ABSTRACT In this paper, we will highlight the correspondences between the Socially Engaged Buddhism movement, especially as defined in the practice of the late Thich Nhat Hanh, and the core principles of humanity, impartiality, neutrality and independence originally adopted by the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement. These principles also underpin the neutral, impartial and independent approach to humanitarian action, used by agencies working under the auspices of the United Nations’ Inter-Agency Standing Committee and Office for the Coordination of (...) Humanitarian Affairs, along with those who have signed the Code of Conduct for the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement and Non-Governmental Organizations in Disaster Relief. We hope this paper is a modest but useful contribution to create better understanding and to generate dialogue among different stakeholders in the humanitarian field, particularly in the context of armed conflict. (shrink)

This paper presents a roadmap of Finnish companies adopting and managing corporate social responsibility (CSR). It discusses the companies' views on CSR and highlights the practices that Finnish companies have adopted or are currently adopting. It also presents a framework that outlines the CSR processes and management prospects. Results showed that Finnish companies are progressively managing CSR. This newly revived thinking about social responsibility is viewed as an issue traced back from Finland's history of industrial development. There is no general (...) definition of CSR; however, various concepts are connoted into it. Driven by several factors, CSR is developing gradually as indicated by the positive responses and initiatives of the companies. CSR management and practices towards employees, suppliers, community and customers are well defined locally based generally on established socially responsible behavior which could be articulated by laws and regulations, corporate values and business ethics. However, managing CSR with a global scope, problems such as; lack of information and structured management system, different views and interpretations, supply chain complexities, overlap with environmental issues, etc. often lead some companies to manage CSR haphazardly. Views and management of CSR are also influenced by some distinct Finnish cultural attributes. An initial conceptual framework for CSR is drawn reflecting the current practices and prospects for management strategies. Such framework can be used in organizing and streamlining CSR elements for effective management approaches and measuring of performance. It could be expected that in due time, the efforts of the companies will become more evident, organized and systematically managed. (shrink)

Alain Badiou’s reception in the English-speaking world has centred on his project of a “mathematical ontology” undertaken in Being and Event. Its reception has raised serious concerns about how mathematics could be relevant to concrete situations. Caution must be taken in applying mathematics to concrete situationsand, without making explicit the equivocal senses of “consistency” as it operates in Badiou’s thought, this caution cannot be precisely applied. By examining Being and Event as well as looking backwards at his first philosophical work, (...) The Concept of Model, some key distinctions on the meaning of “consistency” will be clarified. (shrink)

Alain Badiou’s reception in the English-speaking world has centred on his project of a “mathematical ontology” undertaken in Being and Event. Its reception has raised serious concerns about how mathematics could be relevant to concrete situations. Caution must be taken in applying mathematics to concrete situationsand, without making explicit the equivocal senses of “consistency” as it operates in Badiou’s thought, this caution cannot be precisely applied. By examining Being and Event as well as looking backwards at his first philosophical work, (...) The Concept of Model, some key distinctions on the meaning of “consistency” will be clarified. (shrink)

This paper focuses on Leibniz’s conception of modality and its application to the issue of natural laws. The core of Leibniz’s investigation of the modality of natural laws lays in the distinction between necessary, geometrical laws on the one hand, and contingent, physical laws of nature on the other. For Leibniz, the contingency of physical laws entailed the assumption of the existence of an additional form of causality beyond mechanical or efficient ones. While geometrical truths, being necessary, do not require (...) the use of the principle of sufficient reason, physical laws are not strictly determined by geometry and therefore are logically distinct from geometrical laws. As a consequence, the set of laws that regulate the physical laws could have been created otherwise by God. However, in addition to this, the contingency of natural laws does not consist only in the fact that God has chosen them over other possible ones. On the contrary, Leibniz understood the status of natural laws as arising from the action internal to physical substances. Hence the actuality of physical laws results from a causal power that is inherent to substances rather than being the mere consequence of the way God arranged the relations between physical objects. Focusing on three instances of Leibniz’s treatment of contingency in physics, this paper argues that, in order to account for the contingency of physical laws, Leibniz maintained that final causes, in addition to efficient and mechanical ones, must operate in physical processes and operations. (shrink)

The Coronavirus disease pandemic of 2019 is a vast worldwide public health hazard, impacting people of all ages and socioeconomic statuses. Vaccination is one of the most effective methods of controlling a pandemic like COVID-19. This study aims to investigate the relationship between the number of vaccination injections and fear of COVID-19 and test whether beliefs benefit from vaccination COVID-19 mediate the effect of fear of COVID-19 on the number of vaccination injections. A total of 649 Vietnamese adults were enrolled (...) online to finish answering, including scales The Health Belief Model (HBM) and The Fear of COVID-19 (FCV-19S), consisting of 340 (52.4%) males and 309 (47.6%) females. The data were analyzed using variance, regression, and a simple mediation model. The total score of COVID-19 fear wasM= 22.26,SD= 5.49. Vietnamese fear of COVID-19 was at a medium level. Our results suggest that 18- to 20-year-olds are more fearful of COVID-19 than others. People who received the first dosage exhibited a greater fear of COVID-19 than those who received the second dose and were not inoculated. Additionally, the beliefs benefit of vaccination COVID-19 has a role in the relationship between the number of vaccination injections and fear of COVID-19. During the pandemic, adults in Vietnam are more afraid of COVID-19 than during prior outbreaks. Besides, the Vietnamese populace demonstrated a considerable demand for and high acceptability of the COVID-19 vaccine. The current study indicates that psychological counselors and therapists should counsel clients on the value of vaccination and address the fear of COVID-19 as public understanding of the benefits of vaccines increases. To further clarify the effect of this issue on the correlation between fear of COVID-19 and the number of vaccinations, the results of this study indicate that the existing vaccine communication factor for COVID-19 vaccination should be modified to increase confidence in the benefits of immunization. (shrink)

"The twelve chapters of this volume all began their existence as contributions to workshops held between 2009 and 2011 by a Danish-Swedish research network called The Aristotelian Tradition: The reception of Aristotle's works on logic and metaphysics in the Middle Ages, headquartered in Gothenburg and funded by the Bank of Sweden Tercentenary Foundation. Most of them were written by members of the network, some by invited speakers. While the volume amply illustrates the set of scholarly approaches characteristic of the "Copenhagen (...) School of Medieval Philosophy" (notably a strong philological foundation and an interest in ancient as well as medieval and Greek as well as Latin texts), its thematic diversity reflects the network's breadth of interests. What unites the chapters in this respect is simply a concern with different historical manifestations of Aristotelian thought on logical and metaphysical matters. The volume includes studies of texts by, among others, Apuleius, Boethius, Anonymus Aurelianensis III, Michael of Ephesus, Averroes, Anonymus Cantabrigiensis, Nicholas of Paris, Robert Kilwardby, Anonymus O, Thomas Aquinas, William of Ockham, and Francisco Suárez, relating to themes and passages in Aristotle's Categories, On Interpretation, Prior Analytics 1, Posterior Analytics 1, Sophistical Refutations and Metaphysics A and Z. The last two chapters consist of a new edition, with English translation and commentary, of the first part of a fiercely anti-Aristotelian work, which has been described as the starting-point for Renaissance Platonism and Aristotelianism alike: George Gemistos Plethon's On Aristotle's Departures from Plato."--. (shrink)

ABSTRACTIt has recently become fashionable among those who write on questions of moral responsibility to distinguish two different concepts, or senses, of moral responsibility via the labels ‘responsibility as attributability’ and ‘responsibility as accountability’. Gary Watson was perhaps the first to introduce this distinction in his influential 1996 article ‘Two Faces of Responsibility’ , but it has since been taken up by many other philosophers. My aim in this study is to raise some questions and doubts about this distinction and (...) to argue that it has led to confusion rather than clarification in debates over moral responsibility. In place of the attributability/accountability distinction, I propose that there is a single concept of moral responsibility underlying our actual moral practices. This core notion of moral responsibility, which I call ‘responsibility as answerability’, is well positioned to explain thos.. (shrink)

Cutting below tho verbal forms of literature in search of the deep lying philosophy of the mas is a procedure destined both to deepen and interest the mind. Mr. Kruger has chosen, from the pages of John Milton, a passage provocative of thought in that it links with Molinism the name of this great artist of literature.

For nearly two thousand years Buddhism has mystified and captivated both lay people and scholars alike. Seen alternately as a path to spiritual enlightenment, an system of ethical and moral rubrics, a cultural tradition, or simply a graceful philosophy of life, Buddhism has produced impassioned followers the world over. The Buddhist saint Nagarjuna, who lived in South India in approximately the first century CE, is undoubtedly the most important, influential, and widely studied Mahayana Buddhist philosopher. His many works include texts (...) addressed to lay audiences, letters of advice to kings, and a set of penetrating metaphysical and epistemological treatises. His greatest philosophical work, the Mulamadhyamikakarika--read and studied by philosophers in all major Buddhist schools of Tibet, China, Japan, and Korea--is one of the most influential works in the history of Indian philosophy. Now, in The Foundations of the Philosophy of the Middle Way, Jay L. Garfield provides a clear and and eminently readable translation of Nagarjuna's seminal work, offering those with little of no prior knowledge of Buddhist philosophy a view into the profound logic of the Mulamadhyamikakarika. Translated from the Tibetan, the tradition through which Nagarjuna's philosophical influence has largely been transmitted, Garfield presents a superb translation of Mulamadhyamikakarika in its entirety. Illuminating the systematic character of Nagarjuna's reasoning, as well as the works profundity, Garfield shows how Nagarjuna develops his doctrine that all phenomena are empty of inherent existence and essenceless. But, he argues, phenomena nonetheless exist conventionaly, and that indeed conventional existence and ultimate emptiness are in fact the same thing. This represents the radical understanding of the Buddhist doctrine of the two truths, or two levels of reality. Nagarjuna reinterprets all of Buddhist metaphysics and epistemology through this analytical framework--"a systematic and beautifully elegant philosophical dissection of reality." In turn, Garfield goes on to offer the only verse-by-verse commentary based upon the Indo-Tibetan Prasangika-Madhyamika reading of Nagarjuna, the school most influential in the development of Mahayana philosophy in Tibet, China, Korea, and Japan. Written specifically for the Western reader, the commentary explains Nagarjuna's positions and arguments in the language of Western metaphysics and epistemology, and connects Nagarjuna's concerns tho those of Western philosophers such as Sextus, Hume, and Wittgenstein. A fascinating and accessible translation of the foundational text for all Mahayana Buddhism text, The Fundamental Wisdom of the Middle Way will enlighten all those in search of the essence of reality. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XXIV, Number 1, April 1998, pp. 71-94 Hume on the Very Idea of a Relation MICHAEL COSTA I think it is a productive strategy in interpreting Hume's philosophy to examine very carefully exactly what constitutes for Hume the cognitive state of having a certain idea or belief. More often than not, interpretive pressures arise almost immediately when one comes to address the details in such cases. (...) Attempting to relieve these interpretive pressures can have substantial payoffs in understanding and evaluating Hume's philosophy, even when the attempts are not entirely successful.1 In this paper, I am going to raise the question, "What is the very idea of a relation for Hume?" which I will understand to mean, "What exactly constitutes the cognitive state of having an idea of a relation for Hume?" First I will argue for a particular account of what an idea of a relation must consist in for Hume. The account that I describe is essentially the same as one that has already been introduced by some recent work of Don Garrett,2 but I will offer here a new way of arriving at it. Also, I will examine in detail the capacity of the account to deal with each of Hume's categories of relation. Hume has extensive discussions of some of these (the "matters of fact" relations of space, time, identity, and causation), but almost nothing to say about some of the others (the "relations of ideas" of resemblance, contrariety, degree of quality, and quantity and number). All of them raise interpretive problems, and attempting to resolve them will suggest new ways of understanding a number of important issues in Hume's philosophy including: the nature of the cognitive process of comparing ideas and Michael Costa is at the Department of Philosophy, University of South Carolina, Columbia, South Carolina 29208 USA. email: [email protected] 72 Michael Costa deriving a general idea from the comparison, the distinction between having a belief and making an assertion or explicit judgment on the basis of one's beliefs, the nature of a fiction or fictitious idea, how Hume thinks that language and symbols enhance cognitive processing, and how we should understand Hume's empiricist criterion of meaning. The obvious place to start in addressing the question of what ideas of relation consist in for Hume is the section "Of relations" that appears early in the Treatise? Just prior to this section Hume indicates that he thinks of relations as complex ideas. He says, "complex ideas may be divided into Relations, Modes, and Substances" (T 13). He goes on in the section to draw a distinction between natural and philosophical relations as a distinction between those relations that are connected to associations in thought (the natural relations) and all relations whatsoever that can be conceived (the philosophical relations) (T 13-14). But that distinction does not in itself shed any light on the nature of our ideas of the latter as complex ideas. Nor, initially, do Hume's brief remarks on each of the seven categories of relations (T 14-15), although we will find some interesting issues to mine here after getting a better understanding of Hume's account of relations as complex ideas. We can get some help by recalling the way in which Hume draws the distinction between simple and complex ideas. This division is into Simple and Complex. Simple perceptions or impressions and ideas are such as admit of no distinction nor separation. The complex are the contrary to these, and may be distinguished into parts. Tho' a particular colour, taste, and smell are qualities all united together in this apple, 'tis easy to perceive they are not the same, but are at least distinguishable from each other. (T 2) A complex idea is one that can be distinguished into parts. Hume's illustration of the apple can easily mislead. He seems to be talking about an apple (physical object) as a collection of qualities. But for this to serve as an illustration of the distinction under discussion we must read him as talking about an impression or idea of an apple being a collection of impressions... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:20. HUME ON REASON1 One of the main concerns of Hume's Treatise of 2 Human Nature (T) is the investigation of the role that reason plays in belief and action. On the standard interpretation, Hume is taken to argue that neither our beliefs nor our actions are determined by reason; Books I and III are thus seen as sharing a common theme: the denigration of reason's role in human (...) affairs. Arguing for this view, Kemp Smith claims that "Hume's principle of the subordination of reason to the passions runs through his whole philosophy ", not merely through Books II and III. This interpretation of Hume's enterprise presupposes that the faculty of reason whose role in action is discussed in Book III is the same faculty which has been shown not to determine belief in Book I. In this paper I argue that a univocal reading of 'reason' and related terms like 'reasoning' throughout the Treatise has the consequence that there are major internal inconsistencies in Hume's philosophy, cannot account for some important sections of the work, and leads to misinterpretation of the nature of his overall argument. In its place I develop an interpretation which avoids these difficulties and emphasizes the radical nature of Hume's naturalism. The Argument of the Treatise Let me begin by reviewing the salient features of the main argument of the Treatise. In Book I, Hume is concerned to show that our most fundamental beliefs — e.g., about the continued and distinct existence of object, about what we are not presently observing, and in the existence of the self — are not acquired by reason, but instead by the imagination, influenced by custom and habit. In a typical passage, he argues: Reason can never shew us the connexion of one object with another, tho' aided by experience, and the observation of their constant conjunction in all past instances. When the mind, 21. therefore, passes from the idea or impression of one object to the idea or belief of another, it is not determin'd by reason... (T92)4 In Book III, and in Book II, Part III, Section III (Of the influencing motives of the will), Hume is concerned to show that reason alone can never produce any action, or give rise to volition (T414), and the same faculty is as incapable of preventing volition, or of disputing the preference with any passion or emotion (T414-415). Hume uses this result in Book III, Part I, Section I, to show that the rules of morality...are not conclusions of our reason (T457). Proponents of the univocal reading of 'reason' would hold that the Treatise thus constitutes a continuous attack on reason, showing that it causes neither our most fundamental beliefs nor our actions and moral judgments. But if this reading were correct, Hume would fail to avail himself of an obvious and persuasive argument for the conclusion he reaches in Books II and III, and in the latter books he would contradict the results of Book I. Conflict between Book I and Books II and III If Hume did have the same faculty in mind throughout the Treatise, a strong argument to show that reason does not cause action would be available to him in Books II and III, utilizing the results he has established in Book I. The principal way in which reason would be thought to influence action is by informing us of facts about efficient means to achieve our ends and about the possible effects of actions — facts about causal relations. Since the conclusion of Book I is that judgments about causal relations do not result from reason, it follows that even if such beliefs did cause action, it would still not be the case that reason caused action. But Hume not only does not make such an argument in Books II and III, he denies one of its premises — the claim that beliefs about causal relations do not result from reason — which was the main conclusion of Book I. In the 22. later books he asserts repeatedly that reason can cause beliefs about causal relations. For example, in Book III, he says:...reason, in a strict and philosophical... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:343 'LIVELY' MEMORY ANP 'PAST' MEMORY At the very beginning of the Treatise Hume distinguishes memory from imagination by noting two different features of ideas of memory not shared by ideas of imagination. The distinguishing marks of memory can be described as (1) memory conceived in terms of the liveliness or vivacity of its ideas and (2) memory conceived in terms of the constraints imposed on the order and (...) form of its ideas by the original impressions from which these ideas have been derived. Both of these conceptions of memory, according to Hume in this initial description, serve to distinguish ideas of memory from ideas of imagination. For purposes of brevity I shall call them, respectively, 'lively' memory and 'past' memory. In this paper I shall be concerned with four main issues arising from Hume's dual characterization of memory. First, I shall call attention to a point whose importance Hume scholars have not, I think, fully appreciated; namely, that later in Book I of the Treatise (Part III, Section V) Hume recognizes that his original dual characterization is not viable because it cannot be fit into his general theory of ideas and that, therefore, one of his two distinguishing features of memory must be abandoned. Second, I shall consider some problems generated by his abandonment of this conception of memory. Third, I shall construct a Humean solution to these problems, based on Hume's revised conception of memory -- a solution that he suggests but never develops. Finally, I shall apply Hume's revised characterization of memory to a central issue in his philosophy, his conception of the self, and show that, although he does not himself use it in his own 344 analysis, this characterization can provide a Humean explanation of our belief in our selves. My line of argument, which will depart not only from that of Hume but also of most of his commentators, is by no means free of difficulties; nevertheless, it has, I think, the virtue of being more consistent with Hume's general theory of ideas, hence is more Humean, than his own. To set the stage for our discussion I shall begin with Hume's initial description of memory and its difference from imagination, as it appears at the beginning of the Treatise. He writes as follows: We find by experience, that when any impression has been present with the mind, it again makes its appearance there as an idea; and this it may do after two different ways: either when in its new appearance it retains a considerable degree of its first vivacity, and is somewhat intermediate betwixt an impression and an idea; or when it entirely loses that vivacity, and is a perfect idea. The faculty, by which we repeat our impressions in the first manner, is called the MEMORY, and the other the IMAGINATION ___ There is another difference betwixt these two kinds of ideas, which is no less evident, namely that tho' neither the ideas of the memory nor imagination, neither the lively nor faint ideas can make their appearance in the mind, unless their correspondent impressions have gone before to prepare the way for them, yet the imagination is not restrain'd to the same order and form with the original impressions; while the memory is in a manner ty'd down in that respect, without any power of variation (T 89 ) A few comments on this passage are in order. Hume distinguishes memory from imagination on two grounds: (1) the experienced quality of the ideas 345 themselves and (2) the power or the faculty of the mind that produces them. Memory-ideas, as they actually occupy our consciousness, are lively and strong; imagination ideas are faint and languid. Also, memory and imagination, as separate faculties of the mind, differ in their power. Imagination is free to play with its ideas as it pleases; it can arrange and rearrange them at will, to allow us to contemplate "winged horses, fiery dragons, and monstrous giants." (T 10) Memory, however, has no such power but must reproduce impressions as memoryideas in the same order and form as they originally appeared in the mind. It requires little explanation to understand why... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:125, HUME'S PROBABILITY ARGUMENT OF?,??,? In the Treatise,?,??,?, Hume presents an follows:' argument which, in the barest of outlines, goes as 1 (Pl) Every proposition has a probability less than one. (P2) If reason were the basis of our beliefs, then we would have no beliefs. (follows from (Pl)) (P3) We in fact do have beliefs. Hence, (P4) Reason is not the basis of our beliefs. The argument has (...) not been particularly well received. D. C. Stove, for example, refers to it as being "not merely defective, but one of the worst 2 arguments ever to impose itself on a man of genius." While not everyone is as unsympathetic as Stove, it nonetheless is difficult to find commentators favorably disposed toward the argument. Various sections of the Treatise are notoriously unclear.?,??,? is such a section; as such, it is difficult to say just what Hume intended his argument to be. My contention in the present paper is that there are two reasonable ways of reconstructing Hume's argument, both consistent with what Hume writes in?,??,?. The first reconstruction is clearly unsound; the second reconstruction fares somewhat better. In particular, my contention will be that this second reconstruction, if not sound, is at least valid 4 and contains no obviously false premises. Allow me to make some preliminary comments before presenting these reconstructions. The reconstructions to follow will primarily be concerned with premise (P2) above; in particular, the 126. reconstructions will focus on how Hume can claim that (P2) follows from (Pl). Premise (Pl) is a common 5 sceptical claim, not obviously false, and certainly not unique to Hume. As such, it strikes me that the more interesting part of the argument is Hume's claim that (P2) follows from (Pl), and such will be the focus of the reconstructions (although (Pl) will be discussed toward the end of this paper). Concerning (P2), why does Hume think this follows from (Pl)? His reasoning is contained in the following passage; Having thus found in every probability, beside the original uncertainty inherent in the subject, a new uncertainty deriv'd from the weakness of that faculty, which judges, and having adjusted these two together, 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 and fidelity of our faculties. This is a doubt, which immediately occurs to us, and of which, if we wou'd closely pursue our reason, we cannot avoid giving a decision. But this decision, tho' it shou'd be favourable to our preceeding judgment, being founded only on probability, must weaken still further our first evidence, and must itself be weaken'd by a fourth doubt of the same kind, and so on in infinitum; till at last there remain nothing of the original probability, however great we may suppose it to have been, and however small the diminution by every new uncertainty. No finite object can subsist under a decrease repeated in infinitum; and even the vastest quantity, which can enter into human imagination, must in this manner be reduc'd to nothing. (T182) Not for nothing did I claim that this section of the Treatise is unclear. At best, I can discern only the outline of Hume's reasoning, which seems to go as follows: first, when we assign a probability to some 127, proposition, reason dictates that we re-evaluate this probability. In particular, reason dictates that we "add a new doubt deriv'd from the possibility of error in the estimation we make of the truth and fidelity of our faculties." Note that Hume never specifies the object of this 'new doubt.' He might mean a) that our doubt concerns whether the probability we assigned the proposition is correct, or b) that our doubt concerns the evidence on which we based the assignment of that probability. Whatever the case, this 'new doubt' must "weaken still further our first evidence," presumably resulting in a lowering of the probability we originally assigned to the proposition. We then repeat this doubting process, adding new doubts of the same kind in infinitum, "till at last there remain nothing of the original... (shrink)

Here lyes that mighty Man of SenseWho, full of years, departed hence,To teach the other world Intelligence,This was the prodigious Man,who vanquish’ d Pope and Puritan,By the Magic of Leviathan.Had he not Controversy wanted,His deeper Thoughts had not been scanted;Therefore good Spirits him transplant:Wise as he was, he could not tellWhether he went to Heaven or Hell.Beyond the Tenth Sphere, if there be a wide place,He'll prove by his Art there's no infinite space:And all good Angels may thank him, for (...) thatHe has prov’ d they are something, tho men know not what.Hobbes's Epitaph. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:177 SOCIAL JUSTICE: FROM RAWLS TO HUME It is said that "the implacable Professor," John Langshaw Austin, once set as a final examination question: "'Power polities': what other sorts of politics are there?" Had Hume been requested to discourse about social justice, he might well have responded in a parallel way: 'What non-social kinds is the insertion of that adjective intended to exclude from consideration?1 For, as Hayek has (...) urged, Hume chose an unfortunate label for the second of the two kinds of virtue distinguished at the beginning of Part II of Book III of the Treatise. Certainly "the circumstances and necessities of mankind," which give rise to the "artifice or contrivance" of what Hume calls artificial virtues, are "the circumstances and necessities" of social living; something which, he would always be the first to insist, is altogether natural to our species. So, if only he had thought to label this sort of virtues 'social' rather than 'artificial,1 he would not have had to end that Section I with an awkward final paragraph protesting that, "Tho' the rules of justice be artificial they are not arbitrary. Nor is the expression improper to call them Laws of Nature; if by natural we understand what is common to any species, or even if we confine it to mean what is inseparable from the species." In fact, it is just worth remarking, no contemporary ever would have asked Hume for his views about social justice; or, at any rate, not in those words. For, as my friend Roland Hall tells me, the first employment known to the revisers of the Oxford English Dictionary of what has since become one of the most popular of political cant phrases dates only from 1861. It occurs in Utilitarianism, at pp. 57-58 178 in the Everyman edition. There J. S. Mill first insists: not that society should treat all equally well, period; but "that society should treat all equally well who have deserved equally well of it." He continues: "This is the highest abstract standard of social and distributive justice; towards which all institutions, and the efforts of all virtuous citizens, should be made in the utmost possible degree to converge." Mill himself says nothing here, or perhaps anywhere, to explain what the adjective is supposed to be doing. It seems to have been a favourite, which he was the first to preface, with equally little particular reason given, to several other nouns. So if, as seems most likely, it is intended to be no more than a superfluous synonym for 'distributive,' then it becomes important for us to notice that to Mill, as to so many of his successors, the scope of "social and distributive justice" is universal: it is what determines who is the rightful possessor of any good whatever. Thus, in contemporary courts of distributive justice, everything is up for grabs. Yet it was not ever thus, and we ought to demand reason why it should have become so. Aristotle in the Nicomachean Ethics, was, so far as we know, the first philosopher to distinguish distributive from corrective justice. He ruled that the former "is exercized in distributions of honour or wealth or of anything else which is to be divided among those who have a share in the constitution; since in these it is possible for one to have an allocation either equal or unequal to that of another" (1130B30-4). A generation dazed by the drum-beat rhetoric of equality and social justice will no doubt be 179 inclined to construe these words as making the very modern assumption that there has been an active and collective distribution of all goods, and ought now to be an active and collective redistribution. Yet such anachronistic assumptions are ruled out as Aristotle proceeds: first, to entertain the oligarchic suggestion that the relevant criterion of entitlement might be the possession of wealth; and then to conclude that this "Justice in distributing common property... when a distribution is made from the common stock... will follow the same ratio as that between the amounts which the several persons have contributed to the common stock" (1131A 25-9 and 1131B 28-33). The common... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume 29, Number 2, November 2003, pp. 305-325 Hume, Sympathy, and the Theater BRIAN KIRBY Every movement of the theater, by a skillful poet, is communicated, as it were by magic, to the spectators; who weep, tremble, resent, rejoice, and are inflamed with all the variety of passions, which actuate the several personages of the drama. (EPM 5.2.26; SBN 221-2) Much has been written recently about the (...) role of sympathy in Hume's moral theory. That may indeed be its most important use. But it seems from a number of illustrations he uses that it has broader applications, in particular, application to a spectator's appreciation of drama. The problem some see with this broader application is that it conflicts with the basic definition of sympathy as a process by means of which impressions are shared. The actors on the stage would not seem to have the same passions which "inflame" the spectators. Worse, the spectators do not believe in their hearts that the passions which inflame them have real correlates. At first blush, "sympathy" might mean any one of several things. In "The Conscience of Huckleberry Finn," for example, Jonathan Bennett says, "As for 'sympathy': I use this term to cover every sort of fellow-feeling, as when one feels pity over someone's loneliness, or horrified compassion over his pain, and when one feels a shrinking reluctance to act in a way which will bring misfortune to someone else."1 However, fellow-feeling is not a sharing of feelings in Hume's sense. Alvin I. Goldman comes closer to Hume's meaning in a narrow description of empathy: "To empathize with someone, in its Brian Kirby, Associate Professor of Philosophy Emeritus at St. Lawrence University, is at 172 Miner Street Road, Canton, NY 13617, USA. e-mail: [email protected] 306 Brian Kirby most frequent sense, is to sympathize or commiserate, which involves shared attitudes, sentiments, or emotions."2 Still, Hume's sympathy is not the commiseration but rather what is involved in the commiseration, the shared attitudes, sentiments, and emotions. "No quality of human nature," says Hume, "is more remarkable, both in itself and in its consequences, than that propensity we have to sympathize with others, and to receive by communication their inclinations and sentiments, however different from, or even contrary to our own" (T 2.1.11.2; SBN 316). The principle of sympathy as he describes it in his technical sense is as follows: When any affection is infus'd by sympathy, it is at first known only by its effects, and by those external signs in the countenance and conversation, which convey an idea of it. This idea is presently converted into an impression, and acquires such a degree of force and vivacity, as to become the very passion itself, and produce an equal emotion, as any original affection. However instantaneous this change of the idea into an impression may be, it proceeds from certain views and reflections, which will not escape the strict scrutiny of a philosopher, tho' they may the person himself, who makes them. (T 2.1.11.3; SBN 317) If sympathy has to do with the sharing of impressions, what can one say about possible broader applications in which the correlate impression is absent? One tack to take is to dismiss the illustrative examples as aberrations or at least minor inconsistencies on Hume's part. A second is to argue that the broader applications follow reasonably, given Hume's description of the mechanism of sympathy. I propose, in this paper, to take the second tack. The above description characterizes what one might call sympathy in its normal social context in which the feelings of another are identifiable from his verbal and bodily behavior. Of course, the identification is not infallible. The other person may intend to deceive by lying or mimicking the behavior associated with a feeling. But such occasions are parasitic on normal contexts. But beyond the normal social context, there are other occasions which elicit sympathy, situations in which passions are aroused in the sympathizers for good cause, but which have no correspondent in the objects of sympathy. The case... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume, Strict Identity, and Time's Vacuum Michael J. Costa It is well known that Hume distinguishes between strict identity and the identity that applies to changeable objects, such as physical objects or persons. Identity judgments that we make with respect to changeable objects are based upon a number offeatures that determine how likely it is for the mind to confuse the perception of such objects with the continuous perception (...) ofan unchanging object. Strict identity can apply only to the latter (T 203-18, 253-63). Even the idea of strict identity, however, is considered by Hume to be a fiction and based at bottom on a confusion. I will concentrate here on Hume's account of the idea of strict identity, and I will try to explain the precise sense in which Hume considers this idea to be a fiction and based upon a confusion. Some very able commentators have dealt with this topic before, but none of the accounts with which I am familiar give adequate attention to the full context of Hume's account in the Treatise. They do not note the degree to which his account develops out ofand depends upon verybasic features of his system, such as his characterization of relations as complex ideas (T 13) and his theory of abstract ideas (T 17-25). Nor do the accounts note the degree to which the idea of strict identity is tied to the idea of time without change (T 64-5), and through that, to the idea of a vacuum (T 53-65).2 I shall argue that viewing Hume's account of the idea of strict identity in light of his accounts of complex and abstract ideas, his account ofthe idea ofa vacuum, and his account oftime without change makes considerable sense of it, at least as an account that it is reasonable for him to hold. I will proceed by examining each of these features in turn. Along the way I hope to make some novel and enlightening interpretative points with regard to complex ideas, abstract ideas, the idea of time, and the idea of a vacuum. I Hume tells us that simple perceptions (whether impressions or ideas) are those which admit of no distinction nor separation, whereas complex perceptions are contrary to these and may be distinguished into parts (T 2). The example that he immediately gives, however, at best clouds the distinction he has made. He says, Tho' a particular Volume XVI Number 1 MICHAEL J. COSTA colour, taste, and smell are qualities all united together in this apple, 'tis easy toperceive they are not the same, but are at least distinguishable from each other (T 2). This may make it seem that simple ideas are universals and that a mere distinction ofreason (see T 24) is enough to show that a perception is not simple; but I think that Hume did not have universals in mind at all with respect to the simple/complex distinction. Every perception-proper for Hume is a particular, an existent (T 66-7). There is, indeed, something more to a universal or abstractideafor Hume than a particular idea, but this something more is a disposition and not another idea or perception. I see no evidence that Hume intended the simple/complex distinction to apply to the dispositions connected with abstract ideas. Note that in the apple example, the ideas mentioned are of different sense modalities. They can be distinguished psychologically, and not merely as distinctions of reason. One can form a distinct idea of the colour of the apple without forming any idea of taste or smell. The shape of the apple would not be distinct in the same way. Any idea of the shape of the apple would, for Hume, also be an idea of some colour or other. This becomes important when we note that Hume characterizes space and time (indeed, all relations) as complex ideas (T 13). He does not mean that these ideas are logically analyzable; he means that any instance of these ideas is psychologically analyzable. Any instance is analyzable into idea parts that can be considered separately in mind from the other idea parts. An instance ofspace or extension... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:424 CAN HUME'S USE OF A SIMPLE/COMPLEX DISTINCTION BE MADE CONSISTENT? There is little doubt that Hume equivocates on the distinction between simple and complex impressions and ideas. Sometimes he identifies properties such as colors and shapes as simples. This is what he does, in fact, when he first introduces the distinction: Simple perceptions or impressions and ideas are such as admit of no distinction nor separation. The complex (...) are the contrary to these, and may be distinguished into parts. Tho' a particular colour, taste, and smell are qualities all united together in this apple, 'tis easy to perceive they are not the same, but are at least distinguishable from each other. Later, however, Hume speaks of simples not as qualities (or, of course, as substances) but as objects, i.e., things with properties: it is not red and round that are the simples but the red, round spot. He says, for example: Before I leave this subject I shall employ the same principles to explain that distinction of reason, which is so much talk'd of, and is so little understood, in the schools. Of this kind is the distinction betwixt figure and the body figur'd; motion and the body mov'd. The difficulty of explaining this distinction arises from the principle above explain'd, that all ideas, which are different, are separable. For it follows from thence, that if the figure be different from the body, their ideas must be separable as well as distinguishable; if they be not different, their ideas can neither be separable nor distinguishable (T 2425 ). 425 A genuine inconsistency with regard to the simple/complex distinction would have far reaching implications for Hume's system. Even the question concerning his understanding of necessity may be affected. It has been argued, for example, that what Hume believes separates the philosophical relations that are necessary from those that are not is that the former are internal relations. The suggestion is that the doctrine of internal relations, which is inextricably tied to a specific characterization of a simple/complex distinction, provides the essential contrast Hume needs for his ultimate denial that the causal relation is necessary. The consequences are compounded if we also take Robinson to be right in his attempt to reconcile Hume's 'conflicting' statements about causation in terms of the distinction between the natural and philosophical relations. While it is pointless to deny the ambiguity just set out (and, of course, one must remain constantly watchful to determine how Hume is employing the simple/complex distinction in a particular case), I believe a reconciliation of the two positions is still possible and that there is no genuine contradiction in Hume's system over this issue. The principle shift occurs between the distinction presented in logical terms and its presentation in psychological terms. In the latter instance what Hume seems to be worried about is Platonism: a metaphysics that countenances the existence of unexemplif ied qualities. This is most evident in the passage above where Hume, in effect, makes the following argument: if it were the case that (1) what is distinguishable in thought is separable in reality; and (2) figure and body are 426 distinguishable in thought; then it would follow that (3) figure and body are separable in reality. However, (3), i.e., Platonism, is false. But then so must be (2). Hume never deviates from this conclusion and its implications for his model of thought throughout the Treatise. It is this argument, for example, which became the basis for Hume's accusation against Locke's theory of abstraction and the foundation of his own view. So far Hume has it that neither thought nor experience present us with colors and shapes in isolation. This is his psychological point. Yet that need not be seen as conclusive with regard to what is to count as a logical simple. Building on his notion of a distinction of reason, Hume says: Thus when a globe of white marble is presented, we receive only the impression of a white colour dispos 'd in a certain form, nor are we able to separate and distinguish the colour from the form. But observing afterwards... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XXVI, Number 1, April 2000, pp. 159-169 Hume and Matthew Prior's "Alma" CHRISTOPHER MACLACHLAN In 1987 M. A. Box identified the verse quotations in Hume's essays "Of Essay Writing" and "The Epicurean."1 It is therefore odd that in their edition of a selection of the essays, Stephen Copley and Andrew Edgar should state in a note to "Of Essay Writing" that "the source of this couplet (...) has not been located. In his [1985] edition of the Essays Eugene Miller has suggested that it may belong to the same author or poem as the couplet quoted in 'The Epicurean'."2 Miller of course was quite right, for, as Box showed, both couplets come from Matthew Prior's poem "Alma: or, The Progress of the Mind," first published in 1718.3 The first couplet reads as follows in "Of Essay Writing": Stunn'd and worn out with endless chat, Of Will did this, and Nan did that? (Essays 1) The question mark is not in the original, but is required because Hume is using the quotation to end an interrogative sentence, and Hume has replaced "Nan said that" with "Nan did that," but otherwise these are clearly lines 524 and 525 of the third canto of "Alma" (p. 514). In "The Epicurean" appear these lines: What foolish figure must it make? Do nothing else but sleep and ake. (Essays 79) Christopher MacLachlan is at the School of English, University of St Andrews, St Andrews, Fife KY16 9AL, Scotland, e-mail: [email protected] 160 Christopher MacLachlan The italics are not in the original, and the first line reads "A foolish figure He must make," but these are clearly lines 116 and 117 of the first canto of "Alma." Beyond these identifications Box's note does not go, except to point out a reference to the poem in Hume's Treatise. Hume is arguing that "shou'd an author compose a treatise, of which one part was serious and profound, another light and humorous, every one wou'd condemn so strange a mixture, and wou'd accuse him of the neglect of all rules of art and criticism," one of which he says "requires a consistency in every performance" since "the mind is incapable of passing in a moment from one passion and disposition to quite a different one." But he immediately adds: Yet this makes us not blame Mr. Prior for joining his Alma and his Solomon in the same volume; tho' that admirable poet has succeeded perfectly well in the gaiety of the one, as well as in the melancholy of the other... because [the reader] considers these performances as entirely different, and by this break in the ideas, breaks the progress of the affections. (T II ii 8)4 This is useful in confirming Hume's acquaintance with the poem. His use of its name, and the contrast with Prior's earlier work, "Solomon on the Vanity of the World,"5 suggests he also expected his readers to be familiar at least with the nature of both poems. Even in 1781, when Samuel Johnson opened the second volume of his Lives of the English Poets with his life of Prior, he could write as though Prior were still a well-known poet, though there are signs in Johnson's comments on the poems themselves that they were not as widely read as before. He does, however, single out "Alma" and "Solomon" for particular comment. Johnson's life of Prior may signal the beginning of the decay of his reputation from the relatively high regard in which he was held in the first part of the eighteenth century, when he could be ranked with Pope and Swift, to his present obscurity. But more striking than the fact that Hume shared a taste for Prior's verse is the prominence he gave to "Alma," and the implication that he knew this poem very well, for the couplets he quotes from it are not only from widely spaced parts of the poem (one just over a hundred lines from its beginning, and the other less than a hundred from its end),6 but they... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:109 HUME'S MISSING SHADE OF BLUE, INTERPRETED AS INVOLVING HABITUAL SPECTRA David Hume claimed that his hypothetical case of the unseen shade of blue posed no fundamental problem to his general empiricist principle. But I believe it well may show exactly what he denied it showed — viz., that his empiricism rests on a mistake. Hume says: Suppose... a person to have enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and (...) to have become perfectly well acquainted with colours of all kinds, excepting one particular shade of blue, for instance, which it never has been his fortune to meet with. Let all the different shades of that colour, except that single one, be plac'd before him, descending gradually from the deepest to the lightest; 'tis plain, that he will perceive a blank, where that shade is wanting, and will be sensible, that there is a greater distance in that place betwixt the contiguous colours, than in any other. Now I ask, whether 'tis possible for him, from his own imagination, to supply this deficiency, and raise up to himself the idea of that particular shade, tho' it had never been conveyed to him by his senses? I believe there are few but will be of opinion that he can.... Sometimes one is surprised by the colour which emerges when one mixes paints, powders or lights of different hues, in the sense that one is unable to imagine this resulting colour until one actually sees it. I often have analogous experiences when sightreading music on the trombone. If there is a large, unfamiliar interval between the note I am playing and the one to be played next, so I cannot 'hear' the next note inwardly, I bring the slide to the correct position, set my lips at approximately the right tension, and presto! the correct note appears, despite 110 my inability to predict what it was going to sound like. Only after I have heard it can I also 'hear' it, i.e, predict its occurrence in this melodic line. Cases like these are not puzzling philosophically, because in them, the note, colour, etc. arises primarily from the equipment used — e.g., paints, powders or lights, the trombone and tension of the lips, and so on — rather than from the mind of the person who uses these things. But in Hume's example, no extra-mental objects or events play a direct role in creating the imagined colour. In fact, this colour never appears at all outside the subject's mind, and he never sees it. Therefore here the imagined colour is produced entirely by the subject himself, without his having copied it from anything in the external world. Yet this contradicts the maxim Hume laid down at the beginning of the Treatise that all simple ideas arise from correspondingly simple (sense) impressions. Two points perhaps mitigate the seriousness of the problem set by the missing shade of blue. First, Hume saw clearly, as Locke did not, that "innate" does 2 not mean the same as "justified." He was not so much concerned with the question of where ideas come from, as with how these ideas can be shown to be legitimate. His answer to the latter question is that experience alone is competent to show this. Second, strictly speaking, no idea is itself a piece of knowledge, but only something with the help of which one constructs knowledge-claims; and it is necessary for a person to justify knowledge-claims which are composed of innate ideas, by checking them against experience, just as much as knowledge-claims composed of non-innate materials. For example, suppose I possess innately the idea (visual image) of blue and the idea (tactile image) of cool. To say that these ideas are innate means that they are merely triggered or activated in my Ill mind by experiences I happen to have, but are not created by these experiences, and are not necessarily copies of them. Nevertheless, in order for me to know something which involves these ideas, I first must put them together in a judgment, and then confirm that judgment by appeal to experience. For instance, I might use these ideas to make the judgment... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:160 THE HUMEAN PROMISE: WHENCE COMES ITS OBLIGATION? Introduction David Hume offers an extended analysis of promising, and his observations and conclusions reflect a remarkable insight into the nature and origins of promising and promissory obligation. Hume argues that promising is naturally unintelligible and could only arise via an artifice; that this artifice arises because each person sees his or her mutual advantage in it; and that afterwards a (...) sentiment of morals concurs with interest and becomes a new obligation upon mankind. How, for Hume, do promises obligate, and how are we to understand this new obligation? I shall argue that for Hume the obligations of promising are two: the natural obligation to accept and participate in the artifice itself — this obligation arises from a natural inclination to approve of those artifices which we see as necessary for our survival — and the artificial obligation to faithfully execute a particular service or transaction of property in the future as expressed by the words? promise'. I shall begin with some explanatory remarks on Hume's views of human nature and the artifices which this nature produces, some of which bear directly on our understanding of Hume's treatment of promissory obligation. Background Hume's view of mankind is that it is a selfcorrective species, relying heavily on its penchant for imagination, and that without these traits, particularly imagination, it would be, without doubt, an extinct species. Much of the Treatise is a naturalistic account of human nature: a nature which includes not only instincts and passions, but the 161 ability to transcend and control them with artificial conventions when they become counterproductive and disadvantageous to society; although even these artificial conventions or artifices must be approved by their users and, to this extent, are a natural outcome. "We readily forget," Hume states, "that the designs, and projects, and views of men are principles as necessary in their operation as heat and cold, moist and dry." (T 474) Hume attaches no necessity to the particular form human nature has taken nor to the environment in which it is placed. His aim is to give a naturalistic account of the way things are, both socially and psychologically. Hume uses the word 'natural' in one place to mean what is common to any species, or what is inseparable from the species, and this includes for him the artifices of mankind. (T 484) Unlike Hobbes, he optimistically describes human nature as a combination of self-interest and benevolence, and "...tho' it be rare to meet with one, who loves any single person better than himself; yet 'tis as rare to meet with one, in whom all the kind affections, taken together, do not over-balance all the selfish." (T 487) The natural virtues originate from our kind affections and have no dependence on the contrivance 2 or artifice of man (T 574) nor on the contrivance of a deity. What makes meekness, beneficence, charity, generosity and equity virtuous is simply man's natural approval of them: "virtue is distinguished by the pleasure, and vice by the pain, that any action, sentiment or character gives us by the mere view and contemplation." (T 475) Hume's natural virtues are selected from natural motives which are of the spontaneous instinctive sort. Although Hume believes that selfishness is an overemphasized human trait, he does say that each man 162 (and probably woman) loves himself (herself) better than any other single person. (T 487) This selfishness, however, is not exclusively selfcentered, but manifests itself in a "confined generosity" that moves outward concentrically from the interested self to his or her family and friends. Beyond this circle of friends we are generally distrustful of others and will naturally revert to our individual self-interest when interacting with them. The one trait of which Hume makes great use throughout the Treatise to explain and describe human behavior is imagination. The word 'imagination' has many meanings, three of which are alluded to by Hume. Imagination may take a material or practical shape in the form of an invention, whereby someone imagines some object and then invents it. Examples of imagination qua inventiveness include actual physical inventions and may include the Humean artifices. Imagination... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XXI, Number 2, November 1995, pp. 315-332 Robertson, Hume, and the Balance of Power FREDERICK G. WHELAN William Robertson, like his Scottish Enlightenment colleague David Hume, practiced a kind of philosophic history which, although it appears to consist mainly of narratives of political and military events, is also designed to teach moral and political lessons of general significance and utility. The principal theme of Hume's History (...) of England, for example, is the growth of legal and constitutional government in connection with the emergence of modern society; Hume's narrative implicitly justifies both such a government and the moderate politics on which it depends. A theme of comparable importance in Robertson's History of Charles V (1769) is the emergence of a balance of power and thence a relatively stable international system among European states in the early sixteenth century, when the policy of balance first clearly appeared. As he declares in his Preface: The political principles and maxims then established still continue to operate. The ideas concerning the balance of power, then introduced or rendered general, still influence the councils of nations. (R 307)1 Robertson both describes the relevant policy decisions (especially the alliance between the traditional enemies, England and France, to counter the threat posed by Charles Vs unprecedentedly large empire) and justifies such policies as reasonable and beneficial.2 Frederick G. Whelan is at the Political Science Department, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh PA 15260 USA. 316 Frederick G. Whelan In treating this theme, Robertson was taking up a topic that was of interest to Hume as well. Hume refers on a number of occasions to the sixteenth century balance of power in his History chapters on the reign of Henry VIII (1759),3 especially in the portion extending through the 1520s, and he treats the topic more systematically in his earlier essay "Of the Balance of Power" (1752).4 Hume like Robertson defends balance of power policies in general, and Hume certainly (Robertson probably) had a more particular reason for doing so: to justify contemporary British (Whig) foreign policy (and several wars), which since the reign of Louis XIV had aimed at maintaining a European counterbalance to France.5 Hume's and Robertson's favorable descriptions of the sixteenth century anti-Habsburg policy provide a useful background for defending the eighteenth century anti-Bourbon policy.6 Indeed, both Hume and Robertson probably exaggerated the prevalence of the balance of power, at least as a conscious policy, in the early sixteenth century; although they were no doubt correct in noting that something like the modern state system first began to take shape at that time, they seem to have projected the eighteenth century emphasis on balance backwards in time as a way of legitimizing it.7 Robertson sums up the fifty year period he covers by observing that the similar stage of development of the states of Europe at that time, together with the policy of balance, permitted the preservation of a fairly stable system of independent states that has lasted until the present: But the advantages possessed by one state were counterbalanced by circumstances favourable to others; and thus prevented any from attaining such superiority as might have been fatal to all. The nations of Europe in that age, as in the present, were like one great family.... There was not among them that wide diversity of character and of genius which, in almost every period of history, hath exalted the Europeans above the inhabitants of the other quarters of the globe, and seems to have destined the one to rule and the others to obey. (R 704) Hume's concern with contemporary policy, and with France, is more conspicuous: Europe has now, for above a century, remained on the defensive against the greatest force that ever, perhaps, was formed by the civil or political combination of mankind. And such is the influence of the maxim here treated of, that tho' that ambitious nation, in the five last general wars, have been victorious in four, and unsuccessful only in one, they have not much enlarged their dominions, nor acquired a total ascendant over EUROPE.... In the last three of these general Hume... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:192 HUME'S REFUTATION OF — WOLLASTON? Recently while rereading Book III of Hume's Treatise I was struck by an anomaly in the text that I had never noticed before. It consists in the juxtaposition of two arguments Hume offers regarding the source of the moral qualities of our actions. At first I dismissed Hume's arrangement of these arguments as being of little consequence — one of them appears in (...) a footnote — but the more I thought about the juxtaposition the more it intrigued and puzzled me. Expecting that it must have been noted by other readers I checked through the literature to find some discussion of it. Since after a long search I have failed to uncover anything, and believing the point, which relates to Hume's central view concerning morality, to be of some interest, I have decided to write this brief paper. Two passages from § 1, entitled "Moral Distinctions not deriv'd from Reason," of Part I, Book III, are involved. Hume begins the section by arguing that, because of the limited scope of its capacities, reason cannot distinguish between right and wrong or, as he puts it, between virtue and vice, and therefore that it is a mistake to speak of actions as being reasonable or unreasonable. Since Hume's views on this question are well-known and since they are not directly relevant to the point of my paper, I shall not pursue them further, but turn directly to the issue at hand. After having stated his argument at the beginning of § 1 and reached the conclusion that "actions may be laudable or blameable, but they cannot be reasonable or unreasonable," Hume turns to answer an objection that might be made against him by a rationalist ethicist. He writes: 193 But perhaps it may be said, that tho' no will or action can be immediately contradictory to reason, yet we may find such a contradiction in some of the attendants of the action, that is, in its causes or effects (T 459). Pursuing this objection, Hume first considers the causes of our actions. He acknowledges that we can be led astray in what we do in two ways; by making mistakes of fact, first, about the nature of some object we desire (e.g., thinking some fruit delicious when it really is not) and, second, about the means we should employ to gain the object (e.g., attempting to pluck the fruit when it is beyond our reach). Although these errors cause us to act in ways that may be termed unreasonable in a "figurative and improper way of speaking" (T 459), they cannot be the source of any immorality in what we do because they are committed involuntarily and innocently. A person who falls into such errors and acts on them is "more to be lamented than blam'd" (T 459). To conclude his answer to the rationalistic objection he has raised, Hume turns next to the issue of whether the immorality of our actions can be explained in terms of the unreasonableness of any of their effects. In a memorable passage he denies that the fact that false judgments are the effects of our actions can be the source of immorality in what we do. As to those judgments which are the effects of our actions, and which, when false, give occasion to pronounce the actions contrary to truth and reason; we may observe, that our actions never cause any judgment, either true or false, in ourselves, and that 'tis only on others they have such an influence. 'Tis certain, that an action, on many occasions, may give rise to false conclusions in others; and that a 194 person, who thro' a window sees any lewd behaviour of mine with my neighbour's wife, may be so simple as to imagine she is certainly my own. In this respect my action resembles somewhat a lye or falshood; only with this difference, which is material, that I perform not the action with any intention of giving rise to a false judgment in another, but merely to satisfy my lust and passion. It causes, however, a mistake and false judgment by accident; and the falshood... (shrink)

This paper argues that Nietzsche develops a novel and compelling account of the distinction between conscious and unconscious mental states: he argues that conscious mental states are those with conceptual content, whereas unconscious mental states are those with nonconceptual content. I show that Nietzsche’s puzzling claim that consciousness is ‘superficial’ and ‘falsifying’ can be given a straightforward explanation if we accept this understanding of the conscious/unconscious distinction. I originally defended this view in my ‘Nietzsche’s Theory of Mind: Consciousness and Conceptualization’ (...) ; since then, the view has come under criticism on several fronts. Brian Leiter and others suggest that there is not enough textual evidence for the view. In addition, Leiter, Mattia Riccardi and Tsarina Doyle argue that, rather than aligning the conscious/unconscious distinction with the conceptual/nonconceptual distinction, Nietzsche endorses a higher-order tho.. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:IT AIN'T NECESSITY, SO... (With Apologies to George Gershwin) I shall argue in this paper that what Hume calls the idea of necessary connection is mislabelled, and that what he ought to call the idea of necessary connection is not so labelled. My argument is not that there are, on Hume's view, real necessary connections between causes and their effects but rather that there is an idea of genuine (...) necessary connection — what I call logical necessity — which we all mistakenly believe extends to causal connections. The genesis of this mistake is given a psychological explanation in the Treatise. Precisely how does Hume account for the origin of what he calls our idea of necessary connection? I have argued elsewhere that, whatever the answer, it has little philosophical importance. My reason was that, given Hume's view that causal connections are not necessary, the question must be viewed as one within psychology. Recent work on Hume, however, has convinced me that my former opinion was much too quick. Imlay, for example, has challenged Hume's distinction between demonstrative and probable inference on the grounds that Hume gives only one account of necessity for both 2 mathematical and lawlike truths. As I now see much more clearly, there are important philosophical distinctions that must be made in any full explication of Hume's view of the origin of our idea of causal necessity. I shall attempt an answer to the lead question of the second paragraph. My strategy is as follows. I shall first present a synopsis of Hume's account of our belief in causal necessity. Next, I shall develop 87. 88. a view of logical necessity. Finally, I shall briefly examine the exact genesis of the confusion between logical and causal necessity. Consider the following three propositions: (1)Hume does not believe that there are necessary causal connections. (2)All statements of laws of nature are on Hume's view descriptions of constant conjunctions, the logical form of which is captured by the Russellian " (x) [fx => gx]." (3)This logical form captures Hume's first definition of "cause." On these three propositions I and many other philosophers agree. I and an ever-shrinking number of philosophers also believe that Hume is right. But everyone, according to Hume, in some sense believes that causal connections are necessary; the Humean philosopher knows they are not but acts otherwise, while the ordinary person simply acts without the knowledge. Since everyone believes what is false, only a psychological explanation can be given for why we believe it anyway. Thus, Hume's second definition of "cause", and the view that the idea of necessity arises from the determination of the mind to pass from the impression of a cause to an idea of 3 its effect. The three most salient passages from the Treatise on the production of the idea of necessary connection follow. As we shall see, these passages cannot be understood without considering a number of others. For after a frequent repetition, I find, that upon the appearance of one of the objecte, the mind is determin 'd by custom to consider its usual attendant, and to consider it in a stronger light upon account of 89. its relation to the first object. 'Tis this impression, then, or determination, which affords me the idea of necessity. (T 156) Tho ' the several resembling instances, which give rise to the idea of power, have no influence on each other, and can never produce any new quality in the object, which can be the model of that idea, yet the observation of this resemblance produces a new impression in the mind, which is its real model. For after we have observ 'd the resemblance in a sufficient number of instances, we immediately feel a determination of the mind to pass from one object to its usual attendant, and to conceive it in a stronger light upon account of that relation. This determination is the only effect of the resemblance; and therefore must be the same with power or efficacy, whose idea is deriv 'd from the resemblance. The several instances of resembling conjunctions leads us into the notion of power and necessity.... Necessity, then... (shrink)

The history of science is articulated by moments of discovery. Yet, these 'moments' are not simple or isolated events in science. Just as a scientific discovery illuminates our understanding of nature or of society, and reveals new connections among phenomena, so too does the history of scientific activity and the analysis of scientific reasoning illuminate the processes which give rise to moments of discovery and the complex network of consequences which follow upon such moments. Understanding discovery has not been, until (...) recently, a major concern of modem philosophy of science. Whether the act of discoyery was regarded as mysterious and inexplicable, or obvious and in no need of explanation, modem philosophy of science in effect bracketed the question. It concentrated instead on the logic of scientific explanation or on the issues of validation or justification of scientific theories or laws. The recent revival of interest in the context of discovery, indeed in the acts of discovery, on the part of philosophers and historians of science, represents no one particular method'ological or philosophical orientation. It proceeds as much from an empiricist and analytical approach as from a sociological or historical one; from considerations of the logic of science as much as from the alogical or extralogical contexts of scientific tho'¢tt and practice. But, in general, this new interest focuses sharply on the actual historical and contem porary cases of scientific discovery, and on an examination of the act or moment of discovery in situ. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XXVI, Number 1, April 2000, pp. 171-177 Hume's Revised Racism Revisited AARON GARRETT John Immerwahr's brief note "Hume's Revised Racism" is doubtless one of the most intriguing recent discussions of Hume and racism.1 Immerwahr presents a thesis as to why Hume revised a footnote originally added to his essay "Of National Characters" (hereafter "ONC") in 1753. In this note I will examine and dispute Immerwahr's thesis, (...) which I believe can be shown to be seriously flawed. It is important to do so, as Immerwahr's note has been quoted a number of times in books and articles on Hume, and his thesis has been taken as gospel without sufficient examination of the grounds for his claims.2 As a consequence, Immerwahr's thesis is in danger of becoming a stubborn belief, even if not properly supportable. The controversy about Hume's racism centers on one infamous footnote added to the essay "Of National Characters" in the 1753-1754 edition of Essays and Treatises on Several Subjects. Why should we care about one footnote? We should care because the footnote seems to go against the image of a philosopher we thought we knew, and whom we likely esteem. In addition, it is shockingly bigoted. It reads in its entirety: I am apt to suspect the negroes, and in general all the other species of men (for there are four or five different kinds) to be naturally inferior to the whites. There never was a civilized nation of any other complexion than white, nor even any individual eminent either in action or speculation. No ingenious manufactures amongst them, no arts, no Aaron Garrett is at the Department of Philosophy, Boston University, 745 Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, MA 02215, USA. e-mail: [email protected] 172 Aaron Ganett sciences. On the other hand, the most rude and barbarous of the whites, such as the ancient Germans, the present Tartars, have still something eminent about them, in their valour, form of government, or some other particular. Such a uniform and constant difference could not happen, in so many countries and ages, if nature had not made an original distinction betwixt these breeds of men. Not to mention our colonies, there are Negroe slaves dispersed all over Europe, of which none ever discovered any symptom of ingenuity; tho' low people, without education, will start up amongst us, and distinguish themselves in every profession. In Jamaica, indeed, they talk of one negroe as a man of parts and learning; but 'tis likely he is admired for very slender accomplishments, like a parrot, who speaks a few words plainly.3 The footnote was not present in the 1748 edition of the Essays, Moral and Political, or Three Essays, Moral and Political, where ONC first saw light. In the 1768 edition there is one very minor alteration (from "tho' low people" to "though low people"). In the 1770 edition the footnote becomes an endnote, M,4 and there are again a few minor changes (from "betwixt these breeds of men" to "between these breeds of men"; from "of which never discovered" to "of whom never discovered"; for "'tis likely he is admired," read "it is likely he is admired") and one interesting substantive change (for "admired for very slender accomplishments," read "admired for slender accomplishments"). The most important change from the 1753 version of the note is in the 1777 posthumous edition, which Hume had corrected before he died. Hume rewrote the first two lines of 177OM, to read in 1777M: I am apt to suspect the negroes to be naturally inferior to the whites. There scarcely ever was a civilized nation of that complexion, nor even any individual eminent either in action or speculation.5 In "Hume's Revised Racism," Immerwahr argues that it is likely that Hume, after reading James Beattie's "Essay On Truth" and in light of his criticisms, revised the footnote in the 1777 edition of ONC. Immerwahr cites two pieces of evidence, a letter from Hume to Strahan to which he refers but does not quote, and Beattie's criticisms of Hume, which Hume may have read (although how much of it he read... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:177 SOCIAL JUSTICE: FROM RAWLS TO HUME It is said that "the implacable Professor," John Langshaw Austin, once set as a final examination question: "'Power polities': what other sorts of politics are there?" Had Hume been requested to discourse about social justice, he might well have responded in a parallel way: 'What non-social kinds is the insertion of that adjective intended to exclude from consideration?1 For, as Hayek has (...) urged, Hume chose an unfortunate label for the second of the two kinds of virtue distinguished at the beginning of Part II of Book III of the Treatise. Certainly "the circumstances and necessities of mankind," which give rise to the "artifice or contrivance" of what Hume calls artificial virtues, are "the circumstances and necessities" of social living; something which, he would always be the first to insist, is altogether natural to our species. So, if only he had thought to label this sort of virtues 'social' rather than 'artificial,1 he would not have had to end that Section I with an awkward final paragraph protesting that, "Tho' the rules of justice be artificial they are not arbitrary. Nor is the expression improper to call them Laws of Nature; if by natural we understand what is common to any species, or even if we confine it to mean what is inseparable from the species." In fact, it is just worth remarking, no contemporary ever would have asked Hume for his views about social justice; or, at any rate, not in those words. For, as my friend Roland Hall tells me, the first employment known to the revisers of the Oxford English Dictionary of what has since become one of the most popular of political cant phrases dates only from 1861. It occurs in Utilitarianism, at pp. 57-58 178 in the Everyman edition. There J. S. Mill first insists: not that society should treat all equally well, period; but "that society should treat all equally well who have deserved equally well of it." He continues: "This is the highest abstract standard of social and distributive justice; towards which all institutions, and the efforts of all virtuous citizens, should be made in the utmost possible degree to converge." Mill himself says nothing here, or perhaps anywhere, to explain what the adjective is supposed to be doing. It seems to have been a favourite, which he was the first to preface, with equally little particular reason given, to several other nouns. So if, as seems most likely, it is intended to be no more than a superfluous synonym for 'distributive,' then it becomes important for us to notice that to Mill, as to so many of his successors, the scope of "social and distributive justice" is universal: it is what determines who is the rightful possessor of any good whatever. Thus, in contemporary courts of distributive justice, everything is up for grabs. Yet it was not ever thus, and we ought to demand reason why it should have become so. Aristotle in the Nicomachean Ethics, was, so far as we know, the first philosopher to distinguish distributive from corrective justice. He ruled that the former "is exercized in distributions of honour or wealth or of anything else which is to be divided among those who have a share in the constitution; since in these it is possible for one to have an allocation either equal or unequal to that of another" (1130B30-4). A generation dazed by the drum-beat rhetoric of equality and social justice will no doubt be 179 inclined to construe these words as making the very modern assumption that there has been an active and collective distribution of all goods, and ought now to be an active and collective redistribution. Yet such anachronistic assumptions are ruled out as Aristotle proceeds: first, to entertain the oligarchic suggestion that the relevant criterion of entitlement might be the possession of wealth; and then to conclude that this "Justice in distributing common property... when a distribution is made from the common stock... will follow the same ratio as that between the amounts which the several persons have contributed to the common stock" (1131A 25-9 and 1131B 28-33). The common... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:46. HUME AND THE FUTURE OF THE SOCIETY OF NATIONS In the section of Hume's Treatise of Human Nature entitled Of the laws of nations (Section XI of Book III) he says: Political writers tell us, that in every kind of intercourse, a body politic is to be consider 'd as one person; and indeed this assertion is so far just, that different nations, as well as private persons, (...) require mutual assistance; at the same time that their selfishness and ambition are perpetual sources of war and discord.But tho' nations in this particular resemble individuals, yet as they are very different in other respects, no wonder they regulate themselves by different maxims, and give rise to a new set of rules, which we call the laws of nations. 1 He goes on to give examples of such laws:the sacredness of the persons of ambassadors, the declaration of war, the abstaining from poison'd arms, with other duties of that kind, which are evidently calculated for the commerce, that is peculiar to different.societies. (T 567) Hume then tells us in the next paragraph that such laws of nations may be added to the three laws of nature (that possessions should be stable, that possessions should be transferable by consent, and that promises or contracts should be kept) but that these laws of nations do not supersede the laws of nature; that is, they do not make the laws of nature irrelevant to relations among nation-states. In fact, the morality among nation-states involves the same kinds of obligations as morality among private persons, but the obligations are not as binding. The obligations of nation-states to each other can more readily be overridden by concerns of self-interest than would be legitimate in the case of private persons because nation-states are more nearly able to maintain themselves without external assistance than are individual persons. In Hume's words,... tho' the 47. morality of princes has the same extent, yet it has not the same force as that of private persons (T 558) because tho' the intercourse of different states be advantageous, and even sometimes necessary, yet it is not so necessary nor advantageous as that among individuals, without which 'tis utterly impossible for human nature ever to subsist. (T 569) In the last paragraph of this section Hume addresses himself to the question of the proportion these two species of morality bear to each other. (T 569) He says that we can never give any precise answer (T 569) and that the proper proportion is exhibited in the actual practice of the world. He takes this fact as showing that all men recognize that the rules of morality, both among private individuals and among nation-states, arise from human conventions, and from the interest, which we have in the preservation of peace and order. (T 569) When discussing the same issue in his Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals Hume is more succinct. The observance of justice, though useful among them [nations], is not guarded by so strong a necessity as among individuals; and the moral obligation holds proportion with the usefulness. 2 """ The moral obligations of individuals to each other is thus greater than that of nations to each other because keeping the rules of justice is inore useful in the former case than in the latter. But Hume did not live in an age of atomic weapons, long-range missiles, and precision-guided munitions. Furthermore, the nations of the world are now much more interdependent than in his day, not only with regard to where they get the resources they need but also with regard to what they do with their wastes. There seems to be little roo.? _or dtubt that the utility of following the rules of justice among nations is much greater now than it was in the eighteenth 48. century. Since a nuclear war might mean the end of the human species, the utility of justice among nations seems to be approaching, perhaps even surpassing, the utility which moral rules have at the level of private persons. In view of this changed situation, I intend to review what Hume has... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XXIII, Number 1, April 1997, pp. 133-152 Hume and the 1763 Edition of His History of England: His Frame of Mind as a Revisionist FREDERIC L. VAN HOLTHOON A Quotation, and Three Questions I suppose you will not find one book in the English Language of that Size and Price so ill printed, and now since the publication of the Quarto, however small the sale of (...) the Quarto may be, it shows, by its corrections and additions, the Imperfection of the 8vo so visibly, that it must be totally discredited. (HL II 228)1 Question 1. Hume was referring to the 1763 octavo edition of his History of England. It was the first complete edition of the History to be published as a set. Why did he consider it such an "abominable" edition as he calls it in another letter? (HL II 457) Question 2. The quotation given above also makes clear that the 1770 quarto edition was much better in his judgment. Better in what respect? Question 3. Hume's verdict on the 1763 edition also involves a judgment on two other editions, a quarto and an octavo edition of 1767. Both of them are "title editions" in a way I shall explain. Yet these editions contain a cancel in the part dealing with the reign of Charles II which brought forth Hume's only documentary discovery: the secret provisions of the treaty of Dover. What did Hume think of the importance of these cancels relative to the sum total of his revisions? Frederic L. van Holthoon is at the Department of Interdisciplinary Studies, University of Groningen, Groningen, 9700 AS Netherlands, email: [email protected] 134 Frederic L. Van Holthoon In answering these three questions I will allow myself one digression. In a short compass I will provide an overall view of Hume's revisionary effort concerning all editions which were published between 1754 and 1778. This description together with the three answers will give us a clue to Hume's frame of mind as a revisionist. What were his motives for changing his text throughout the editions which appeared during his lifetime and shortly thereafter? Hume and the 1763 Edition of His History of England In October 1766 Hume wrote Andrew Millar, his publisher: I shall endeavour to render the next Edition of my History as correct as possible; tho' I do not expect to see it necessary for several Years. (HL II 105-106) What Hume probably did not know was that Strahan, Millar's printer, had already printed the title pages for a quarto and octavo "edition."2 The term "edition" should be put between quotation marks for the octavo edition was made with the old sheets of the 1763 edition and the quarto set was a rejuvenation of volumes printed in 1762. And we don't know what Millar had in mind while writing to Hume on November 2,1766 that he deplored the fact that he had printed so many octavos in 1763, otherwise Hume "might have had more frequent opportunity of correction."3 Did Hume know about these "upgraded" editions or was Millar less than honest? The correspondence between Millar and Hume reveals a tug of war between the publisher who wanted Hume to continue his History and the author who was very hesitant on this point, but who otherwise was keen on having the opportunity of a new edition for the purpose of correcting his text. So Millar wrote in November 1764 that 2,000 copies of the 1763 edition had already been sold and added, "Sure this is full encouragement for you to go on" (HL II 354). When Hume discovered that he had been deceived and that either Millar had ordered more copies or had been able to sell less than he told Hume, he was mortified. Even Strahan, who became Hume's friend, saw no way to pacify him. Writing to Strahan, Hume declared that he hoped that the new edition (the octavo edition of 1773) would take away the discredit caused "by that abominable Edition, which has given you and me so much Vexation, and has been one Cause why I have thrown... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:160 THE HUMEAN PROMISE: WHENCE COMES ITS OBLIGATION? Introduction David Hume offers an extended analysis of promising, and his observations and conclusions reflect a remarkable insight into the nature and origins of promising and promissory obligation. Hume argues that promising is naturally unintelligible and could only arise via an artifice; that this artifice arises because each person sees his or her mutual advantage in it; and that afterwards a (...) sentiment of morals concurs with interest and becomes a new obligation upon mankind. How, for Hume, do promises obligate, and how are we to understand this new obligation? I shall argue that for Hume the obligations of promising are two: the natural obligation to accept and participate in the artifice itself — this obligation arises from a natural inclination to approve of those artifices which we see as necessary for our survival — and the artificial obligation to faithfully execute a particular service or transaction of property in the future as expressed by the words? promise'. I shall begin with some explanatory remarks on Hume's views of human nature and the artifices which this nature produces, some of which bear directly on our understanding of Hume's treatment of promissory obligation. Background Hume's view of mankind is that it is a selfcorrective species, relying heavily on its penchant for imagination, and that without these traits, particularly imagination, it would be, without doubt, an extinct species. Much of the Treatise is a naturalistic account of human nature: a nature which includes not only instincts and passions, but the 161 ability to transcend and control them with artificial conventions when they become counterproductive and disadvantageous to society; although even these artificial conventions or artifices must be approved by their users and, to this extent, are a natural outcome. "We readily forget," Hume states, "that the designs, and projects, and views of men are principles as necessary in their operation as heat and cold, moist and dry." (T 474) Hume attaches no necessity to the particular form human nature has taken nor to the environment in which it is placed. His aim is to give a naturalistic account of the way things are, both socially and psychologically. Hume uses the word 'natural' in one place to mean what is common to any species, or what is inseparable from the species, and this includes for him the artifices of mankind. (T 484) Unlike Hobbes, he optimistically describes human nature as a combination of self-interest and benevolence, and "...tho' it be rare to meet with one, who loves any single person better than himself; yet 'tis as rare to meet with one, in whom all the kind affections, taken together, do not over-balance all the selfish." (T 487) The natural virtues originate from our kind affections and have no dependence on the contrivance 2 or artifice of man (T 574) nor on the contrivance of a deity. What makes meekness, beneficence, charity, generosity and equity virtuous is simply man's natural approval of them: "virtue is distinguished by the pleasure, and vice by the pain, that any action, sentiment or character gives us by the mere view and contemplation." (T 475) Hume's natural virtues are selected from natural motives which are of the spontaneous instinctive sort. Although Hume believes that selfishness is an overemphasized human trait, he does say that each man 162 (and probably woman) loves himself (herself) better than any other single person. (T 487) This selfishness, however, is not exclusively selfcentered, but manifests itself in a "confined generosity" that moves outward concentrically from the interested self to his or her family and friends. Beyond this circle of friends we are generally distrustful of others and will naturally revert to our individual self-interest when interacting with them. The one trait of which Hume makes great use throughout the Treatise to explain and describe human behavior is imagination. The word 'imagination' has many meanings, three of which are alluded to by Hume. Imagination may take a material or practical shape in the form of an invention, whereby someone imagines some object and then invents it. Examples of imagination qua inventiveness include actual physical inventions and may include the Humean artifices. Imagination... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:17. HUME AND ABSTRACT GENERAL IDEAS In his discussion of abstract ideas in the Treatise, Hume offers what "...may... be thought... a plain dilemma, that decides concerning the nature of those abstract ideas..." He states the dilemma in these words: The abstract idea of a man represents men of all sizes and all qualities; which 'tis concluded it cannot do, but either by representing at once all possible sizes (...) and all possible qualities, or by representing no particular one at all. Now it having been esteemed absurd to defend the former proposition, as implying an infinite capacity in the mind, it has been commonly infer'd in favour of the latter; and our abstract ideas have been suppos'd to represent no particular degree either of quality or quantity. (T, 1,1,7,?.18) However, with respect to this dilemma, Hume says: But that this inference is erroneous, I shall endeavor to make appear, first, by proving, that 'tis utterly impossible to conceive any quantity or quality, without forming a precise notion of its degrees: And secondly by showing, that tho' the capacity of the mind be not infinite, yet we can at once form a notion of all possible degrees of quantity and quality, in such a manner at least, as, however imperfect, may serve all the purposes of reflexion and conversation. (T, 1,1,7, p. 18) The second item Hume claims he is about to prove is aimed at the first disjunct of the above-stated dilemma; more specifically, it is aimed at the claim that (1) An abstract idea (e.g., of a man) represents all possible degrees of quantity and quality (in men) only if the human mind is infinite in capacity. To show that (1) is false, Hume offers his own positive account of how ideas which are particular in nature may nevertheless be general in representation, even though the mind's capacity is finite. The first item Hume sets out to prove is aimed at the second disjunct, and conclusion, of the dilemma; it is aimed, that is, at 18. (2)Abstract ideas represent no particular degree of either quantity or quality. In this paper I will be concerned solely with Hume's attack on (2); it is this attack in which Hume says I "place my chief confidence." (T, I, I, 7, p. 24) I_ As stated, (2) is ambiguous, since it might be taken to mean that abstract ideas fail to represent altogether, or that they fail to represent any quantity or quality however construed. But, I believe, Hume means neither of these; he means, instead, that (2a) Abstract ideas represent non-particular, indeterminate degrees of quantity or quality. Now recall that Hume tries to refute (2a) by establishing, as he says, that (3)It is impossible to conceive any quantity or quality without forming a precise notion of its degrees. But how, by establishing (3), would Hume thereby refute or aid in the refutation of (2a)? And, for that matter, how does he support (3)? Hume's case for (3) consists of three arguments, the respective conclusions of which are most pertinent here. He concludes his first argument by saying that (4)...the general idea of a line...has in its appearance in the mind a precise degree of quantity and quality. (T, 1,1,7, p. 19) The conclusion of the second argument is this : (5)An idea is a weaker impression; and as a strong impression must necessarily have a determinate quantity and quality, the case must be the same with its copy or representative.(T, 1,1,7, p. 19) 19. and of the third it is this: (6)Abstract ideas are therefore in themselves individual, however they may become general in their representation. The image in the mind is only that of a particular object, tho' the application of it in our reasoning be the same, as if it were universal.(T, 1,1,7, p. 20) Construed in a fully general way, these conclusions assert that (7)Each idea is determinate with respect to öegree of) quantity and quality. But notice that (7) is not equivalent to, and does not obviously imply, (3). Hence, Hume... (shrink)

The Interrogatory of the year 1755 is the document which had to carry out the city of Lorca to elaborate the "Catastro de la Ensenada". lt has been possible to know, through it, the productive structure of a rural, gremial and conservative country where the political powder was kept by the oligarchy. In this paper we have studied the division and use of the land, its production, yields, prices and taxes as well as the manufacturing, comercial and industrial activities. Also, (...) this paper allow us tho know the distribution of the employed people and their rentallevel, and also show the way in which the burocracy gives to this rural country sorne urban character. We have tried to carry out an approach to a pre-industrial society of the "Old Regimen" which has an important density of population and where the guilds gave to this society gremial character. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:THE GOD OF LOVE * KENNETH L. SCHMITZ John Paul II Institute Washington, D.C. GOD WITHOUT BEING introduces English readers to a body of work by the French philosopher, Jean-Luc Marion. It has caused no little stir among French philosophers and theologians. For it is a remarkable book, frequently brilliant, sometimes dazzling, often original, more often still, troubling. Troubling, not so much by its conclusions as by the means (...) used to arrive at them, and the implications suggested by those means. The book begins with phenomenology, passes on to ontology in the Heideggerian vein, and culminates in a theology of agapic love. I almost wrote that it passes through Heideggerian ontology to agape, but that is what is most troubling about the book. One puts it down wondering, despite critical reassurances from the author, whether the analysis has ever freed itself from the shaping hand of Heideggerian ontology, or has done so at too high a cost. It is not that the author accepts Heidegger; indeed his critical exegesis is perhaps the most brilliant part of a very striking book. But nonetheless, Heidegger's stamp is so heavy upon the analysis, his presuppositions so ingrained in it, that the conclusions themselves, while expressly "beyond" Heidegger, nevertheless trail his ontology in their train. In a preface written nearly ten years after the French book first appeared, Marion reassures his English readers (perhaps with a touch of unintended condescension) that God exists. In- *Jean-Luc Marion, God Without Being. Hors-Texte, tr. by Thos. A. Carlson. \Vith a foreword by David Tracy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991; being a translation of Dieu sans l'etre: Hors-Texte, Librairie Artheme Fayard, 1982. 495 496 KENNETH L. SCHMITZ deed, his argument is meant to tell against any ordinary atheism, and his exposition of the Eucharist glows with Catholic piety. There can be no doubt, too, that his exegesis often opens up surprising senses of the Biblical texts, such as those of the Wisdom literature in the Old Testament and the letters of St. Paul in the New. The first chapter carries out a phenomenology of the difference between the idol and the icon. The idol is not false or illusory in any ordinary sense. On the contrary, its luminescence is an actual reflection of the divine. The fulguration catches the human eye, mind and spirit as it gazes at the embodied manifestation in wonder. But, instead of letting the fulguration measure the import of the disclosure, the gaze stops at the luminous idol and freezes the divine light within the scope of the worshipper's merely human gaze, interest and aim. The aim, then, provides the measure and meaning of the light, referring it back to the human intention. And so the idol divides the fulguration, retaining for the gaze what is so extraordinarily visible, while it lets go what is unattainable through its effort and on its own terms. Marion expresses this remainder by the neologism: invisable, from viser: to aim. We have here an initial insistence upon the inability to reduce God to a concept. The analysis exposes the logic of a first level of idolatry, idolatry which takes form as the regionalization of the divine. Thus, to choose a portentous example, Nietzsche unmasks the regional " God of morality" proclaimed by Kant and other modern thinkers. It is quite the reverse with the icon. The luminosity of the icon presents its visage to the believer who receives it as the face that endows the visible with the inexhaustible invisibility of God. It is of signal importance to Marion's thesis, however, that the invisible is not thereby offered to human sight or conception, but rather that the visible features of the icon ask to be transgressed, giving way-neither to the sight of sense or mind-but to veneration ( 19). For the iconic intention is not determined by any human gaze, but rather by the mysterious initiative of the true revealing God. Whereas the idol shines with a radiance bor- THE GOD OF LOVE 497 rowed from the divine but confined within the limits of the human gaze, the icon glows with an alien glance that stems from its divine... (shrink)

This study takes as its point of departure a question posed by Francis Hutcheson in An Inquiry into the Original of Our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue, an important text of the Scottish Enlightenment. Hutcheson asked: “Whence arises this Love of Esteem, or Benevolence, to good Men, or to Mankind in general, if not from some nice Views of Self-Interest?” . As will be well known to readers of this journal, Hutcheson in his answer pointed to the workings of a (...) “moral sense,” arguing: “The Universality of this moral Sense, and that it is antecedent to Instruction, may appear from observing the Sentiments of Children, upon hearing the Storys with which they are commonly entertain’d as soon as they understand Language. They always passionately interest themselves on that side where Kindness and Humanity are found; and detest the Cruel, the Covetous, the Selfish, or the Treacherous. How strongly do we see their Passions of Joy, Sorrow, Love, and Indignation, mov’d by these moral Representations, even tho there has been no pains taken to give them Ideas of a Deity, of Laws, of a future State, or of the more intricate Tendency of the universal Good to that of each Individual!”. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Religion a Threat to Morality: An Attempt to Throw Some New Light on Hume's Philosophy of Religion* Gerhard Streminger At the beginning ofhis Natural History ofReligion Hume writes that two questions in particular... challenge our attention, to wit, that concerning its foundation in reason, and that concerning its origin in human nature. The first challenge is taken up by Hume in the Dialogues ConcerningNatural Religion, and the second in (...) hisNatural History ofReligion. In this paper I will try to show that there is a third fundamental problem discussed by Hume with regard to religion, namely its relationship to and influence on morality. Although he never wrote on this topic in as systematic a way as on the above-mentioned two questions inparticular, I am convinced that his thoughts about it were not just casual. The passages in Hume relevant to this third central question about religion are to be found in "Of Superstition and Enthusiasm," in Essays Moral, Political, and Literary; in section 11 ofAn Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding; in Appendix 4 and "A Dialogue," in An Enquiry Concerning the Principles ofMorals; in the History ofEngland; in Part XII of the Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion ; and, in particular, in the Natural History ofReligion. Why Hume never wrote about the relationship between religion and morality in a more systematic way is not entirely clear. He may have decided not to provoke the orthodox any further than he already had. That Hume changed the title ofsection 11 ofhis first Enquiry from the original "Of the Practical Consequences of Natural Religion" to the rather non-committal "Of a Particular Providence and of a Future State" may support this conjecture. Before going into more detail as to Hume's view on the relationship between religion and morality, I want to make a few remarks about Hume's opinion of religion in general. Hume made a distinction between one 'true' and two forms of 'false' religion. His most explicit description of true religion is to be found in a preface to the second volume of his History ofEngland: Volume XV Number 2 277 GERHARD STREMINGER Theproper Office ofReligion, Hume wrote in terms which have a Quakerish flavour, is to reform Men's Lives, to purify their Hearts, to inforce all moralDuties, & to secure Obedience to the Laws & civil Magistrate. While it pursues these useful Purposes, its Operations, tho' infinitely valuable, are secret & silent; andseldom come under the Cognizance ofHistory... The Idea ofan Infinite Mind, the Author ofthe Universe seems... to require a Worship absolutely pure, simple, unadorned; without Rites, Institutions, Ceremonies; even without Temples, Priests, or verbal Prayer & Supplication. This preface, however, was not printed in the words quoted above. Instead it was reduced by Hume to a footnote at the end of the second volume of his History of England in a shortened and toned-down version. Even this footnote was removed in later editions ofthe History ofEngland. But in the Dialogues Hume repeated his idea of the effect of true religion on morality almost verbatim: The proper office of religion is to regulate the heart of men, humanize their conduct, infuse the spirit oftemperance, order, and obedience; and as its operation is silent, and only enforces the motives of mortality and justice, it is in danger of being overlooked, and confounded with these other motives. This form ofreligion, however, although without anypernicious consequences with regard to society (D 223), is extremely rare. Religion, as it has commonly been found in the world (D 223), is a threat to morality. The corruptions of true religion, namely superstition and enthusiasm, are the popular forms of religious worship. Whenever Hume talks about religion without qualifications, he has this false religion in mind. Coming back to my original thesis, Hume, I think, sees three main negative influences of false religion: (1) The clergy has an interest in setting bounds to human knowledge; (2) The God offalse religion is no moral authority; (3) False religion corrupts the natural moral sentiments and promotes an 'artificial, affected' life. I. False Religion and Human Knowledge To see the force of Hume's argument concerning the threat of false religion to morality, one has to take into account some general assumptions of Hume... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Religion a Threat to Morality: An Attempt to Throw Some New Light on Hume's Philosophy of Religion* Gerhard Streminger At the beginning ofhis Natural History ofReligion Hume writes that two questions in particular... challenge our attention, to wit, that concerning its foundation in reason, and that concerning its origin in human nature. The first challenge is taken up by Hume in the Dialogues ConcerningNatural Religion, and the second in (...) hisNatural History ofReligion. In this paper I will try to show that there is a third fundamental problem discussed by Hume with regard to religion, namely its relationship to and influence on morality. Although he never wrote on this topic in as systematic a way as on the above-mentioned two questions inparticular, I am convinced that his thoughts about it were not just casual. The passages in Hume relevant to this third central question about religion are to be found in "Of Superstition and Enthusiasm," in Essays Moral, Political, and Literary; in section 11 ofAn Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding; in Appendix 4 and "A Dialogue," in An Enquiry Concerning the Principles ofMorals; in the History ofEngland; in Part XII of the Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion ; and, in particular, in the Natural History ofReligion. Why Hume never wrote about the relationship between religion and morality in a more systematic way is not entirely clear. He may have decided not to provoke the orthodox any further than he already had. That Hume changed the title ofsection 11 ofhis first Enquiry from the original "Of the Practical Consequences of Natural Religion" to the rather non-committal "Of a Particular Providence and of a Future State" may support this conjecture. Before going into more detail as to Hume's view on the relationship between religion and morality, I want to make a few remarks about Hume's opinion of religion in general. Hume made a distinction between one 'true' and two forms of 'false' religion. His most explicit description of true religion is to be found in a preface to the second volume of his History ofEngland: Volume XV Number 2 277 GERHARD STREMINGER Theproper Office ofReligion, Hume wrote in terms which have a Quakerish flavour, is to reform Men's Lives, to purify their Hearts, to inforce all moralDuties, & to secure Obedience to the Laws & civil Magistrate. While it pursues these useful Purposes, its Operations, tho' infinitely valuable, are secret & silent; andseldom come under the Cognizance ofHistory... The Idea ofan Infinite Mind, the Author ofthe Universe seems... to require a Worship absolutely pure, simple, unadorned; without Rites, Institutions, Ceremonies; even without Temples, Priests, or verbal Prayer & Supplication. This preface, however, was not printed in the words quoted above. Instead it was reduced by Hume to a footnote at the end of the second volume of his History of England in a shortened and toned-down version. Even this footnote was removed in later editions ofthe History ofEngland. But in the Dialogues Hume repeated his idea of the effect of true religion on morality almost verbatim: The proper office of religion is to regulate the heart of men, humanize their conduct, infuse the spirit oftemperance, order, and obedience; and as its operation is silent, and only enforces the motives of mortality and justice, it is in danger of being overlooked, and confounded with these other motives. This form ofreligion, however, although without anypernicious consequences with regard to society (D 223), is extremely rare. Religion, as it has commonly been found in the world (D 223), is a threat to morality. The corruptions of true religion, namely superstition and enthusiasm, are the popular forms of religious worship. Whenever Hume talks about religion without qualifications, he has this false religion in mind. Coming back to my original thesis, Hume, I think, sees three main negative influences of false religion: (1) The clergy has an interest in setting bounds to human knowledge; (2) The God offalse religion is no moral authority; (3) False religion corrupts the natural moral sentiments and promotes an 'artificial, affected' life. I. False Religion and Human Knowledge To see the force of Hume's argument concerning the threat of false religion to morality, one has to take into account some general assumptions of Hume... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Ippolito Desideri S.J.: Opere e BibliografiaFrancis V. TisoIppolito Desideri S.J.: Opere e Bibliografia. By Enzo Gualterio Bargiacchi. Roma: Institutum Historicum S.I., 2007. 303 pp.One of the great lacunae in the history of Buddhist-Christian relations has been a lack of attention to the work of missionaries who reported on Buddhist belief and practice in various parts of East and South Asia. As a result, the important work [End Page (...) 166] of the Italian Jesuit Ippolito Desideri (1684–1733) has not received the attention it deserves. There had been centuries of missionary contact with the Buddhists of Sri Lanka, Japan, and China, but it was not until the mission of Desideri to Tibet (1716–1721) that the connection between the Buddhism of Southeast Asia and that of China and Japan could be established on the basis of Desideri’s study of Tibetan historiographical materials.Desideri was the first European to become fluent in Tibetan, the first to understand Buddhist Mahayana scholasticism, the first to grasp the meaning of Vajrayana ritual and practice, the first to describe the political situation of Tibet, the first to engage in serious debate with Tibetan lamas, and the first to write extensively on Catholic Christianity in Tibetan. Desideri left a body of works in Tibetan that have been translated into Italian by Giuseppe Toscano, SX, and published by IsMEO during the 1980s. Yet Desideri’s greatest achievement, the translation into Latin of Je Tsong Kapa’s Lam Rim Chen Mo, seems to have been lost. Moreover, the great intellectual and spiritual accomplishments of this Jesuit missionary were not much appreciated in his own lifetime, in part because of the political situation of the Society of Jesus at that time. As a result, although the overall facts of Desideri’s life were never completely forgotten, his writings lay hidden in the Jesuit Archives at Rome at precisely the time when those engaging in contact with Asian religions would have benefited from his insights.The author of this summary of the works of Ippolito Desideri and of the entire corpus of materials related to his oeuvre, Enzo Gualtiero Bargiacchi, is convinced that even today the works of this eighteenth-century Jesuit missionary have something to offer. I would agree with Bargiacchi, because I am equally convinced that the Desiderian project is in many ways a better model for interreligious dialogue between Christians and Buddhists than any of the more recent models that have been proposed and implemented since the Second Vatican Council. Recent essays by Trent Pomplun and Michael Sweet in Buddhist-Christian Studies (vol. 26, 2006) have shown that exchanges between missionaries and Buddhists in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were more profound and more fruitful than we are inclined to believe on the basis of superficial histories of the period. It seems that, with the suppression of the Jesuits (1773–1815), a certain retrenchment in the Catholic theology of grace operating outside the confines of the Church set in, muting the vibrant speculations of theologians seeking to make theological sense of the reports of missionaries such as Desideri.Desideri’s approach to the Buddhism of Tibet continues to challenge our own approach to interreligious dialogue. In the first place, Desideri underwent extensive linguistic, spiritual, and theological training as a young Italian Jesuit. He seems to have had unusual physical stamina and mental acuity, particularly for the study of languages. He learned Tibetan in about four months and immediately began writing a treatise, the Tho rangs, explaining Christianity to the Tibetan literati. As his Tibetan improved, he composed other, more sophisticated works in which he took up the topics on which Buddhists and Catholic Christians could agree (the contingency of the created world, the moral law) and on which they disagree (the law of karmic retribution, [End Page 167] emptiness, reincarnation, soteriology). Desideri sought to take seriously the philosophical positions of the lamas, with whom he lived and engaged in debate. He adapted his presentation of Christianity to the linguistic requirements of Tibet, and he did not hesitate to acknowledge the excellence he found in the moral character and intellectual refinement of the Tibetans. Finally, one detects a respect... (shrink)

The theme of the 6th biennial Radical Philosophy Association Conference, held at Howard University in Washington, D.C. in November 2004, was "Philosophy Against Empire." The U.S. imperial project, pursued by both Republican and Democratic administrations, has many dimensions, including military force and the mechanisms for its legitimation; the global economy and flows of money and people across borders; and biopolitics, or the disciplining of bodies through the micro-mechanisms of power apart from traditional forms of sovereignty. These issues are explored in (...) depth in these collected and revised essays from the Conference, along with the forms of subjectivity that can resist and respond to the alienation produced within and by the imperial project, toward the creation of an alternative global order. Authors include Karsten Struhl, Ann Ferguson, Edmund Byrne, David Cormier, Harry Targ, Jo-Ann Pilardi, Lucinda Joy Peach, Devin Zane Shaw, Tzuchien Tho, Eduardo Mendieta, Richard Schmitt, Richard Jones, Richard Peterson, Peter Amato, William McBride, Omar Dahbour, Kory Schaff, David Schweickart, and Carol Gould. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume's Missing Shade of Blue Re-viewed John 0. Nelson It is obviously important for Hume's purposes in the Treatise to maintain that simple ideas are always founded in precedent, resembling impressions;1 andhe explicitly, overandover, doesso, evensometimes being so carried away by this first principle ofhis science of man (T 7) or so careless as to say that not just all simple ideas but all ideas are founded in precedent, (...) resembling impressions. At the same time, as often noted, Hume explicitly maintains that it is possible for there to be a simple idea having no precedent, corresponding impression. He argues: There is however one contradictory phaenomenon, which may prove, that 'tis not absolutely impossible for ideas to go before their correspondent impressions... Suppose... a person to have enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and to have become perfectly well acquainted with colours of all kinds, excepting one particular shade of blue... Let all the different shades of that colour, except that single one, beplac'd before him... Now Iask, whether 'tis possible for him, from his own imagination, to supply this deficiency, and raise up to himselfthe idea ofthat particular shade, tho' it had never been conveyed to him by his senses? I believe there arefew but will be ofopinion that he can; and this may serve as a proof, that the simple ideas are not always derived from the correspondent impressions. (T 5) Nowjust prior to this concession (as Cummins calls it ), Hume has said that the full examination ofthis question [the causal relationship between ideas and impression] is the subject of the present treatise; and therefore we shall here content ourselves with establishing one general proposition, That all our simple ideas in their first appearance are deriv'd from simple impressions, which are correspondent to them, and which they exactly represent. (T 4) Volume XV Number 2 353 JOHN O. NELSON And just after the same concession, that a simple idea may be raised up which does not have a prior, correspondent impression, Hume says that it still remains true, that all our simple ideas proceed either mediately or immediately, from their correspondent impressions (T 7). Thus we have Hume explicitly asserting, it seems, both that all simple ideas have precedent correspondent impressions and that they do not. But this, on the face ofit, is an arrant contradiction! Can Hume have Homerically nodded? We have been quoting from the Treatise, but Hume makes the very same contradictory-seeming claims in the Enquiryl A thinker of Hume's acumen might nod for a page or two's quarter hour but not for all of nine years! Moreover, in both places Hume refers to the phenomenon of the impression-less idea ofblue as a contradictory phenomenon, indicating clearly enough that he was himself aware of there seeming to be an inconsistency here in his contentions. What can possibly be going on? Is Hume deliberately being paradoxical? Perhaps trying, for sensation's sake, to shock the reader and so increase sales of his work, as some commentators in the past might have wished to say? But this would be at the expense ofhis own contentions and principles and not the reader's, and not even Hume's bitterest foes and most malicious critics — so far as I know — have ever proposed that Hume would, figuratively speaking, like Oedipus, gouge out his own eyes, even in order to increase sales of the Treatise, nor does it make the slightest sense to think he would. The mystery deepens when we remember that Hume has said, in defining the program of the Treatise, that his intention is to establish the one general proposition that all our simple ideas in their first appearance are deriv'd from simple impressions, which are correspondentto them (T4). What astrange way, we want to exclaim, to show that all our simple ideas are derived from correspondent simple impressions by almost immediately afterwards arguing that it is possible to have an idea that has had no correspondent, precedent impression! Such an egregious nonsequitur mightbe expected ofan absolutely incompetent beginner in philosophy, but we are speaking of David Hume, generally recognized as the profoundest and most acute of... (shrink)

This study takes as its point of departure a question posed by Francis Hutcheson in An Inquiry into the Original of Our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue, an important text of the Scottish Enlightenment. Hutcheson asked: “Whence arises this Love of Esteem, or Benevolence, to good Men, or to Mankind in general, if not from some nice Views of Self-Interest?”. As will be well known to readers of this journal, Hutcheson in his answer pointed to the workings of a “moral (...) sense,” arguing: “The Universality of this moral Sense, and that it is antecedent to Instruction, may appear from observing the Sentiments of Children, upon hearing the Storys with which they are commonly entertain’d as soon as they understand Language. They always passionately interest themselves on that side where Kindness and Humanity are found; and detest the Cruel, the Covetous, the Selfish, or the Treacherous. How strongly do we see their Passions of Joy, Sorrow, Love, and Indignation, mov’d by these moral Representations, even tho there has been no pains taken to give them Ideas of a Deity, of Laws, of a future State, or of the more intricate Tendency of the universal Good to that of each Individual!”. (shrink)

tập 1. Trung Hoa, thời kỳ khởi điểm của triết học (thời đại Tây Chu và Đông Chu) --tạp 2. Trung Hoa, thời kỳ hoàn thành của triết học (từ Chiến Quốc đến tiền Hán) -- tập 3. Ấn Độ, Từ Phật Đà tới Phật nguyên thủy -- tập 4. Từ năm 241 trước công nguyên đến năm 907 sau công nguyên -- tập 5. Triết học Trung Hoa cận đại.

On Tibetan Buddhist doctrines and philosophy according to Sa-skya-pa tradition.

This article addresses the problem of automatically extracting legal indices which express the important contents of legal documents. Legal indices are not limited to single-word keywords and compound-word keywords, they are also clause keywords. We approach index extraction using structural information of Japanese sentences, i.e. chunks and clauses. Based on the assumption that legal indices are composed of important tokens from the documents, extracting legal indices is treated as a problem of collecting chunks and clauses that contain as many important (...) tokens as possible. Each token is assigned a weight which is a statistical score, e.g. TF–IDF and Okapi BM25, to indicate its importance. The importance of a chunk or clause is determined based on the average weight of tokens included in that chunk or clause. Then, highly weighted chunks and clauses are recognized as the indices for legal documents. The experimental results on Japanese National Pension Act data show that our proposed method achieves better performance than TextRank, the most popular unsupervised method in extracting single-word and compound-word keywords. In addition, this approach is also applicable to extract clause keywords with high performance. (shrink)