".
But, while his present experience
resembles a dangerous
situation in these respects, it differs from such situations
in an essential way. The properties of the iron which
surrounds him make him "perfectly secure".

Under different circumstances the man might have cor-

rected his rash judgment by a judgment based on properly
formed general rules. But, in this example, such correction
is prevented by the intervention of a new factor — the
133
 arousal of a violent, ainect passion.
The onipinal ,u.,.ent
Of danger arouses fear. The violence of this
passion in-
fects the imagination,
strengthening the belief that
aroused
the passion. This strengthened belief
increases his fear.
”His imagination runs
away with its object,
and excites a
passron proportion'd to It.
That passion returns bach
upon
the imagination and
Inlivens the idea; which
lively idea has
influence on the passion,
and in turn augments its
force and violence ..."
(p. 148 ).

According to Hume, judgments

made according to the rash
tion of general rules can
only be corrected by a
"second influence- of general
rules. But, as the example
Illustrates, such correction can
be thwarted by the Inter-
vention of a passion, which
serves to reinforce the initial
belief. No doubt Hume's awareness of
such "passionate be-
liefs" was in some measure responsible for his
occasional
pessimism about the ability of human beings to be reason-
able. The
difficulty of correcting beliefs
reinforced by
passions is obvious. To modify or
eliminate the belief, the
passions must be lessened. But, to lessen the passion, the
belief must be modified or eliminated.

Similar examples include cases of

religious fanaticism
or deep-rooted prejudices, both major concerns of Hume.
Such prejudices are simply beliefs reinforced by such
pas-
sions as fear and hatred. These sorts of beliefs cannot be

134
 corrected merely by pointing
ont contrary facts
or reviewing
the original judgment
any .ore than the
terror-stricken
-n's belief that he is in
danger can be corrected
by
pointing out the properties
of iron. The best defense
against these erroneous passionate
beliefs is to avoid the
initial incorrect judgments,
and this is best achieved
by
cultivating sound judgment.
Sound judgment consists
in pro-
portioning one's belipf<3
efs to 4-u^ j
4-r^
the evidence provided by experi-
ence or, what amounts
to the samp pit
me thing, following
properly
formed general rules.
To what extent does the
above example accord with
what
Hume says about the
relationship between reason and
pas-
sions? Clearly, the man's fear,
considered in and of it-
self, IS neither reasonable
nor unreasonable any more
than
feeling of pain or a tickle
would be reasonable or
unreasonable. it is only in relation to
his beliefs about
his situation that his fear
can be called unreasonable.
More specifically, we can judge
his fear unreasonable only
by assessing how his beliefs
were formed.
I emphasize this point because it plainly conflicts
with a claim of Hume's mentioned earlier.
Recall that Hume
claims that there are two ways in which a passion can be
unreasonable; first, when it is "founded on the supposition
of the existence of objects, which really
do not exist", and
second, "when in exerting any passion in
action, we choose
means insufficient for the design'd end and deceive our-

135
 selves in our judgment of causes and effects"
other words,
(p. 416 ). m
a passion is unreasonable
when it is based on a
false belief or judgment.
But, in the example, it is not
that the man's belief is false that makes it
unreasonable;
It isthat the belief is
unwarranted by the evidence.
The
man believes that hp> ic ^ ^
IS in a dangerous
-i

situation but has no

good reason to believe
this.
If the example is modified, it becomes clear that the
unreasonableness of his belief
does not stem from the
fact
that it is false. Suppose that the man in the
cage has had
enough experience to be aware
of the danger of falling
from
heights, but no experience
of the properties of iron
or any
Similar material. Such a man would falsely believe
himself
to be in great danger,
but, unlike the man in Hume’s
example, this man's belief and
subsequent fear would not be
unreasonable. Furthermore, just as a false belief
or judg-
ment may be reasonable, so
too a true belief may be
unreasonable. The man might correctly believe
that he is
perfectly safe, not because he correctly assesses the pro-
perties of iron (which we are supposing he has no
knowledge
of) but because a palm reader told him
he would live a long
and healthy life.

Hume is certainly wrong in claiming that

to be contrary
to reason or unreasonable is equivalent
to being false and,
conversely, to be in accordance with reason
or reasonable is
equivalent to being true. What is curious here is not that

136
 mistaken, but that such a claim is completely at
odds With the View of sound judgment developed in Book l.
view that a
reasonable judgment is
equivalent
to a true judgment is
thoroughly Cartesian. On a Cartesian
View Of the understanding,
reason is Infallible. The souroe
of error lies in the
will's assenting to judgments
that are
not recognized by the Intellect
as certain. When correctly
employed— guided by reason— our faculty of judgment will
n0V0iT l0ad us to ©ttot
0 rror.[fat
4] if u
t-p
Humo ronoctod the Cartosian
view of the understanding (and, for that matter, the will),
why should he here present
a view of reasonableness that is
clearly Cartesian? There is, I believe, a very plausible
explanation for this and other
anomalies in Hume's remarks
about reason . [51 These anomalies stem from Hume's
develop-
ment of a theory of the
understanding that entails a view of
reason that is substantially different
from traditional
views. The problem Hume faced was how to
develop his views
about the nature of sound judgment
within a tradition where
the nature of reason was defined
according to a view of the
und0rst anding that h0 rajactad.

Tha conflict batwaan tha claim mada in Book I, that

sound judgmant consists in proportioning ona ' s baliafs to
tha avidanca, and tha claim mada in Book II,
that raasonabla
judgmants (thus, prasumably, sound judgmants) ara trua judg-
mants is simply ona axampla of Huma difficulty.
' s Thara ara

137
 others. For instance, a similar conflict occurs
in Book I
and, interestingly enough, the
conflicting statements
appear
on the very same page.
m
a footnote clarifying
his view of
the "acts Of the

popular View,

ing more than two

that "„e may

ideas,
^^
understanding", Hume asserts

and without
(against

having recourse to
the

a
third to serve as a medium betwixt them"(p. 97n, emphasis
^ine). Hume's example is that
"we infer
a cause immediately
from its effect" and he
claims that "this Inference
is not
only a true seecies of re
asoning , but the strongest
of all
others.... "(p. 97n, emphasis
mine). m
the text of the same
page Hume tells us that
"reason can never satisfy us that
the existence of any one
object does ever imply that of
another; so that when we pass
from the impression of one to
the Idea or belief of
another, we are not determin'd
by
reason, but by custom or a
principle of association" (p. 97 ).
Thus, on one and the same page Hume
tells us both that, in
causal inference, we "exert our reason"
and that, in causal
inference, we are "not determin'd by
reason".
I think these conflicts can be explained
in the follow-
ing manner: As Hume's footnote makes clear,
there was a
then common, traditional view of the
nature and operation of
the understanding. Hume rejected this view in the sense
that he offered a different explanation
of the operations
involved in the "acts of the understanding".
This poses an
immediate problem of how he could intelligibly state his

138
 ]

position. There are two possibilities. He could retain

What he .ight call
the -co^on signification of words",
in
other words, the common
meaning of "reason" that
was tied to
traditional view of the
nature of the understanding.
if
he did so, then he
must deny that certain
operations of
thought, commonly supposed
to be operations of
the under-
ding or reason, are
really the workings of
reason at
all. He must, for Instance,
deny that causal inference
is
"determin'd by reason" or,
as he puts it in the
Enguirv .

that causal inference is

"founded on reasoning, or on
any
process of the understanding"
[6 .

On the other hand, he might maintain that the opera-

tions of thought commonly supposed to be acts of the
understanding and determined by
reason really are so. But,
given his account of the nature
of the understanding, to do
this requires that he assign
a different signification
to
words, that is, it requires
redefining "reason" and "under-
standing". In this way Hume could quite
legitimately state
that causal inference is a "true species of reasoning" . [7]
In fact, for the most part, Hume follows the first course;
he maintains the common meaning of
"reason" and denies that
certain acts of thought are really the
products of rea-
son. [8] One might note that this way of presenting
his
position has considerably more shock value
and is, thereby,
more cohducive to his skeptical position.
But I do not see

139
 y reason to suppose that
Hume ever explicitly
recognized
options and consciously
chose to retain the
common mean-
ing. in fact,
the existence of the
conflicting statements
in his sesms to indicafo -ino'i- -u
xxiaicate just the 4
opposite.
«y discussion of the
conflicts In Hume's comments
on
reason is meant to
emphasize an important point. Hume
claims that a passion
is reasonable or
unreasonable to the
extent that the judgment
,s, involved in arousing
the passion
are reasonable or
unreasonable. But, while he
claims that a
judgment is reasonable when
it is true and unreasonable
when
It IS false, this
is true only when
reason is understood
along Cartesian lines.
m
fact, according to Hume's
own
account of judgment, a judgment
is sound-what we would
call
"reasonable"-when it is warranted by the evidence and
unreasonable when it is unwarranted by the
evidence. m the
example cited, Hume evaluates
the passion according to his
own theory, that is, according
to whether the judgment
involved is warranted or unwarranted.

have argued that general rules

I
serve to regulate and
control the passions by regulating
and controlling the
judgments necessary for their production.
So far l have
concentrated on one type of judgment —
judgment about the
existence of objects (or qualities of
objects). [9] But
there is often another type of judgment
involved in the
arousal of a passion. m addition to judgments concerning
the existence of objects, the production of a passion often

140
requires a value judgment. A proper treatment of this
aspect Of Hume’s view win require a review of hts theory of
value, which Includes aesthetic, moral and political
judgments. Although 1 am still concerned with
the question
Of how general rules
regulate the passions, I thlnjt that the
discussion of the bearing Hume’s value theory has on the
answer to this question
warrants a separate chapter.

141
 , ,

NOTES

Pall Ardal, ^Convention

[11 ^
bicentenary Papers and Value," in
Univ. Press, 1977
ed G.P. Morice (Edinburgh David Hume,
d. G.P.
PP. 51 - 67 )
rWnHJigi;
.

[ 2 ]
^'^’^'’°''^®dges as much in the following
from Book III: comment

"Human nature being compos'd of two

alWte®
all requisite in
its actions, the affection and
certain, that the
blind^mn?'^^'’^' former, without the
direof? e
latter, incapacitate
me^ for society: And
men it may be allow'd
Separately the effects,
tLt =
®dlt from separate operations of
theo ®
,'^°'”P°P®'’t
Thf same ° liberty parts of the mind.
many be permitted to
moral, which is allow'd to
natural phi-
losophers; and 'tis very usual
with the
consider any motion as com-
pounded and consisting of two
parts sep-
arate from each other, tho' at
the same
time they acknowledge it to be
in itself
uncompounded and inseparable" (p. 493).
3
[ ]
qualifications here, both need expla-
nation The =n
circumstance^' ^ highly unusual
AccordinrtrHnme
Hum© considerations.
^ psssions ©r*© impr©ssions
^ Alhhnnnh -KHoir'
different from thi ^au^es ofsenL^ons
(^rfme
heir"Ls:ncl»"c°'’"’'/'’"^ sensations Tn th't
fells particular phenomenal
particular passions are produced by
certain
tain causes
ranc^fo is merely a
contingent fact based on the
human beings. There is no a priori
why pain should not arouse desire and
aversion. pleasure arouse
(There are, of course, obvious evolutionary
sons" why this should not be so). "rea-
G^^^^ting this, it is easy to imagine a
which a passion could be aroused without a situation in
judgment. Direct
stimulation of the brain could cause a passion.
trode in the right spot can arouse rage, fear, An elec-
desire, etc.
Hume would admit that an unusual movement of
animal spirits

142
 could arouse a passion.
needed"\rcrs" passions", is
casually introduces ^ ^
rather
previously described number of
a "n^Qcf
passions differ from
These unusual i^n k
passions not % respects,
but "from a natural pleasure,
impulse or ine^
desire of punishment to include "the
friends; hunger, lust our enemier^and ° 'of happiness to our
439). »«iile U
is pLu" ble
the happiness of our
appetites" (p!
<i®aire for
requires a judament friends *and°^h^
it is noi ^ enemies
lust requires ' a judgment that
stance's, involve one. ^ “p®* 1"'
Hunger o^n th^ °
does not require a judgment. P^ttainly

f41 "Whatever i understand,

from God that I have the because it is
power of under-
f
I doubtless understand right-
1
impossible for anything to
tlkf^
ause me to be deceived.
source From what
therefore, do my errors arfse?
Solely from the fact that,
because the
further than the intellect,
di not contain my
I do
will within the same
boundaries; rather, i even extend
it to
things I do not understand.
will IS indifferent to these Because my
things. It easily turns away latter
from the
true and the good; in this
way l am
deceived and commit sin" (Rene
cartes, Meditations Des-
trans. Donald
,

Hackett, 1979, pp.

L
J / oo •

[5] A number of commentators

ambiguity in Hume's use of the term have remarked on the
for example, lists seven 'reason Fate Norton,
'

"principle" senses in which Hume

ambiguity is not at all
surLisfna^^'"''TV
V to survey current usage fo the
term, one would most likely discover
at least as manv
senses. The sense of the term 'reason' was, and still
is
This sort of ambiguity, although
confLinq at
confusing a\" times, is not particularly
significant. But it
appears to have two different and
^nnf
conflicting views of the nature of reason.

f-^^^uiry Concerning Human Understanding, p. 21.

[7] A simple analogy might serve to clarify
the point.

143
Suppose a society where i
tics and the meaning of ^ considered luna-
the effects of the moo^
'lunatir'^-
/"?urtLriucL^r"°^ enterprising
scientist conducts experiments
has no effect on people's ^ ^
behavior ^°°n
scientist might explain his There are two ways the
common meaning of ^'lunatic' retain the
lunatics .on the other hpnd
certain people lunatics but in
and^^dp^*
h
there
continue to call
no^
refer to people who exhibit ,
'lunatic' simply to
to the ca^se of the beha^^^^^^
other cause, for examnip *• might substitute some
effects of t^heJicarimbai;ncr°'’l®>. ‘he
equally legiti.i:rVor
usage and deny there erp theTcien^isf
inn = <.-
tist to retain the common
and agree theL are lunatics usage
between these two cour^er'he But°’' ,i '
he®
ff ^ ''aciHate
certain amount of confuLon.' "

not ‘hat causal Inference is

S?her e™dfnce"®thai"\°'^ ' ‘hink there is
'reason' T.ia
''5'^ retained the standard sense of
threrid;nce'^' aTe® h "proportioned to
«® «°uld call rational or
iudgments We o reasonable
1 ,
people who generally form their judo-
Ln?rin
ments thie manner rational or
in this
reasonable people HumP
"solid®siLe"“and^ people judgment" or
ntTT’'®who h°^ make such
judgments
"judicious reeo"'^ "wise" or
of restricting
tne descriptive h®“
thfdescriotfve terms
•.
rational' or 'reasonable' to whp+- io
demonstratively certain accords with the view
most part, Hume uses 'reason' in its that, for the
traditional se^se
[9] I am following Hume in using "object"
loose sense that covers individu al in a very
objects, event s and
states of affairs. ,

144
 CHAPTER V
GENERAL RULES AND OBJECTIVE
VALUE

In the last chapter i discussed Hume’s theory of the

passions and showed how the passions
regulated by can be
conforming our judgments to
general rules. i also argued
that the relationship between
the passions and judgment
allows us to evaluate the
reasonableness of a passion. m
this chapter I want to extend
the discussion to include
value judgments. The connection between the
passions and
value judgments serves as the
foundation to Hume’s aesthet-
ic, moral, and political
theories. Thus, an examination of
the role of general rules in value judgments will
reveal
their significance to these areas
of Hume’s philosophy.

"
Just Value ” of Objects

Hume explicitly links general rules

to value judgments
in the following passage from the
Treatise:

The influence of general rules and

maxims on the passions very much contri-
butes to facilitate the effects of all
the principles which we shall explain in
the progress of this treatise. For 'tis
evident, that if a person full-grown,
and of the same nature with ourselves,
were on a sudden transported into our
world, he wou'd be very much embarass'd
with every object, and wou'd not readily
find what degree of love or hatred.

145
 he'ough^ "jr aVtrVbute

P^^^tice have brought to

all ?h light
principles, and have settled
thi
certalnL''^'”^ °t th?s „ust
t!o^ of the passions,‘°
non Produc-
and guide us hv
means of general establish'd
maxims' in
.°“9ht to observe in
^ °‘>3ect to another, (p.
293-94)

TO discover the role of general rules in guiding the

value judgments underlying
the passions, it will be
neoes-
sary to clarify what Hume
means by "just value".
Fundamentally, the value of an object is its power to
produce pleasure or pain. Some care must be taken in
interpreting this. By "power" Hume does not mean to refer
to any hidden force or
principle. m discussing the powers
or abilities that we ascribe to persons, Hume
explains that
"pov^ has always a reference to its
exercise , either actual
or probable, and that we consider a person endow'd
with any
ability when we find from past experience,
that 'tis proba-
ble, or at least possible he may exert it"(p. 313). Hume
concludes that "power consists in the
possibility of proba-
bility of any action, as discover'd by
experience and the
practice of the world" (p. 313) [1] Analogously,
.
the power
of an object to produce pleasure or pain is simply the
probability or possibility that the object will produce

146
 or pain as discovered by
experience” . [2]
While Hume's view concerning
the value of an object
is
fairly simple, his view
on what determines the
value of
an Object is substantially
more complex. it may seem that
there is no reason for
any complexity in this
regard.
Granting that the value of
an object is its ability
to cause
pleasure or pain, we can
distinguish between actual and
apparent value. We can be mistaken about
whether an object
really does produce pleasure
and thus act according to what
is merely its apparent value and
not its "just” value.
Hume's reference to "just value” can be taken simply as
a
recognition of this distinction.

Hume certainly does acknowledge this distinction and

recognizes the importance of exercising sound judgment in
this respect. But his notion of what is involved in deter-
mining just value requires another,
equally important, dis-
tinction. Determining the just value of an object
requires
distinguishing between subjective and
objective value. This
claim may appear quite out of place in
Hume's account, which
is often taken to be a form of
subjectivism. Whether an
object is pleasant or painful would
appear to be a matter
for the individual to decide, for pain and pleasure are not
qualities of objects but the effects of qualities of ob-
jects. Inasmuch as there are considerable differences be-
tween individuals with respect to what is considered
painful
or pleasant, there seems no room for objective criteria.

147
 .

Hucne
quite explicitly denies
this conclusion, maintain-
ing that a person can
he mistaken in judging
an object
valuable even when that
object does, in fact, give
him
Pleasure. Understanding this claim will
require a more
detailed picture of Hume's
theory of value. To obtain this
Picture I want to depart from the methodology
i have been
Observing, which has been
to rely exclusively on
the text of
the Tr_eatise and examine Hume's essay
,
"of the Standard of
Taste". inasmuch as my expressed aim
is to explain the role
of general rules in the
Tr eatise the introduction of views
,

expressed in another, much later

work, requires some justi-
fication. I shall attempt to provide this
justification by
answering the two major objections
to this change in proce-
dure

The first objection is that, given the nearly twenty

years between the publication of the Treatise and the
publication of the "Standard of Taste",
it is not implausi-
ble to
suppose that Hume either developed new
views or
changed his earlier views. While this is certainly not
implausible, I believe that it is false. The views express-
ed in the "Standard of Taste" can all be found, either
explicitly stated or implicitly assumed, in the Treatise .

The problem with working entirely from the

Treat Ise is that
Hume's value theory is not presented in a neat and orderly
manner. Instead it must be pieced together from the various

148
 cements scattered throughout
Boohs ii and m.
ing the theory found in the "standard of Taste", i shall
ampl© ©videnpp o-f the same views expressed in the
Treatise .

The second objection

is that the "Standard
of Taste" is
an essay on aesthetic
judgment and that one cannot
si.ply
assume that the principles
involved can be generalised
to
cover value judgments in
general. it is true that this
cannot simply be assumed but,
fortunately, Hume eliminates
the need for any such supposition
by making clear that
"fixing the epithets of praise
or blame" depends on the same
fundamental principles whether
the praise and blame be
aesthetic or moral. This is particularly evident
in Hume's
practice of using examples from aesthetics to illustrate
points in his moral theory and
vice versa.
In "Of
the Standard of Taste" Hume
argues against what
he believes to be a common
misconception about the nature of
aesthetic judgments. Hume characterizes this Incorrect
view
as follows:

All sentiment is right; because

senti-
ment has a reference to nothing beyond
itself, and is always real, wherever
a
man is conscious of it. But all deter-
minations of the understanding are not
right; because they have reference to
something beyond themselves, to wit,
real matters of fact A thousand
different sentiments, excited by the
same object, are all right; because no
sentiment represents what is really in
the object.... Beauty is no quality in

149
 things themselves: it exists merely
in
contemplates them; and
each "'ml'na
mind perceives a different
ty. [3]
beau-

While the view that beauty is in the eye of the

beholder has gained such
currency that it passes for a
matter of simple common
sense, Hume argues that,
in fact, it
conflicts with another common
sense view. Someone who
Claims the works of Ogilby
to be just as good as
the works
of Milton “would be thought
to defend no less an extrava-
gance, than if he had maintained
... a pool as extensive as
the ocean". [4] Someone might well prefer Ogilby
to Milton,
but this would be taken not
as a mere difference in taste
but as a lack of taste.

To acknowledge that a person can be incorrect in an

aesthetic judgment is to admit that there is some standard
of taste other than individual
sentiment. This standard is
discoverable by general observations, concerning what has
been universally found to please in all countries and all
ages" . [5]

What Hume has in mind here is this:

Although, strictly
speaking, beauty is not a quality of objects, there are
properties of objects which, as a matter of contingent fact,
arouse the sense of beauty in human beings. He likens this
to the primary/secondary quality distinction.
Sweetness is
not thought to be a quality in any object, but the effect
that certain qualities in an object produce in us. The

150
 existence of the independent
objective quality in the
object
and its causal relationship
to our sensation allows
us to
make the objective judgment
that a certain object is
sweet.
This objective judgment
can be distinguished from the sub-
jective judgment that an
object tastes sweet or seems
sweet
to a particular individual.

The same is true of the

sentiment of beauty. [6] Given
the structure of human organisms,
certain qualities of
objects will produce certain
effects on human beings.

certain that beauty and

deformity, more than sweet and
are not qualities in objects, bitter
but belong
entirely to the sentiment, internal
or
external, it must be allowed, that
are certain qualities in there
objects,
are fitted by nature to produce which
these
particular feelings. [7]

The relationship between a given quality and he sentiment

(or passion) it produces is causal and, thus, contingent.
But as long as the psychophysiological makeup (what Hume
calls the nature") of human beings remains the same
there
will be a basis for objective value judgments.

Amidst all the variety and caprice of

taste, there are certain general princi-
ples of approbation or blame, whose in-
fluence a careful eye may trace in all
operations of the mind. Some particular
forms or qualities, from the original
structure of the internal fabric are
calculated to please, and other to dis-
please; and if they fail of their effect
in any particular instance, it is from

151
 some apparent defect or imperfection
the organ. [8] in

Hu.e does not deny that

there can be considerable
variations among value
judgments, not only between
individ-
uals, but even between cultures
and ages. There are a
number of factors that might produce such variation. one
common cause of a difference
value judgment is the
in
failure to distinguish
subjective from objective
judgments.
This sort of failure can be
identified by attending to the
language of the evaluator.
The beetle phobic who claims
that Kafka's Metamorphosis,
is an inferior work is using
the
language of objective valuation
to express subjective dis-
taste. The mother who calls her
daughter's novels brilliant
to express her personal
enjoyment likewise misuses language.
There are, Hume says, "certain
terms in every language which
import blame, and others praise;
and all men who use the
same tongue must agree in their
application of them". [9] To
call a work inferior is not equivalent to expressing dis-
like, and equating the two reveals a basic lack of under-
standing of the nature of evaluative
language.
There are other factors that can prevent the
discovery
of the just value of objects. Such factors include the lack
of "serenity of mind", a "due attention to
the object", and
"all the caprices of mode and fashion, all the mistakes of
ignorance and envy". [10] Hume discusses five requirements
for making correct value judgments: (1) delicacy of taste.

152
 (2) practice, (3) comparison, (4) elimination of prejudice
and (5) good sense.

By delicacy of taste Hume means a keen power of

discernment. The passions and sentiments
depend on our
judgments concerning the
qualities of objects. Many
differ-
ences in passions arise
from differences in ability
to
discern and distinguish
such qualities. Developing one's
power of discernment requires
practice.

When objects of any kind are

first
nted to the eye or imagination, pre-
sentiment which attends them is the
and confused; and the mind obscure
is, in
measure, incapable of pronouncing great
cerning their merits or defects con-
allow him to acquire experience But
in those
objects, his feeling becomes more
and nice; he not only perceivesexact
the
beauties and defects of each part,
but
marks the distinguishing species
of each
quality, and assigns it suitable
or blame. [11]
praise
^

The third requirement for correct value judgment is

comparison. "a man who has no opportunity of
comparing the
different kinds of beauty, is indeed totally unqualified to
pronounce an opinion with regard to any
objects By
comparison alone we fix the epithets of praise
and blame and
learn how to assign the due degree of each.”
[12] It is only
by comparison that we can differentiate
between various
degrees of value. A mass-produced plastic figurine
may have
some qualities "fitted to please" and, thus, have some

153
 measure of beauty. But, when compared to a
Micbelanpelo,
Its Pleasing qualities are
recognised as few and crude
and
we adjust our judgment
accordingly.
Freedom from prejudice is a
matter of framing a proper
evaluative viewpoint. This involves two aspects:
all rele-
vant factors must be considered,
and all irrelevant factors
must be ruled out. A Humean "impartial observer"
is not
necessarily an observer who
ignores his own sentiments, but
an observer who forms his
judgments based on his own senti-
ment only after prejudice has
been eliminated.

We may observe, that every work

of art
in order to produce its due
effect on
the mind, must be surveyed in
a certain
point of view, and cannot be fully
rel-
ished by persons whose situation,
real
or imaginary, is not conformable
to that
which is required by the performance.
An orator addresses himself to a
par-
ticular audience, and must have a regard
to their particular genius,
interests,
passions, and prejudices; otherwise he
hopes in vain to govern their resolu-
tions, and influence their affec-
tions.... A critic of a different age
or nation, who should peruse this
discourse, must have all these circum-
stances in his eye, in order to form a
true judgment of the oration. [13]

The final requirement, "good sense" or "sound judg-

ment , is the most general of the five requirements. Hume
is clearly referring to what we would call "intelligence".
It includes "clearness of conception", "exactness of dis-
tinction", and "vivacity of apprehension" . [14 ] Apart from

154
 [

checking prejudice, sound

judgment Is required for
analyzing
work of art. "Mutual relations and
correspondence of
parts" must be understood
and compared in order to
judge the
"consistency and uniformity of
the whole". When a work is
designed to achieve some end
or purpose, sound judgment
is
required to judge "how far
means employed are adapted to
their respective purposes
15 ]

HOW do general rules enter

into the determinations of
the just value of objects?
The first and most obvious way
IS in discerning those
qualities "fitted to please". As
Hume points out, it is only by
experience, or custom and
practice, that we come to discover
what qualities please and
displease, and thus, the "proportions
we ought to observe in
preferring one object to another"
(p. 294). Experience
teaches us the value of money— its ability
to obtain objects
which produce pleasure. According to this experience we
develop general rules by which "we form a notion of the
different ranks of men, suitable to the power
of riches they
are possest of...", and regulate our
passions according-
ly, (p. 293) We respect (or, more likely, envy) those with
wealth, take pride in our own wealth, or are humbled by
our
own poverty, all in accordance with general rules involving
the power of money to produce pleasure.

The general rules originate from our experience of the

value of money. When, through some intervening cause, the

money "fails of its usual effect", the attending passions

155
 Should also cease. But, because general rules
often contln- '

to influence us
beyond the original circumstances
that
9 rise to them, our passions
may continue to follow the
general rule even when the
circumstances no longer warrant
the passion. We rank men according to
their riches, but
circumstances can counter the
usual effects of such riches.
Continuing to follow the general
rule, we do not change our
view "upon account of any
peculiarities of health and temper
of the persons, which may
deprive them of all enjoyment in
their possessions" (p. 293). Hume points out that "this may
be accounted for from the
same principles, that explain'd
the influence of general rules
on the understanding. Custom
readily carries us beyond the just
bounds in our passions as
well as in our reasonings" (p. 293).

We can, of course, correct such

judgments and, thereby,
correct" the corresponding passions by
another, higher
order application of general rules.
Surveying past judg-
ments of this sort, we will recognize that failure to
discriminate "efficacious" from "nonef f icacious" causes, or
failure to take into account contrary causes, leads to
mistaken judgments. When the judgment is corrected, so is
the attending passion. A rich man who is unable to reap the

rewards of his riches is to be pitied, not envied.

Another role of general rules is in developing the

point of view necessary for an objective value judgment.

156
Passions are aroused and
influenced by a variety of
factors
including the evaluator's
particular relations to objects,
his prejudices, and his
psychological or physiological idio-
syncrasies. our passions tend to vary
according to an
object's relative proximity in
space and time. The passions
depend upon judgments and
judgments depend on the imagina-
tion, which is naturally
influenced aaccording to he proxim-
ity of an object.

Here then we are to consider two

kinds
of objects, the contiguous and
remote;
of which the former, by means
of their
relation to ourselves, approach an im-
pression in force and vivacity, the lat-
ter by reason of the interruption in
our
manner of conceiving them, appear in
a
weaker and more imperfect light. This
is their effect on the imagination.
if
my reasoning be just, they must have
a
proportionate effect on the will and
passions. Contiguous objects must have
an influence much superior to the
dis-
tant and remote. (p. 428 )

Because the passions depend on judgment and judgment

depends on the imagination, the passions will be
subject to
the influence of the "unphilosophical probabilities".
Such
passions will be inappropriate or unreasonable because they

are aroused by a view of objects based on faulty judgments.

Besides, that we ourselves often change

our situation in this particular, we
every day meet with persons, who are in
a different situation from ourselves,
and who cou'd never converse with us on
any reasonable terms, were we to remain
constantly in that situation and point

157
 s

of view, which is peculiar to us.

intercourse o sentiments, therefore, The
society and conversation, makes in
us form
some general inalterable
standard, by
which we may approve or
disapprove of
characters and manners. (p. 603)

These "general and inalterable

standards" are formed accord-
ing to our experience of
those qualities that have been
"universally found to please in
all countr ies and in all
ages" . [16]

Moral Sent iment

Given the role of general rules in developing an

objective evaluative viewpoint, one aspect of their impor-
tance to Hume's moral theory should be
clear. According to
Hume, an objective viewpoint is a necessary condition for
the arousal of a truly moral sentiment.
Insofar as general
rules help us distinguish objective from
nonobjective view-
points, they will also help us to distinguish moral from
nonmoral sentiments. But, while this is certainly a signif-
icant function of general rules, it is not their most
crucial function. General rules can help us regulate our
moral sentiments. But their major significance is in regu-

lating our moral judgments.

It is impossible to appreciate the extent of the

influence of general rules in Hume's moral theory without
making a clear distinction between moral sentiments and

158
 .

moral judgments, m fact, I think it is impossible to

fully
understand Hume's moral theory
without being clear on this
distinction. i „in support both these claims and, at
the
same time, attempt to explalin
the relationship between
judgment and sentiment by examining
the shortcomings of an
account that falls to make an adequate distinction
between
the two. The account I have in mind is found in Thomas
Hearn's article "General Rules and Moral Sentiments
in
Hume's Treatise "

Hearn points out that, according to Hume, "our senti-

ments are subject to influences which,
if uncorrected, would
render morality and moral discourse
impossible" [17] He .

lists what he calls four "general rules"

for correcting
moral sentiments.

(1) Our sentiments must reflect a point

of view which abstracts from accidental
relations in space and time between the
observer and the object of evaluation.
(2) The moral sentiments must be founded
upon a general and impartial conception
of their object. (3) They must reflect
an entirely adequate conception of the
object. (4) They must have the motives
and character of agents as their ulti-
mate object. [18]

Hearn does not discuss the relationship between judg-

ment and sentiment; thus he has no account of just how this

correction of the sentiments is achieved. I have already

explained how sentiments are corrected, and it should be

159
clear from my description that what Hearn calls "general
rules are not
really rules at all, but,
rather, necessary
conditions for objective moral
judgments. it would be more
accurate to say that we satisfy
these conditions by forming
our judgments according to
general rules.
The first and second conditions will
met when we be
eliminate subjective elements
from our judgments. This is
achieved by eliminating prejudice
and disregarding personal
Idiosyncrasies. The third condition will be met
when we
discern the qualities of objects that
are "fitted" to please
or displease, which Involves
distinguishing real from appar-
ent qualities. Hearn's fourth condition is a distinguishing
feature of moral evaluation. Moral
value is distinguishable
from non-moral value by its object.
"The pain or pleasure,
which arises from the general survey or
view of any action
or quality of the mind constitutes
, it vice or virtue" (p.
614 ) .

having introduced the "rules" for correcting moral

sentiments, Hearn attempts to specify the connection
between
reason, the calm passions, and general rules. The connec-
tion, he believes, can be found in the following passages
from the Treatise:

But however the general principles of

our blame or praise may be corrected by
those other principles, 'tis certain
they are not altogether efficacious, nor
do our passions often correspond entire-
ly to the present theory. "Tis seldom

160
 men heartily love what lies
tance from them, and what noat a dis-
dounds to their particular way re-
benefit; as
tis no less rare to meet with
persons
pardon another any opposition
their^^
their interest, however to
justifiable that
opposition may be by the general
rules
contented with
sLina^^^^?\
ying, that reason requires
such an
impartial conduct, but that 'tis
we can bring ourselves to seldom
it, and that
our passions do not readily
follow the
eterminations of our judgment. *

language will be easily understood,This

we consider what we formerly if
said con-
cerning that reason which is able to
,
oppose our passion; and which we
have
found to be nothing but a general
calm
determination of the passions, founded
on some distant view or reflection,
(p.
583 )

Here Hume describes how the natural

tendencies of our
passions are corrected by other principles
— general rules.
Although these rules do not always correct our passions,
Hearn notes that "they are said to be the
determinations of
our judgment and reason". [19] He concludes:

The sense of reason involved here is

then related to the calm passions. What
I principally want to note is that Hume
makes it abundantly plain here that a
calm passion is a corrected passion, one
that has been tested by these general
rules. [20]

In explaining our tendency to confuse the calm passions

with the "determinations of reason", Hume stresses the

similarity in the way they "feel". Both reason and calm
passions produce little or no sensible emotion. "When any

161
 . ]

... passions are calm, and cause no disorder in

the soul,
they are very readily taken
of for the determinations
reason, and are suppos'd to proceed
from the same faculty.
With that, which judges of truth and
falsehood" (p. 4i7) .

Hearn argues that the calm passions

are corrected passions;
they are precisely ... those
states we achieve by following
reflective procedures" [21] He concludes that "the rela-
.

tionship between reason and the calm

passions is closer than
Hume sometimes seems to suggest ”.[
22
I agree with Hearn in his emphasis on the
importance of
general rules in determining the reasonableness of the
passions. But I think his attempt to link general rules to
"reasonable" passions by equating calm passions with cor-
rected passions is a mistake. it is a mistake in two
senses. First, it is a mistake in interpretation; it mis-
identifies the actual place of general rules in correcting
the passions. Second, it is a mistake in method. Appeal-
ing to Hume's notion of the calm passions sheds little
light
on the relationship between the passions and general rules.

As I will show below, it actually tends to obscure the

relationship

A number of problems arise from Hearn's failure to make

any clear distinction between passions and judgments . [23]

For instance, consider the consequences of two of his

claims: (1) A calm passion is a passion corrected by general

rules, and (2) Only a passion can correct a passion.

162
Together these imply ,3) general rules are also passions.
Surely hearn does not want to
make such a claim. To say
that the rule' that "moral sentiments
must be founded upon
a general and impartial
conception of their object" is a
passion makes no sense whatsoever.

Furthermore, it is clear how a passion can oppose a

passion. I know what it means to say that anger can
overcome fear, or that disgust can
oppose curiosity. But it
IS not at all clear how a passion can correct a passion.
Talk of correction only makes sense
by making some reference
to judgment. Hume is quite clear on this point.
Finally, Hearn's interpretation entails
that a passion
can only be corrected by employing a corrected passion.
This seems to involve a troublesome regress. I am not sure
of this because, as I noted above, it is unclear what it
means to say that a passion can correct a passion. But if
it is viewed as analogous to judgment (and, I confess, I do
not know how else to view it) , then it is analogous to
saying that we can correct a judgment only by employing a

judgment. It is difficult to see how we could

ever get any process of correction going under such circum-

stances .

These sort of difficulties would have been avoided by a

more detailed examination of the relation between moral

sentiments and moral judgments. What Hume is claiming in

163
the passage cited is that
our sentin,ents do not always
agree
With our moral judgments.
Numerous commentators have noted
that, according to Hume,
a moral judgment must be
made from
a certain "general" or
objective point of view. This is
certainly true, but it is important
to be clear on just what
Hume means by judging from such
a viewpoint. I think a more

accurate way of describing Hume’s

view is to say that, to
judge morally is to judge ^ one occupied a moral
(objective) viewpoint. The point is that we can judge as if
we were free from subjective influences without, in fact,
being free from subjective influences.
This is exactly what
happens when we judge someone we loath
virtuous. Our per-
sonal sentiment may prevent us from actually viewing the
person objectively, yet we recognize that moral
a judgment
requires an objective viewpoint and we make the
sort of
judgment that we know would result from such a viewpoint.
A moral sentiment is aroused when we actually
achieve a
moral viewpoint. When our view is completely free of sub-
jective influences, the sentiment we feel will be a truly
moral sentiment. Thus moral sentiments arise only under
ideal conditions and Hume's frequent reminders that people

rarely manage to match their sentiments to their judgments

indicates his recognition of this fact.

If this interpretation is correct, then particular

moral judgments are not always based on moral sentiments.
Having a genuinely objective view of a person's character is

164
 .

not a necessary condition for making

a „,oral judgment. All
that is necessary for moral judgment is that we recognize
what an objective view involves and that we form our
judgment ^ if this were the view we
actually have. This is
achieved by forming our judgments
according to general
rules

Hume's comments leading up to the quoted passages

strongly support this Interpretation.
He first notes that,
if we were to judge characters
-only as they appear from our
peculiar point of view", it would be impossible for us "to
converse together on any reasonable terms"
(p. 581). We
avoid this by fixing on "some steady and general point of
view; and always, in our thoughts, place ourselves in them,
whatever may be our present situation" (p. 581-82). Hume
compares this to our manner of judging beauty.
Our senti-
ment may vary according to the distance of the object
viewed. But when we judge a distant object beautiful, we
judge according to the effect we Icnow it would have if it
were near. We judge it beautiful "because we Icnow what
effect it will have in such a position, and by that
reflection we correct its momentary appearance" (p. 582).
Clearly Hume does not want to suggest that maJcing
an aesthetic judgment requires actually viewing objects from

close by. We need only judge them as if we viewed them from

close by. The same is true of a moral viewpoint. Our

165
actual view of a person may not be free of subjective
factors, but we judge as if it were
free of them.

In general, all sentiments of

or praise are variable according blame
to our
situation of nearness or remoteness,
with ^regard to the person blam'd
or
prais'd, and according to the
present
disposition of our mind. But these
variations we regard not in our general
decisions, but still apply the terms
expressive of our liking or dislike,
in
the same manner, as if we remain'd
in
one point of view. Experience soon
teaches us this method of correcting our
language, where the sentiments are more
stubborn and inalterable. (p. 582 )

General rules can actually change our passions by

correcting our judgments about the objects that arouse our
passions. But, more importantly, general rules allow the
possibility of making genuine moral judgments when we do
not
or cannot correct our passions. Even when I cannot help
viewing someone as my enemy and feeling dislike, I know what
my sentiment would be towards someone with the same
charac-
ter who is not my enemy, and this enables me to judge an
enemy as if my view were objective.

Keeping this distinction between passions and judgments

in mind, I shall now return to examine Hearn's view of the

calm passions. While Hearn claims that the calm passions

are corrected passions — passions "founded on reflection" — he
does not want to claim that this is the only characterizing

feature of calm passions. He merely holds that "at least

166
one sense in which passions are calm is
when they are
corrected by rules". [24] Hearn can thus agree with Ardal
that a calm passion is one which
"on most occasions involves
low emotional intensity" , [25] yet argue that this low
intensity is a natural result of correcting a passion.
This
interpretation also lends credence to
Hearn's view that
"calm passions precisely are those
states we achieve by
following reflective procedures" and
are, thereby, "reason-
able in the ordinary way of talking"
. [26]

This IS a very tidy picture, but it is far too

simplistic. It entirely overlooks the fact that, among the
calm passions often mistaken for reason, Hume lists such
passions as benevolence and resentment, the love of life,
and kindness to children' (p. 417). Such calm passions cer-
tainly are not corrected passions. Thus, not all calm
passions are corrected passions. Furthermore, while it may
be true that a passion that has been corrected will be low

in intensity and thus experienced as calm, this is equally

true of violent passions. l might correct my anger by

correcting my judgment. As the result of such correction, I

might reduce my anger to the point of calmness. But a

corrected violent passion is still a violent passion (a

passion that is generally high in intensity) even when the

correction results in experiencing it as calm. So, not all

corrected passions are calm passions.

If not all calm passions are corrected passions, and

167
not all corrected passions are cal.
passions,
is there
anything left to Hearn-s claim
that a calm passion is a
corrected passion? Given the
various other claims that
Hearn makes, the only recourse
that I can think of would be
for him to argue along the
following lines: Admittedly, any
passion may be corrected by review
and reflection. But
review and reflection are necessary conditions for moral
sentiments, and this explains why the moral sentiments are
calm passions. A moral sentiment is aroused only upon a
"distant view". Such a view requires the correction of our
natural sentiments by reflection. Moral sentiments are just
"those states we achieve by following reflective
proce-
dures . [27] This is not true of the violent passions. Re-
flection may be used to correct or modify a violent passion,
but reflection is not a necessary condition
for its arousal.
If this is the position Hearn has in mind, then his
talk of calm passions obscures the point, which is merely
that moral sentiments are corrected passions. Calmness is

merely an incidental by-product of correction. But even

this more limited claim is incorrect. Its mistake lies in
the assumption that the objective viewpoint necessary for
the arousal of moral sentiments can be achieved only by
reflection and correction. According to Hume, an objective
viewpoint is a necessary condition for the arousal of moral
sentiments, but there is nothing in Hume's theory that says

168
 such a Viewpoint can be achieved only by a process of
correction.

Hume held that all (or, at least, most) people )tnow

from experience the sentiments
aroused in them when observ-
ing "qualities of mind"
objectively. i know the approval I
have felt when observing
benevolence that neither hinders
nor serves my own interests.
My viewpoint in such circum-
stances was naturally objective,
it required no particular
reflection or correction. Yet my approval
was moral approv-
al all the same. Hume believed that, given the similarity
of human beings, anyone in relevantly similar circumstances
Will experience the same sentiment upon observing similar
qualities of mind. Our experience of this causal relation-
ship allows us to form general rules.
These general rules
guide our judgments, allowing us to adjust
our judgments to
varying circumstances.

When, for instance, I have some personal quarrel with a

benevolent person, my sentiment is likely to differ from

those observers who have no such quarrel. Recognizing that
my quarrel acts as a contrary cause, I am able to adjust my
judgment by following general rules. My experience of a

naturally objective viewpoint serves as the basis for form-

ing general rules that guide my judgments when I am influ-

enced by nonobjective factors.

Hearn and I agree that general rules are an essential

element in Hume's moral theory. But we disagree on their

169
 function.
Hearn claims that moral sentiments
are calm pas-
sions and that calm passions
are passions corrected by
general rules. Thus, a moral sentiment is simply
a passion
corrected by general rules. Such
passions can be said to be
reasonable because they are the
result of reflective proce-
dures. I argue that following general rules
allows us to
make the sort of objective value
judgments necessary or
genuinely moral judgments . The importance of general rules
IS not that they correct passions, thereby producing moral
sentiments, but that they allow us to make moral judgments
even in the absence of moral sentiments.

The Rules of Justice

An account of general rules in the Treatise would not

be complete without some mention of the rules of
justice. A
full treatment of this subject would require a thorough
analysis of Hume's theory of justice, a large topic in
itself. I shall confine myself to the modest task of
outlining those aspects of Hume's theory which are most
essential for understanding the operations of general rules.

I shall then examine certain parallels between the role of

general rules in Hume's theory of justice and their role in

his theory of judgment.

A virtue, according to Hume, is any quality of mind

that produces a certain sort of pleasure, vice a quality of

170
mind that produces a certain sort of pain. The qualities
that produce moral pleasure are
those that are agreeable or
useful to the person possessing
the qualities or to others.
Hume makes a distinction between two types of virtue:
natural and artificial. a virtue is natural when
(1) people
are naturally inclined to be
motivated by it (naturally
possess it) and (2) people are naturally
inclined to approve
of It. The paradigm natural virtue is benevolence.
People
have a natural tendency towards
benevolence, albeit in
varying degrees. Hume denies that we have any such passion
as "the love of mankind, merely as such"(p. 481), but this
is not incompatible with the claim that we are naturally
endowed with a more limited benevolence, which is strongest
towards our friends and acquaintances and more limited
towards "strangers and indifferent persons"
(p. 488). Benevo-
lence also elicits our natural approval.

Artificial virtues depend on the "invention or contriv-

ance" of man. People do not naturally posses such virtues

(they have no natural or original motivation to them) nor
,

are people naturally inclined to approve of them. The

artificial virtues become virtues only within some order of
convention, which provides their motivation. Justice is a

paradigm artificial virtue. There is no original motivation

to the sorts of behavior we call 'just' , nor is there any
natural tendency to approve of such behavior. To illustrate

his point, Hume considers an example of just behavior:

171
rsturning borrowed money.

What motivation might someone have to return borrowed

money? The most obvious answer would be
“a sense of duty
and obligation” (p. 479). But, Hume claims, the regard for
the virtue of an action could never
be the original motlva-
tion for that action:

We can never have a regard to the

virtue
of an action, unless the action be
ante-
cedently virtuous. No action can be
virtuous, but so far as it proceeds from
a virtuous motive. A virtuous motive
must precede the regard to the virtue;
and 'tis impossible, that the virtuous
motive and the regard to the virtue can
be the same. (p. 480)

It is a "sophistry" to say that what makes an action

virtuous is a virtuous motive and what makes a motive
is regard for the virtue of the action. This is
"reasoning in a circle". [28]

If a sense of duty cannot provide an original motiva-

tion to return the money, what could provide such a motiva-
tion? Hume considers three alternatives: self-interest,
public interest, and the interest of the lender. Obviously
self-interest could not be the motivation, for it would not
generally be in our interest to return the money. Public
interest could not supply the motivation either. Hume cites
three specific and one general objection to this possibil-

ity. First, particular acts of justice do not necessarily

172
promote public interest. Second, public interest would
not
provide a motivation to secret acts of honesty, yet such
secret acts are nonetheless
virtuous. Third, in actual
fact, people rarely consider
public interest when they
just or honest actions. Such a motivation is "too
remote and too sublime to affect the generality of
mankind (p. 481). Hume's final and more general objection
IS that "there is no such passion in human minds, as the
love of mankind, merely as such, independent of personal
qualities, or services, or of relation to
ourself" (p. 481).
The only possibility left is the interest of the
lender or benevolence. Hume has two objections. First, if
the lender is an enemy, towards whom we
feel no benevolence,
there would be no motivation to return the money, yet
clearly people are motivated to do so even under such
circumstances. Second, it may not be in the lender's inter-
est to return the money. He may be "a profligate debauchee,
and wou'd rather receive harm than benefit from large
possessions" (p. 482).

Hume s conclusion is that it would seem "we have

naturally no real or universal motive for observing the laws

of equity, but the very equity and merit of that obser-

vance (p. 483) . But, as he has already shown, regard for

the virtue of an action cannot be an original motivation.

The only solution is to "allow, that the sense of justice

and injustice is not deriv'd from nature, but arises artifi-

173
Cially, tho' necessarily from education, and human conven-
tions (p. 483). It is only when considered within a system
of conventional rules and practices that a motivation for
just actions can be discovered. To see how the motivation
arises, it will be necessary to examine Hume's explanation
Of the origins of justice.
[29]

The origins of society cannot be

attributed to people's
recognition of its benefits, for people
would have no means
of discovering such benefits without
experience. But, even
without the recognition of its benefits, the formation of
society is ensured by the "natural appetite betwixt the
sexes". Once a rudimentary society is established, its
members will recognize the benefits that accrue: society
increases the power, ability and security of its members.
Experience will also make clear that certain "outward
cir-
cumstances" and man's "natural temper" hinder the preserva-

tion of society. The scarcity of goods and instability of

their possession combined with man's natural self-interest
and biased affections inevitably lead to conflicts. Man's
natural temper cannot be changed, but it can be redirected.

There is no passion ... capable of con-

trolling the interested affection, but
the very affection itself, by an altera-
tion of its direction. Now this altera-
tion must necessarily take place upon
the least reflection; since 'tis evi-
dent, that the passion is much better
satisfy'd by its restraint than by its
liberty. (p. 492)
. . .

174
Recognizing that their own interests and the interest of
their friends and loved ones are better satisfied within
society than without it, people
are led to check their
natural temper.

Given man's natural acquisitiveness,

biased affections
and the scarcity of goods, the
major impediment to maintain-
ing society will be the instability
of possessions. if
society is to be preserved this situation
must be remedied.
The remedy is supplied by artifice.

When men, from their early education in

society, have become sensible of the
infinite advantages that result from it
... and when they have observ'd that
the
principal disturbance in society arises
from those goods, which we call exter-
nal, and from their looseness and easy
transition from one person to another,
they must seek a remedy, by putting
these goods, as far as possible, on the
same footing with the fix'd and constant
advantages of the mind and body. (p. 489)

The remedy consists in establishing a general rule,

which Hume describes as "a convention enter'd into by all
members of society to bestow stability on the possession of

those external goods, and leave everyone in the peaceable

enjoyment of what he may acquire by his fortune and indus-

try" (p. 489). This convention for stabilizing possessions

creates property, which is "nothing but those goods, whose

constant possession is establish'd by the laws of soci-

175
ety”(p. 491). Justice consists, at least in
part, in abid-
ing by such laws. [30]

Hume stresses that the agreement

to abide by the rules
of justice IS not based on a
promise. "it is only a general
sense of common interest, which
inclines them to regulate
their conduct by certain rules"
(p. 490). Promises arise in
same manner as the rules for
stabilizing property. Both
are the product of a convention,
which "arises gradually,
and acquires force by slow
progression, and by our repeated
experiences of the inconveniences of
transgressing it"(p.
490) .

As noted above, there are no natural motivations to be

just. I may have a motivation to refrain from taking
another's possessions under certain circumstances — for in-
stance, when it would be dangerous to myself or when
I have
some particular affection for the other person.
But I have
no natural motive for restraining myself in all
circum-
stances. Within a conventional order of society such a

motive is supplied. The original motive for observing the

rules of justice is simply enlightened self-interest. I can
best satisfy my own interest within society; it is thus in

my interest to abide by the conventions developed for

preserving society. This is what Hume refers to as the
"natural obligation to justice" (p. 498). We ought to ob-
serve the rules, if we want to preserve society, and thus
foster our own best interests. The 'ought' here is purely

176
 . .

prudential

But, according to Hume, natural obligation is merely

the original motivation to
justice. Once society has grown
and conventions have become firmly established,
people are
no longer motivated by natural
obligation, or regard to
self-interest, but by moral obligation,
or regard to virtue.
Within a conventional order an act of
injustice will be seen
as “prejudicial to human society,
and pernicious to everyone
that approaches the person guilty
of lt”(p. 499). This
arouses our displeasure, and "as every
thing, which gives
uneasiness in human actions, upon the general
survey, is
call d Vice", injustice elicits our moral disapproval. it
is only within a conventional order that just
a character
will always appear useful or agreeable from an objective
viewpoint, and it is these qualities that give rise to
moral
approval

The general rule for stabilizing possessions is worked

out over time by our experience of its advantages and the

disadvantages of transgressing it. But the rule itself is
much too general to guide us in particular cases.

Tho' the establishment of the rule, con-

cerning the stability of possession, be
not only useful, but even absolutely
necessary to human society, it can never
serve to any purpose, while it remains
in such general terms. Some method must
be shown, by which we may distinguish
what particular goods are to be assign'd
to each particular person, while the

177
 rest of mankind are excluded
from
possession and enjoyment (p. 501 - thei]
502. )

We must determine some particular means for applying

the rule. Ideally, it would seem best if "every one were
possess'd of what is most suitable to him, and proper for
his use..."(p. 502). Thus, we might be tempted to
believe
that the best way to stabilize
possessions is according to a
principle of utility, assigning to
each person those goods
which would be most useful or advantageous either to the
person himself or to society. However agreeable such a
scheme may appear in theory, it is not acceptable in
practice.

Besides, that this relation of fitness

may be common to several at once, 'tis
liable to so many controversies, and men
are so partial and passionate in judging
of these controversies, that such a rule
wou'd be absolutely incompatible with
the peace of human society. (p. 502)

Following such a rule would introduce an endless source

of controversy and disagreement. Consider a simple example.

Is an apple orchard more useful or advantageous to an
expert
fruit grower or to an impoverished family? — To someone
disabled and unable to till the soil or to a vegetarian
whose food sources are more limited than others? A rule
requiring that such decisions be made for every case would

be a source of perpetual dispute, and would thus undermine

the original purpose for introducing a rule that would

178
stabilize possessions.

Rather than pursuing such

theoretical solutions to the
problem, Hume examines actual
practice. [31] He discovers
five rules by which people
actually assign property. These
rules are succinctly summed up
in the following account of
David Miller:

(1) Possession: A person shall

have the
right to whatever objects he
currently
holds in his possession.

(2) Occupation: A person shall have a

right to whatever objects he possesses
first, i.e. prior to other persons.

(3) Prescription: A person shall have

a
right to whatever objects he has held
over an extensive period of time.

(4) Accession: A person shall have a

right towhatever is 'intimately' con-
nected with objects he already owns
(e.g. the fruits of his trees, the off-
spring of his cattle) .

(5) Succession: A person shall have a

right to objects owned by his close
relatives upon their death. [32]

The application of the first rule, present possession,

is limited to the initial formation of society. Once soci-

ety is established the observance of it would not only cease

to stabilize possessions, it would actively promote destabi-

lization.

These five rules, though more determinate than the rule

that property must be stable, are still not determinate

179
 enough to settle all
controversies. Two types of problems
are Ukely to arise.
First, there will be questions
such as
"What should be counted as
first possession?" and "How
long
must an object be possessed
before it becomes rightful
property?" Second, there is the possibility that
the rules
will conflict. Both problems are resolved by
an even more
determinate set of general rules—
municiple laws.
Hume claims that the origin of
the rules for assigning
property is not reason, but the imagination. The imagina-
tion has "natural propensity to join relations,
a
especially
resembling ones..."(p. 509). We ascribe property relations
according to the "natural union betwixt the ideas of a
person and that of an ob j ect .
. . " { p . 510). This natural
union is the result of our observation of a natural rela-
tion, primarily contiguity and cause and
effect. Accession,
for instance, is based on both the contiguity between person
and object and cause and effect between objects.

If the rules for assigning property are the product

of
the imagination, what is their claim to legitimate authori-
ty? They are not based on reason, but only on "the more
frivolous properties of our thought and concept ion" (p . 504).
Thus, they appear to be entirely arbitrary. Hume's reply is
that reason cannot supply any workable principles for as-
signing property. The type of principles supplied by reason

are not simply impractical; they are self-defeating. They

reintroduce the sort of destabilizing influences that the

180
rule for stabilizing property
is designed to eliminate.
The imagination can and
does supply workable princi-
ples. This, according to Hume, is
a simple matter of
fact.
His five rules are taken
from actual practice. Hume ex-
plains this fact by appealing
to "known properties of
human
nature"— our natural propensity to
join relations. Because
the rules are the product of a
natural propensity, they will
Immediately occur to everyone as the
"most natural expedi-
ent and people will "easily acquiese
in this expedient" and
"naturally agree in preferring lt"(p.
503-504). if we re-
ject these naturally formed rules because
they are not the
product of reason, we are left with no
way of stabilizing
possessions and this undermines our effort
to maintain
society.

In discussing the influencing motives

of the will, Hume
claims that we are unreasonable when "in exerting any
passion in action, we chuse means insufficient for the
design’d end..."(p. 416). in his discussion of the above
rules, he argues that reason is incapable of providing
principles that achieve our desired end — stabilizing posses-
sions. The paradoxical conclusion is that it would be
unreasonable to employ our reason. To achieve our end we
must grant authority to custom.

There are a number of striking parallels between Hume's

argument here and his Book I argument concerning the role of

181
custom in judgment . [33) Both arguments are concerned
with
showing the limits of reason. I m
Hume argues thatBook f

reason does not and cannot

support causal inferences. Caus-
al Inference is based on the
imagination. er custom. Reason
loses its title to grant or
deny authority to custom because
reason, when consistently pursued,
is self-destructive. if
we allow that only judgments
based on reason have legitimate
authority, then we must conclude
that no judgments have
legitimate authority. But reason gains its title by its
claim to lead to truth. if following reason would undermine
all judgments, then it clearly thwarts its own aim; it
cannot lead to true judgment if it undermines all judgment.
Similarly, reason does not and cannot provide princi-
ples for property distribution. These rules are based on
the imagination, or custom in the form of convention.
Here
too reason loses its title to grant or deny authority to
these conventions because rational principles are self-

defeating. Attempts to assign property according to ratio-

nal principles undermines the purpose of the rules,
which is
to maintain "peace and order" in society.

In both cases the limits of reason are revealed by its

tendency to undermine its own end. This tendency can be

arrested only by granting authority to custom. If we were

entirely consistent in following reason and rejecting cus-

tom, we would undermine all judgment and belief. Likewise,
if we were to follow only rational principles in property

182
distribution and reject convention
or custom-derived rules,
we would undermine the social
order. To achieve the aim of
reason we must limit reason and
acknowledge custom.
Another important parallel between Hume's account of
the general rules of judgment and the
general rules of
justice IS that in both cases general rules can be seen as
natural propensities correcting natural propensities. m
his discussion of judgments, Hume notes that the unphilo-
sophical probabilities are the result of certain natural
propensities of the imagination. We correct judgments
formed according to unphi losophical
probabilities by follow-
ing general rules. But these general rules are the product
of the same propensities of the imagination as the
unphilo-
sophical probabilities. Thus we correct our judgments by a
"new direction of the very same principle"
(p. 150 ).
There are also certain natural propensities of the
passions. "in the original frame of our mind, our strongest

attention is confin'd to ourselves; our next is extended to

our relations and acquaintances; and 'tis only the weakest

which reaches to strangers and indifferent persons" (p. 488 ).
Our self-interest and biased affection lead us astray in our

behavior just as our natural propensities of the imagination

lead us astray in our judgment. The self-interested passion

can only be corrected by redirecting the same passion.

'Tis certain, that no affection of the

183
 "

human mind has both sufficient force

to counter-ballanc4
the of gam....
liL There is no pas-
therefore, capable of controlling
the interested affection,
but the very
alteration of
Its direction. (p. 492)
i

This alteration of direction is achieved by general

rules. -Tis by establishing the rule for the stability of
possession, that this passion restrains itself ..." (p. 492-
93) .

Although Hume claims that the

redirecting of self-
interest must necessarily take place upon the
least reflec-
tion” (p. 492) and that "nature provides a remedy in the
judgment or understanding, for what is irregular and incom-
modious in the affections" (p. 484), it is clear that he does
not consider the formation of the general rules of
justice
as a conscious reflective process. The rules are the result
of "a progress of the sentiments" that is "natural
and even
necessary (p. 500). Given time and experience, the passion
of self-interest is self-correcting. Thus the rule that
property must remain stable "arises gradually, and acquires

force by a slow progression, and our repeated experience of

the inconveniences of transgressing it"(p. 490).

The general rules of judgment arise in a similar

manner. we do not reflect on the history of our past
judgments, weighing successes and failures and consciously
develop rules to avoid failures. The modification of belief

184
 . —

and correction of certain

natural propensities is the
natu-
ral effect of certain
occurrences in our past experience
false judgments. General rules arise gradually
and unre-
flectively as we experience the "inconveniences” of false
judgments

185
 NOTES

[1]Hume points out that, while it follnwc =

speaxing,
speakinq
® cannot, philosophically
be said to have such a power,
"'tis it
operate n^r^bv°"
opera^ upon them by means of the idea and
power, independent of its actual suDoositinn of
exercise" (p. 311-12).

pain [4]
are pleasure and
^ themselves passions.
Pleasure and pain are
Li'ain/i
[5] """ secondary impressions or
imp?esslonnrre??ection!''°""
[6]
[3] David Hume, "Of the Standard of Taste,"
Lenz ed. John W.
(Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merr i 1 1 1965), p. 6.
,

Ibid., p. 7.

Ibid.

What Hume here calls the "sentiment of beauty"

is
the calm passion called the "sense of beauty" in the
Treatise.

[7] "Standard of Taste", p. 11.

[8] Ibid., p. 9. The scope of this passage clearly in-

cludes more than aesthetic judgments. In the Treatise, Hume
maizes the same point about both the passions and
the moral
sentiments. Discussing the passions, Hume claims:

"We may ... maJce greater question,

it a
whether the causes
that produce the
passions, be as natural as the object,
to which it is directed, and whether all
the vast variety proceeds from caprice
or from the constitution of the mind.
This doubt we shall soon remove, if we
cast our eye upon human nature, and
consider that in all nations and all
ages, the same objects still give rise
to pride and humility. .." (pp. 280-81).

Discussing moral sentiments, Hume claims:

186
 .

"When you pronounce any action or

char-
vicious, you mean nothing,
but that from the constitution
of your
have a feeling or sentiment
f r om the contemplation
1
^
of

distinction between subjective

evaluLVi
evaluation as expression of individual preference and
a
objective evaluation baaed on certain objective
quaUt?es in
theory; it serves as a
basis claim that a moral judgment must be made
„ from
view". Hume's awareness of the impor-
correct use of evaluative language is evident
tne following passage from the Treatise; in

"In general, all sentiments of praise or

blame are variable, according to our
situation of nearness or remoteness,
with regard to the person blam'd or
prais'd, and according to the present
disposition of our mind. But these
variations we regard not in our general
decisions, but still apply the terms
expressive our liking or dislike, in the
same manner, as if we remain'd in one
point of view. Experience soon teaches
us this method of correcting our senti-
ments, or at least, of correcting our
language, where the sentiments are more
[10] stubborn
and inalterable.... Such cor-
[11] rections are common with regard to all
the senses; and indeed twere impossible
'

we cou'd ever make use of language, or

communicate our sentiments to one
another, did we not correct the momen-
tary appearances of things, and overlook
our present situation" (p. 582).
[12]
Ibid. , pp. 8-9

Ibid., p. 13. Hume is here making essentially the

same point made in a previously quoted passage from the
Treatise (pp. 293-94) A person "full-grown and of the same
.

nature as ourselves" but totally inexperienced would not

know the proper degree of passion he "ought to assign" to
any object. It is only by custom and experience that we
learn to "settle the just value of every thing".

Ibid., p. 14. The same view is expressed

repeatedly in the Treatise. Cf. pp. 291,303,323,372,389,

187
390,593.

[13] Ibid., p. 15 . For similar passages regarding

svaluativ© viewpoint the
see Treatise p. 472 and pp.
602-603. ,

[14] Ibid., p. 16.

[15] Ibid.

[16] Ibid., p. 7.

and
Hume s Treatise,” Review of Metaphysics Moral Sentiments
in Hume'l
30 (1976) p. 60. ,

[18] Ibid., p. 61.

[19] Ibid., p. 62.

[20] Ibid.

[21] Ibid., p. 63.

[22] Ibid.

[23] This failing is the source of a fundamental

problem in Hearn's main thesis. Hearn tries to argue that
Hume's moral sentiments are attitudes as opposed to
emotions. Hearn characterizes an attitude as "highly
rational, in the sense that it presupposes a certain
conception of an object. One can only have attitudes where
certain beliefs concerning the objects ... are involved"
(p.
63). Emotions, on the other hand, "can be experienced in
the context of few or no beliefs" (p. 63). Attitudes are
within our control", whereas "emotions are relatively
beyond our control" (p. 68). Even a cursory examination of
Hume's view of the relationship between passions and judg-
ment reveals that this sort of distinction between emotions
and attitudes would be unacceptable to Hume. Even the
direct violent passions such as anger or fear depend on a
certain conception of objects and require a context of
belief. Such 'emotions' are within our control to the ex-
tent that our belief is within our control. One might argue
that, on Hume's view, belief is not within our control, but
this will then present an equal problem for Hearn's account
of an attitude.

[24] Hearn, p. 62.

[25] Pall S. Ardal, ^ssion and Value in Hume's

Treatise (Edinburgh: Edinburgh Univ. Press, 1966), p. 94.

188
 [26] Hearn, p. 63.

[27] Ibid.

[28] Although he argues that a

regard for the virtue of
an action cannot be the original
motive
Hume acknowledges that a sense of duty for that action,
can become a motive:

ask.
I

^
What reason or motive have I to
money ? it will, peThi^sT b^
that my regard to justice, and
abhorance of villainy and knavery, are
sufficient reasons ... if i have the
least grain of honesty, or sense of duty
and obligation. And this answer, no
doubt, is just and satisfactory to man
in his civilized state, and when train'd
up according to a certain discipline and
education. But in his rude and more
natural condition, if you are pleas'd to
call such a condition natural, this an-
swer wou'd be rejected as perfectly un-
intelligible" (p. 479-480).

[29] Presumably, in explaining the origins of justice,

Hume means to offer a causal hypothesis. He is arguing from
—
effects our actual rules and practices to causes.

[30] Hume s notion of justice clearly encompasses much

more than the mere observance of property rights. Justice,
according to Hume, is the observance of the conventional
rules and practices for the preservation of society. This
explains why he includes sections on allegiance to govern-
ment, the laws of nations, and even chastity and modesty in
his discussion of justice and injustice.

[31] In the second Enquiry, Hume examines and

criticizes two other theoretical solutions: distribution
according to individual merit and equal distribution. He
argues that both solutions are self-defeating. His
objection to individual merit is the same as his objection
to utility:

"So great the uncertainty of merit,

is
both fromits natural obscurity, and
from the self-conceit of each individ-
ual, that no determinate rule of conduct
would ever result from it; and the total
dissolution of society must be the imme-

189
 .

Enquir y Concerninq
tl^ Principles
^
Morals ed. L.A. Selby-
igge, third edition, reyised
with notes
pLss!'?975?,‘^p“? 53.'°^^°‘^‘^= Clarendon

h"r‘evin“‘^e°e; prTcr\«^r '.-a^^ — Pl--ble

Historians, and even common sense, may

inform us, that however specious
these
Ideas of perfect equality may seem,
they
are really, at bottom, impracticable;
and were they not so, would be
extremely
pernicious to human society. Render
possessions ever so equal, men's differ-
ent degrees of art, care, and industry
will immediately break that equality.
you check these virtues, you re-
duce society to the most extreme indi-
gence; and instead of preventing want
and beggary in a few, render it unavoid-
able to the whole community. The most
rigorous inquisition too is requisite to
watch every inequality ... and the most
severe jurisdiction, to punish and re-
dress it .... So much authority must
soon degenerate into tyranny and be ex-
erted with great par t ia 1 i t ies ." p
^.
.
(

194)

Miller, Philosophy and Ideology in Hume's

Political Thought (Oxford; Clarendon Press, 1981), p. 'Sl~.

[33] Hume's Book I argument is discussed in Chapter III.

190
 s

CHAPTER VI
CONCLUSION

In the preceding chapters I have tried to present a

thorough account of the role of
general rules in Hu.e •

philosophy as presented in the

Treatise This task has .

often required examining certain of Hume's doctrines and

arguments in great detail. Such detailed analysis was nec-
essary, not
only for understanding how general
rules func-
tion, but, also, for appreciating
their Importance to major
areas of Hume's philosophy. As necessary as a detailed
analysis may be, it is, I think, most profitable when
combined with a more general view. Thus, in this chapter, I

shall review the major conclusions of the

previous chapters
in light of their relevance to certain general features of
Hume's thought.

One important aspect of Hume's philosophy is

his natu-
ralism, and the considerations in Chapters I and ll reveal
the crucial role of general rules in this regard.
Inasmuch
as there are substantial differences among commentators
concerning the nature of Hume's naturalism, it is important
to be clear on my use of the term. I use "naturalism" in a
loose but limited sense meant to include two features of
Hume s thought: (1) his expressed intention of employing
"experimental reasoning" in his examination of human

191
•nature, and (2) his view that all mental phenomena can be
explained in terms of
psychophysiological principles.
Hume explains his use of
experimental method in the
introduction to the Treatise:

It seems to me evident, that the

mind being equally unknown to
essence
us with
bodies, it must be
equally impossible to form any
Its powers and qualities
notion of
otherwise than
from careful and exact experiments,
and
the observation of those particular
ef-
fects, which result from its
different
circumstances and situations. And tho'
we must endeavor to render all
our
principles as universal as possible, by
tracing up our experiments to the ut-
most, and explaining all effects from
the simplest and fewest causes, 'tis
certain we cannot go beyond experience?
and any hypothesis, that pretends to
discover the ultimate original qualities
of human nature, ought at first to be
rejected as presumptuous and chimerical,
(p. xvii)

What we know of the nature of the understanding

we know from
observation and experience" alone, and any hypothesis that

appeals to mysterious or supernatural agencies and powers

or
to refin d and spiritual" faculties must be rejected as
"presumptuous and chimerical".

The second element of Hume's naturalism is closely

^®l^ted to the first. As I pointed out in Chapter I, in

eliminating what he considered the suspect faculty of pure

intellect, Hume was free to base all the workings of the

understanding on purely natural physical processes. Al-

192
 .

though the physiological

aspects of the workings of the
mind
clearly of little Interest
to Hume, his frequent
references and allusions to
them indicate his concern that
his psychological principles
be fully explicable at the
physiological level. Hume's ideal, although, perhaps,
not
always realised, was to eliminate
as much mystery as possi-
ble from the workings of the
understanding. if, after
rendering all our principles as
universal as possible by
"tracing up our experiments to the
utmost”, we can find "no
reason for our most general and most
refined principles,
besides our experience of their reality",
we must not be
tempted to offer "chimerical" explanations.
Instead we must
sit down contented” and be "satisfied
with our Ignorance",
consoling ourselves with the recognition that "this
impossi-
bility of explaining ultimate principles is a defect com-
mon to... all the sciences ..." (p. xviii)
Although the Malebranchian theory of natural judgments
provided Hume with the means of eliminating what he consid-

ered chimerical explanations of the operations of the under-

standing, it needed supplementing if it was to account for

the observable fact that we are able to regulate and correct

our natural judgments and distinguish between good and bad

judgments. Malebranche accounted for these facts by appeal
to the faculty of pure intellect, which does not depend on

any psychophysiological processes. This sort of appeal was

193
not possible within Hume's naturalistic framework, Hume
needed an account of the correction of natural judgments
that was fully explicable within the theory
of natural
judgments. He achieved this by developing his theory of
general rules.

General rules are the natural result

of our experience
of successes and failures in past
judgments. Their forma-
tion IS explained by exactly the
same principles used to
explain all our judgments customs and —
experience. By em-
ploying them we learn to distinguish the
"extensive and
constant" principles of the imagination form
the "capricious
and uncertain" principles, and to guide our judgments ac-
cording to the former rather than the latter.

General rules also play a major role in Hume's concep-

tion of reason and rational method. Although he generally
confined himself to a particularly narrow usage of the term
"reason" ( viz . , "the discovery of truth and falsehood"), a

legitimate question to ask is whether his views display

^^ything akin to a broader and, what we would consider, more
natural conception of reason. The answer is clearly, yes.

The extensive and constant principles of the imagination are

not based on reason in the narrow sense, because we cannot

show that such principles are likely to result in true

judgments. Yet, throughout the Treatise , Hume insists that

wise and judicious reasoners adhere to these principles,

while foolish and vulgar reasoners do not. "Wise men" guide

194
their judgments by properly
formed general rules; thus men
of "solid sense and long
experience" proportion their
beliefs to the evidence. The vulgar are guided by
irregular
principles, which "are observ'd only to take place in weak
minds ” (p. 225) .

In Chapters in and iv, i explained how Hume's notion

of reasonableness is based on his conception of warranted
judgment. A judgment is warranted when it is formed accord-
ing to scientific method— proport ioning beliefs to the evi-
dence. we proportion our beliefs to the
evidence by employ-
ing general rules. Thus, general rules embody the standards
of rational judgment. These standards are simply the prin-
ciples operative in the extensive and constant
operations of
the understanding. Although Hume acknowledged that we can-
not show that these principles will lead to true
judgments,
he did not conclude that we have no reasonable grounds for
preferring them. According to Hume, we can keep our
(1)

judgments mutually consistent, keep our principles

(2) of
reasoning mutually consistent, and (3) attain the stability
of judgment necessary for coherent experience only by form-
ing judgments according to the extensive and constant prin-

ciples .

Although Hume believed that we have good grounds for

preferring the scientific method of proportioning beliefs to

the evidence to the irregular principles of "mere imagina-

195
tion”, he did not place
unlimited confidence in the
former,
nor did he entirely reject
the latter. if our inability to
show that our fundamental
principles of reasoning are likely
to result in true judgments
is not enough to curb any
pretentions of our understanding,
then the consideration
that it is only a "trivial
propensity of the fancy" that
prevents the fundamental principles of
our thought from
undermining all belief should lead us to "always preserve
our scepticism".

In Chapters IV and v, discussed

l another important
area of Hume's philosophy influenced by general rules — his
theory of passions and sentiments. Our moral and aesthetic
sentiments cannot be true or false; thus, they cannot be
considered the product of reason in what Hume understood
as
the "strict and philosophical sense" (p. 459).
But our
passions and sentiments depend on our judgments about
objects and can be considered reasonable insofar as they
arise from warranted judgments. This is another illustra-
tion of Hume's broad conception of reasonableness. We
cannot show that our matter of fact judgments about objects

are likely to be true. Yet, as long as they are warranted

by the evidence, Hume considered both the judgments
themselves and the sentiments that arise from them reason-

able .

In addition to their role in regulating our passions

and sentiments by guiding our judgments about objects.

196
general rules are essential to Hume's theory of value.
Moral and aesthetic judgments
depend on determining the
"just value" of objects.
Determining the just value of
objects requires more than the
ability to accurately distin-
guish their qualities and calculate
their usual effects; it
requires developing "general inalterable
standards: that are
not influenced by "spite or favour".
These standards are
simply general rules, which we develop by learning to
disregard those circumstances that are "peculiar to our-
selves" and fixing on "some steady and general point of
View". By them we distinguish objective value judgments
from subjective expressions of personal taste. it is his
theory of general rules that allows Hume to claim that we
can make genuine value judgments even when we have no
corresponding sentiments, thus preventing his moral theory
from degenerating into any sort of pure subjectivism.

Finally, in Chapter V, I have shown that general rules

have a substantial role in Hume's political theory. What
Hume terms the "laws of nature" are simply general rules of

justice developed according to our experience. Our natural

propensities toward self-interested behavior and our biased

affections combined with the scarcity of goods and instabil-

ity of possessions are destabilizing influences on society.

We recognize from experience that we are best able to
satisfy our interests and the interests of those we love

197
 society. This leads us to form general rules that
redirect our propensities to better
realise these interests.
Once these rules are established
within a conventional order
and the benefits of adhering
to them generally recognized,
they elicit moral approval.
Transgressions of the rules
then become vice, adherence to the
rules, virtue.
I have tried to show that general
rules play a funda-
mental role in Hume's philosophy. They are essential to his
naturalism, his views on the nature of
reason, his skepti-
cism, and his moral, aesthetic and
political theories. it
was with good cause that Hume spoke
of the "mighty influ-
ence" of general rules on the actions and
understanding.

198
 s ,

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^

NORTON, David Fate

Davi^ Hume: Common - Sense Moralist Sceptical Metaphysi-
,
cian. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982.
NORTON, David Fate, CAPALDI, Nicholas, and ROBISON, Wade
(eds.)
McHi 1 1 Hume Studies . San Diego: Austin Hill Press,

PASSMORE, John
"David Hume: His Pyrrhonism and his Critique of Pyrrho-
nism." In Hume Edited by V.C. Chappell.
.
New York:
Doubleday, 1966.

POPKIN, Richard H.
Knowledge and Perception . London: Oxford University
Press, 1950.

SMITH, H.A.
The Philosophy of David Hume: A Critical Study of its
Origins and Central Doctrines New York: MacmUlanT
.

1941; reprinted 1964.

STROUD, Barry
Hume Boston: Routledge
. & Kegan Paul, 1977.
WILBANKS, Jan
Hume's Theory of Imagination. The Hague: Niihoff,
1968 .

WILSON, Fred
"Hume's Sceptical Argument Against Reason." Hume Stud -
ies 9 (November, 1983): 90-129.

201
 .

appendix

Hume's argument in the section "Of scepticism with

regard to reason" has drawn
almost universal criticism from
Hume commentators. 1 Some typical comments on the
[ ]
argument
include self-refuting", "question-begging",
and "sophisti-
cal [2]
. An examination of the criticisms
reveals an almost
equally universal tendency to misinterpret
Hume's argument.
I cannot possibly discuss every criticism
here. Instead l
shall concentrate on some of the
major criticisms and
attempt to show that they are not
particularly damaging to
Hume's argument.

For convenience I will divide these criticisms into

three categories. The first are focused on the initial
stage of Hume's argument, where he claims that
reflection on
past errors in judgments reduces our conviction in our
present judgments. The second are focused on the next stage
of Hume's argument, where he argues that the unreliability
of our judgments infects our judgments about our judgments,
thereby adding further doubt to our initial belief. Final-
ly, the third group of criticisms accuse Hume of begging the

question by ignoring the possibility that some judgments are

intuitively certain and thus not subject to any initial

doubt

The first type of criticism is made by Robert Fogelin:

202
 certain or uncertain we
are
7
calculate proba-
^ proposition has a certain
(tautologically) is
the probability it has.
For example, in
<^3se we may be uncertain
whether to assign the
probability 1 or 0
to a mathematical proposition,
does not affect the first-level yet this
assign-
value
intermediate
. [3]

Hume would certainly agree that,

if a proposition has a
certain probability, then that is the probability it has.
But, presumably, the probability a proposition has is not
necessarily the probability we happen
to assign it. We do
sometimes make mistakes in our probability
assignments and
Hume claims that, given this fact, we
should not be fully
confident in the judgments we make about a proposition's
probability. More generally, the problem with this criti-
cism IS that it does not address the point Hume
is trying to
make. To see this it is important to keep in mind
Hume's
conception of judgment. A judgment is an "act of mind"
whereby we form a conception with a particular degree of
belief. "By probability [I mean] that evidence, [4] which is
still attended with uncertainty" (p. 124). Hume also distin-
guishes two senses of 'probability': "Probability is of two
kinds, either when the object is really in itself uncertain,

and to be determin'd by chance, or when, tho' the object be

already certain, yet 'tis uncertain to our judgment ..." (p.

444) .

203
 claiming that "all knowledge
degenerates into proba-
bility Hume IS not claiming that
,
mathematical propositions
become merely probable. He is claiming that the felt
con-
viction of our mathematical
judgments is reduced to some
lesser degree of belief.
The uncertainty here is in our
:udgment, not in the object. "m all demonstrative sciences
the rules are certain and
infallible; but when we apply
them, our fallible and uncertain
faculties are very apt to
depart from them, and fall into error"(p.
180). in short,
Hume's concern is with epistemic probability. Given the
fact that we make errors in our judgments, what degree of
conviction should we have in our judgments? To note that
"if a proposition has a certain probability, that (tauto-
logically) is the probability it has” is totally irrelevant.

The second type of criticism is represented by Pri-

chard :

If we judge that the faculty by which

we, considering the nature of two and
two, judge it to be four is infallible
only to the extent of three-quarters, we
inevitably are judging as a matter of
certainty that two and two is probably
four to the extent of three-quarters and
we cannot then take further account of
the fallibility of our faculties, for we
have already taken full account of
it. [5]

First of all, this is a misuse of the terms 'fallible'

and 'infallible'. A faculty cannot be infallible (incapable
of making errors) to the extent of three-quarters. If it is

204
 capable o-f making errors at all it is, by definition,
fallible. second, Hume would not claio, that two and two
equalling four is only probable.
He would clai. that what
IS only probable is that, when we make a methematical
judgment that we believe to be
correct, our judgment actual-
ly is correct. Finally, when we judge that
it is only
probable that we correctly judge that two
and two equals
four, we are inevitably judging this as a "matter of
certainty". But Hume's whole point is to question the
legitimacy of taking this judgment as
certain.
Suppose we accept as fact that all
judgments, with the
e_xception of one, are uncertain. We then have no real
problem. We simply take account of this fact
when making
judgments by modifying our degree of belief
or conviction.
According to Hume, those who are considered
to have good
judgment normally operate on the basis of just such a
supposition. But, he asks, what possible justification can
we have for making the above exception: If we accept the
view that the general reliability of our judgments is an
important factor to consider in determining a proper degree
of conviction, then we must make some sort of evaluation of
our judging ability. Yet there appears to be no non-
arbitrary way to exclude the judgment involved in this
evaluation from the verdict of the evaluation. Passmore
correctly characterized this aspect of the problem as fol-

205
 :

lows

This analysis demands that

we stop at a
certain point (the examination
of our
faculties) in the estimation
of relia-
provide
xplanation why, if we must proceed no
that point, we should not for to
the same reasons continue to
precisely
a further
point, and then again to a further
one,
with no possibility of ever reaching
a
point at which we can properly rest.
[6]

The third type of criticism accuses

Hume of begging the
question by failing to consider the
possibility of intui-
tively certain judgments. The criticism is directed at the
following passage:

Tis easily possible, by gradually

reducing the numbers, to reduce the
longest series of addition to the most
simple question, which can be form'd, to
an addition of two single numbers; and
upon this supposition we shall find it
impracticable to shew the precise limits
of knowledge and of probability, or dis-
cover that precise number, at which one
ends and the other begins. But know-
ledge and probability are of such con-
trary and disagreeing natures, that they
cannot well run insensibly into each
other, and that because they will not
divide, but must be either entirely pre-
sent, or entirely absent. Besides, if
any single addition were certain, every
one wou d be so, and consequently the
'

whole or total sum; unless the whole can

be different from its parts. (p. 181)

Fogelin's response is typical of the third type of criti-

cism:

206
 nat a long argument assumes
addition can yield onlv
probablltiy. Then, by a slippery slope
direct ionsf, HuL
addition however simple. The reply, of
course, IS that this ignores
the possi-
ity that our grasp of a simple
position concerning numbers" may "pro-
not in-
volve calculation at all but,
instead,
an immediate insight.
this way, the
fallibility that infects our calcula-
m
tions (and demonstrations) need
touch our intuitive understanding not
.[ 7]

I have already argued that Hume does not

assume that
long addition can yield only probability
in the sense
Fogelin ascribes to him. There is no uncertainty (probabil-
ity, in Humels sense) in the object; the uncertainty is in
the judgment. So, if an addition has a certain sum, then
that is necessarily the sum it has.
But, of course, the sum
we judge it to have is not necessarily
the sum it has. But
Fogelin' s point can be made without the supposition that
Hume thought mathematical propositions only probable. The
basic criticism is that Hume ignores the possibility
of
intuitively certain judgments.

Consider the form of Hume's argument. If each simple

addition were certain, then the whole would be certain. The
whole is not certain; therefore, it is not true that each
simple addition is certain. As one critic has pointed out,

this argument cuts both ways:

If we were to accept a premiss of one of

his arguments, namely, that any sin -

207
 .

t a 1
^were certain, every one
consequently the v;^le
sum we should, ir^cTTw
choice on the evidence
h = n;^ but to
at hand affirm the antecedent and
conclude that he is, despite
himself,
providing an argument for the
infalli-
least some total sums as
opposed to the fallibility of
immediate
inference per se, as he had intended.
[8]

That we sometimes err in long

shows addition simply
that sometimes the whole is not
certain and, thus, sometimes
simple additions are not certain. But this does not elimi-
nate the possibility that sometimes
simple additions are
Intuitively certain and that the long additions
composed of
such intuitively certain simple additions
are likewise cer-
tain

The case can be made in a more straightforward

way by
noting that, although we sometimes make mistakes in simple
additions, this does not warrant the conclusion that
no
simple addition is certain. The defender of intuitive cer-
tainty can claim that such errors merely show that in some
instances we do not judge with intuitive certainty. Haste
or inattention can lead us to judge that 1 + 1 = 3, but this
does not mean that in more attentive moments we cannot
grasp with intuitive certainty that 1+1=2. If, as defenders

of intuition claim, this is the actual situation, then it is

false that all knowledge "degenerates into probability".

Hume's critics are correct in accusing him of failing

to address this possibility. But the assumption that the

208
proper criterion for establishing he reliability of
judg-
ments is experience is in keeping
with Hume's basic princi-
ple; thus this failing can
be easily remedied. There is no
necessary connection between feelings
of intuitive certainty
and correct judgments. Not only is there no necessary
connection, but experience proves
that there is not even a
constant conjunction'. People have held (and continue to
hold) all manner of false and even
absurd judgments to be
intuitively certain. Thus, the feeling of intuitive cer-
tainty is no guarantee of truth. The extent to which it is
an indication of truth is determined
entirely by experience.
It might well be that judgments in which we feel an
intuitive certainty are highly reliable
(usually true), in
which case we are warranted in being highly
confident about
them. But this confidence is based on experienced
reliabil-
ity, not on any assumption about the self-certifying
nature
of intuition.

Whatever decision one makes about the ultimate merits

of Hume's argument, this discussion of the criticisms re-

veals an important point. The aim of the argument is not,
as the critics seem to assume, to question or eliminate the

distinction between knowledge and probability (however one

characterizes this distinction). Hume's aim is to show the
limitations of rational method. Although we can show that
proportioning beliefs to the evidence is more rational than

209
 .

other methods of forming beliefs, we cannot, Hume argues,

adopt it as
perfectly general principle of
a
reason. What
we consider rational methodology
at one level of judgment
cannot be extended to all levels
of judgment without under-
mining all belief and conviction.
The reasonableness of
scientific method depends on limiting
its scope of appllca-
t ion

210
 :

NOTES

Wilson'i a''rtlcle’'"Htme'rsce..i^ criticisms is Fred

^dies 9, NO. 2 (November
1^
hrstoLVl'’Lsfir;?s\ncoLTt".‘
Passmore indicates that Hume's
—argument is self-
refuting in Hume s Intentions
'
p. 137; Robert Imlay calls it
,
question-begging in his article "Hume's
'Of Scepticism wi fh
^ Contrasting Themes," Hume
Stud^e^s No^^2^/N 1981): 124; MacNabb refers tTTt
H^ "snn hl;^ gj^^^y^lQPedia of Philosophy article
Hume , ed. P. Vi
Edwards (New York: Macmfri alT 1967) 4 :84.
1
,

[3]
[6] Fogelin, p. 18.

[4] One should note that, in Hume's usage

often refers to the evidence ojf something, "evidence"
i.e., how evident
it is, not to the evidence for
something, i.e., what
provides proof or support for it.

[5] H.A. Prichard, "Hume" in Knowledge and

(London
Perception
Oxford Univ. Press, 1950) ~p. 195.
,

Passmore, pp. 135-36 Passmore is not as acute in

.

explaining the point of Hume's argument: "The real outcome

of Hume's argument is that 'antecedent' scepticism
is illog-
ical. The 'reliability of our faculties' cannot be the test
of a proposition's probabi lity" (p. 136). As I have repeat-
edly emphasized, Hume is not assessing the probability
of
propositions, where this is understood as some property that
such 'objects' possess. Furthermore, assuming that Hume's
argument is supposed to show that 'antecedent scepticism' is
illogical makes complete nonsense out of the entire section.
Hume claims that reason can discover no error in the
argument and it is this claim that serves as a basis for his
skepticism about reason at the end of the section.

[7] Fogelin, p. 15.

[8] Imlay, p. 124.

211