pernicious or a vice generally
beneficial.'[573] Hume, however, overlooks the 'rightful supremacy of
the moral faculty over every other principle of human action.'
Mackintosh thought that his best service, as he told Macvey
Napier,[574] had been his 'endeavour to slip in a foundation under
Butler's doctrine of the supremacy of the conscience, which he left
baseless.' To slip in a foundation is a very delicate operation in
logical as in material architecture; and the new foundation seems here
to be in danger of inverting the edifice. The 'supremacy of
conscience'[575] means with him that the 'moral sentiments' form a
separate class. They are the feelings with which we contemplate
voluntary actions in general, and therefore those aroused by the
character and conduct of the agent. Mackintosh thus takes an aesthetic
view of morality. We have a 'moral taste' or perception of beauty. The
same qualities which make a horse beautiful make him also swift and
safe, but we perceive the beauty without thinking of the utility, or
rather when we do not think of it. So we admire a hero or martyr for
the beauty of his character without reference to his services to
us.[576] This moral taste, though not identical with the conscience,
becomes 'absorbed into it.' The conscience differs from the 'moral
taste' because it acts upon the will. But its supremacy seems to be
this quality which it shares with or derives from the taste--its
immediate and spontaneous operation. It is, he seems to mean, a direct
perception of beauty in character applied to the regulation of
conduct. Virtue corresponds to an instinctive and so far ultimate
appreciation of beauty of character. Mackintosh insists upon this
intrinsic charm of virtue in the language which struck Mill as simply
foppish affectation. The pleasure of 'benevolence' itself, says
Mackintosh, is infinitely superior to the pleasures to which it may
lead. Could it become 'lasting and intense,' it would convert the
heart into a heaven.[577] To love virtue, you must love it 'for its
own sake.'[578] The delights of being virtuous (as he interprets the
phrase) are greater than any delight from the consequences of virtue.
And he holds up as a model Fletcher of Saltoun, who would 'lose his
life to serve his country, but would not do a base thing to save
it.'[579]

How, then, is this view to be reconciled with the unreserved admission
of 'utility' as the 'criterion' of right and wrong? One answer is that