1. Virtue and Vice.  Morality is not natural to man; it is the invention of wise men, who have endeavoured to infuse the belief, that it is best for everybody to prefer the public interest to their own.  As, however, they could bestow no real recompense for the thwarting of self-interest, they contrived an imaginary one—­honour.  Upon this they proceeded to divide men into two classes, the one abject and base, incapable of self-denial; the other noble, because they suppressed their passions, and acted for the public welfare.  Man was thus won to virtue, not by force, but by flattery.

In regard to praiseworthiness, Shaftesbury, according to Mandeville, was the first to affirm that virtue could exist without self-denial.  This was opposed to the prevailing opinion, and to the view taken up and criticised by Mandeville.  His own belief was different.  ’It is not in feeling the passions, or in being affected with the frailties of nature, that vice consists; but in indulging and obeying the call of them, contrary to the dictates of reason.’

2. Self-love.  ’It is an admirable saying of a worthy divine, that though many discoveries have been made in the world of self-love, there is yet abundance of terra incognita left behind.’  There is nothing so sincere upon earth as the love that creatures bear to themselves.  ’Man centres everything in himself, and neither loves nor hates, but for his own sake.’  Nay, more, we are naturally regardless of the effect of our conduct upon others; we have no innate love for our fellows.  The highest virtue is not without reward; it has a satisfaction of its own, the pleasure of contemplating one’s own worth.  But is there no genuine self-denial?  Mandeville answers by a distinction:  mortifying one passion to gratify another is very common, but this not self-denial; self-inflicted pain without any recompense—­where is that to be found?

’Charity is that virtue by which part of that sincere love we have for ourselves is transferred pure and unmixed to others (not friends or relatives), whom we have no obligation to, nor hope or expect anything-from.’  The counterfeit of true charity is pity or compassion, which is a fellow-feeling for the sufferings of others.  Pity is as much a frailty of our nature as anger, pride, or fear.  The weakest minds (e.g., women and children) have generally the greatest share of it.  It is excited through the eye or the ear; when the suffering does not strike our senses, the feeling is weak, and hardly more than an imitation of pity.  Pity, since it seeks rather our own relief from a painful sight, than the good of others, must be curbed and controlled in order to produce any benefit to society.