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 Digitized by the Internet Archive
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http://www.archive.org/details/collectedworksof07stew
 THE COLLECTED WORKS

of

DUGALD STEWART.

VOL. Vii.
 THE COLLECTED WORKS

OF

DUGALD STEWART, ESQ., F.R.SS.

HONORARY MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES AT ST. PETERSBURG ;

MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMIES OF BERLIN AND OF NAPLES; OF THE

AMERICAN SOCIETIES OF PHILADELPHIA AND OF BOSTON J

HONORARY MEMBER OF THE PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY OF

CAMBRIDGE PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY
J

IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH.

EDITED BY

SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, BART.,

advocate; A.M. iOXON.);etc. CORRESPONDING member op thb institutb op prance
;

HONORART MEMBER OP THE AMERICAN ACADEMY OP ARTS AND SCIENCES; AND OP

THE LATIN SOCIETY OP JENA ETC. PROFESSOR OP LOGIC AND METAPHYSICS
; ;

IN THE CNIVBRSITY OF EDINBCRGH.

VOL. VII.

EDINBURGH THOMAS CONSTABLE AND

: CO.

LITTLE, BUOWN, ANi) CO., BOSTON, U.S.

MDCCCLV.
 All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means, elec-
tronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or
otherwise, without the prior permission of Gregg
International Publishers Limited

Complete set ISBN 576 02229 2

This volume ISBN 576 028 >7
l
5

Republished in 1971 by Gregg International Publishers Limited

Westmoad, Farnborough, Hants. England
,

Printed in offset by Franz Wolf, Heppenheim/ Be rgstrasse

Western Germany
 THE PHILOSOPHY
OE THE

ACTIVE AND MORAL POWERS OF MAN.

VOL. II.

to Which is prefixed,

j
•
PART SECOND
OP THB

I
OUTLINES OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY.
WITII MANY NEW AND IMPORTANT ADDITIONS.

BY

DUGALD STEWART, ESQ.

EDITED BY

SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, BART.

EDINBURGH: THOMAS CONSTABLE AND CO.

LITTLE, BROWN, AND CO., BOSTON, U.S.

MDCCCLV.
 CONTENTS.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE ACTIVE AND MORAL POWERS.

[BOOKS THIRD AND FOURTH.]

Op the Various Branches of our Duty, .... Paos
3

BOOK THIRD.
OF THE DUTIES WHICH RESPECT THE DEITY.

PRELIMINARY INQUIRY INTO THE PRINCIPLES OF NATURAL RELIGION.

[Comprehending Chapters I.-IV.]

OF THE EXISTENCE OF THE DEITY.

CHAPTER I.

the proof a priori,] ......

[Of the Proofs of the Existence of the Deity ; and first, in. general,

CHAPTER II.

[Of the Proof of the Existence of the Deity a posteriori.]

Sect. 1. Of Foundations of our Reasoning from the Effect to

the the

Cause, and of the Evidences of Active Power exhibited in the

Universe, . . . . . . .12
Sect. 2. Oftlie Argument for the Existence of God, from Final Causes, 35

Sect. 3. Conclusion of the Argument [a posteriori] for the Existence of God, 77

(Part 1.)
(Pakt2.) ... ... 78
90
 • I •

VUl CONTENTS.

Pagk
Sect. 4. Digre$aion with respect to the Use and Abuse of the Speculation
concerning Final Causes in Philosophical Jnauiries, , 93

I
Appendix.^- On the Calculus of Probabilities, in reference to the preceding
Argument for the Existence of God, from Final Causes,] . JOS

CHAPTER III,

Op the Moral Attributes op the Deitt.

Bkot. i. Of the Evidences of Benevolent Design in the Universe, , 121

[Sect, 2. J Of the Evidences of the Moral Government of the Deity, , 156,

CHAPTER IV.

Op a Future State,
Bect.

Bect,
\.

Of
Mind, ........
Of the Argument for a Future

the Evidences for

State derived

a Future State arising from the Human

from the Nature of
163

,,..,,,
2.

Constitution, and from the circumstances in which Man is

placed, 180

[CHAPTER V.]

[Conclusion op Book Third, — Why little need be added concerning

the Duties which respect the Deity,] , , , .219

BOOK FOURTH.
[OF OUR DUTIES TO MEN:~TO WIT, THOSE WHICH RESPECT
OUR FELLOW-CREATURES, AND THOSE WHICH RESPECT
OURSELVES.]

[Part I.]— Of the Duties which respect our Fellow-Crbature*.

[Comprehending Chapters I.— III.]

Of Benevolence, ....... CHAPTER I.

228

Op Jcstice.
Supplement to Chapter Second.
CHAPTER
[As Candour and ab Integrity,]
\ On
II.

....
the Right of Property,} . .
24.1

260
 (JONTENm U

Of Vebagjtv, .-..,,., CHAPTER IIL

274

[Part II.] Of the Duties which respect Ourselves,

[Comprehending Chapter IV.]

CHAPTER IV,

General Remarks on this Class of our Duties, [etc.]

Sect. \. Of the Duty of employing the means we possess to secure our own
Happiness, , , , . . , ,284
Sect. 2, Of Happiness.— Systems of the Grecian Schools on the Subject, 286

Sect. 3 Additional Remarks on Happiness, , , , , 305

[Subsect.] 1, Influence of the Temper on Happiness, , 307

2, Influence of the Imagination on Happiness, . 317
3, Influence of Opinions on Happiness, , ,
328
4, Influence of Habits on Happiness, , , 333

Bect, 4- Continuation of the same Subject, , , 338

[SpesECT-] 1. Pleasures of Activity and of Repose, , , 339

2. Pleasures of Sense, , ,
345
8. Pleasures of the Imagination, , . 346
4. Pleasures of the Understanding, , ,
347
5. Pleasures of the Heart, , , 348

CHAPTER V.

[General Result, Of the Nature and Essence of Virtue.]

Bect. I. Of the different Theories which have been formed concerning the
Object of Moral Approbation, . , , .351
Sect- 2. Of the General Definition of Virtue, ,
. , .351
Sect. 3. On an Ambiguity in the words Right and Wrong, Virtue and
Vice, 357

(•Sect. 4. Of the Office and Use of Reason in the Practice of Morality, , 361

Notes.-^

[To Boor Thirp, (only),]

[Index,]
.,,,., 869

385
 THE PHILOSOPHY
OF THE

ACTIVE AND MORAL POWERS OF MAN.

BOOKS THIRD AND FOURTH.

\VL VII.
 THE PHILOSOPHY
OP THE

ACTIVE AND MOKAL POWERS OF MAN.

[BOOKS THIRD AND FOURTBL-EdJ

OF THE VARIOUS BRANCHES OF OUR DUTY.

The different theories which have been proposed concerning

the nature and essence of Virtue have arisen chiefly from
attempts to trace all the branches of our duty to one principle
of action, such as a rational self-love, benevolence, justice, or a

disposition to obey the will of God.

In order to avoid those partial views of the subject, which

naturally take their rise from an undue love of system, the
following inquiries proceed on an arrangement which has, in
all ages, recommended itself to the good sense of mankind.

This arrangement is founded on the different objects to which

our duties relate. 1st, The Deity. 2c?, Our Fellow-creatures.

And 3d, Ourselves. [Of these, the Third Book contains the
First ; the Fourth Book, the Second and Third.— Ed.]
 —

BOOK THIRD.
OF THE DUTIES WHICH RESPECT THE DEITY.

As our duties to God (so far as they are discoverable by the

light of nature) must be inferred from the relation in which
we stand to him as the Author and the Governor of the uni-
verse, an examination of the principles of natural religion
forms a necessary introduction to this section. Such an exami-
nation, besides, being the reasonable consequence of those
impressions which his works produce on every attentive and
well-disposed mind, may be itself regarded both as one of the
duties we owe to Him, and as the expression of a moral temper
sincerely devoted to truth, and alive to the sublimest emotions
of gratitude and of benevolence.

PRELIMINARY INQUIRY INTO THE PRINCIPLES OF

NATURAL RELIGION.
OF THE EXISTENCE OF THE DEITY.

CHAPTER I.

[OF THE PROOFS OF THE EXISTENCE OF THE DEITY AND ; FIRST, IN

GENERAL, THE PROOF A PRIORI. Ed.]

It is scarcely possible to conceive a man capable of reflection,

who has not, at times, proposed to himself the following ques-
tions : —Whence am
and whence the innumerable trills of
I ?

plants and of animals which I see, in constant succession,

 CHAI\ I. EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A PRIORI. 5

rising into existence ? Whence the beautiful fabric of this

universe ? and by what wise and powerful Being were the
principles of my constitution so wonderfully adapted to the
various objects around me ? To whom am I indebted for the
distinguished rank which I hold in the creation, and for the
numberless blessings which have fallen to my lot ? And what
return shall I make for this profusion of goodness ? — The only
return I can make, by accommodating my conduct to the
is

will of my Creator, and by fulfilling, as far as I am able, the

purposes of my being ? But how are these purposes to
be discovered ? The analogy of the lower animals gives
me here no information. They, too, as well as I, are en-
dowed with various instincts and appetites ; but their nature,
on the whole, exhibits a striking contrast to mine. They are
impelled by a bhnd determination towards their proper objects,
and seem law of their nature in yielding to every
to obey the
principle which excites them to action. In my own species
alone the case is different. Every individual chooses for himself
the ends of his pursuit, and chooses the means which he is to
employ for attaining them. Are all these elections equally
good ? and is there no law prescribed to man ? I feel the
reverse. I am what is right from what is
able to distinguish
wrong what is honourable and becoming from what is un-
;

worthy and base what is laudable and meritorious from

;

what is shameful and criminal. Here, then, are plain indica-

tions of the conduct I ought to pursue. There is a law pre-
scribed to man as well as to the brutes. The only difference
is, that it depends on my own will whether I obey or disobey
it. And shall I alone counteract the intentions of my Maker,
by abusing that freedom of choice which he has been pleased
to bestow on me by raising me to the rank of a rational and
moral being ?
This is surely the language of nature ; and which could not
fail to occur to every man capable of serious thought, were not
the understanding and the moral feelings in some instances
miserably perverted by religious and political prejudices, and
in others by the false refinements of metaphysical theories.
 ! ;

C) PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

How callous must be that heart which does not echo back the
reflections which Milton puts into the mouth of our first
parent

. . . .
" Thou sun, (said I,) fair light,

And thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay,

Ye bills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains,
And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell,
you saw, how came I thus, how here
Tell, if ;

Not of myself by some great Maker then,

;

In goodness, as in power pre-eminent

Tell me how I may know him, how adore,
From whom I have, that thus I move and live,
And feel that I am happier than I know."*

In this manner, a consideration of the relation in which we

stand to God must satisfy us that it is our duty, or (to vary
our language) that it is morally right we should obey his will,

as manifested by that inward monitor, established by himself

as his vicegerent in our breast. Our moral powers give rise to
religious sentiments, and these become, in their turn, the most
powerful inducements to the practice of morality.
In the course of our argument concerning the moral attri-
butes of God, we shall find reason to conclude that our hopes
are not limited to this life, and that there is solid ground to
expect a farther interposition of Divine power for the reward of
virtue and the punishment of vice, a conclusion which will —
furnish another very powerful sanction to the laws of morality.
I shall treat of the presumptions for a future state under the
Natural Religion, because the moral attributes of the
article of
Deity furnish the strongest arguments in support of it. At
the same time, the subjects are not necessarily connected.
Even absolute atheism cannot destroy entirely the anticipa-
tions which bad men have of future punishment, nor would
they reason consequentially if it did for the same blind ;

necessity which brought them into this world may carry them
into another. Whether it be owing to an overruling intelli-
gence or not, it is a fact which nobody can deny, that there are
general laws which regulate the course of human affairs, and
* | Rtradm J.vst, IV viii. 273 ]
 — ;

CHAP. I. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A PRIORI. 7

that even here we see manifest indications of a connexion be-

tween virtue and happiness. Why may not necessity continue
that existence it at first gave birth to ; and why may not the
connexion between virtue and happiness continue for ever ?

Before entering on the following discussions, it is proper for

me to take notice, in the first place, of the insuperable difficul-
ties we may expect to encounter in the course of our inquiries
and, secondly, of the illegitimacy of any inference drawn from
this consideration against the certainty of the truths which it

is our leading aim to establish. Of the justness of both re-

marks, no illustration so striking can be produced as the
difficulties we have already experienced in our researches con-
cerning the powers of the human understanding ; that part of
the universe which of all others would seem to lie the most
completely within the reach of our examination : and. accord-
ingly,an argument has been drawn by Locke from this ac-
knowledged ignorance of man concerning his own nature, to
moderate the arrogance of his pretensions when he presumes to
speculate concerning the attributes of God. " If you do not
understand the operations of your own finite mind, that think-
ing thing within you. do not think it strange that you cannot
comprehend the operations of that Eternal Infinite Mind who
made and governs all things, and whom the heaven of heavens
cannot contain." 1
In proof of the existence of the Deity two modes of reason-
ing have been employed, which are commonly distinguished by
the titles of the arguments a priori and a posteriori ; the
former founded on certain metaphysical propositions which are
assumed as axioms, the latter appealing to that systematic
order, and those combinations of means to ends which are
everywhere conspicuous in nature.

1
Locke's Essay. Book i\. chap. 10. Dieu t«t vicomprfhensibk pour moi.
§ 19. The same thought occurs in aatant son existence m'est intiiuement
Pascal evidente. La preuve en est en moi
*'
L'homme sait si peu ce que e'est et comme moi, tout homme porte cette
que Dieu. qu'il ne sait pas ce qu'il est lui- preuve en lui-meme." [T Cirtie

meme : . . mais autant l'essence d'un II. Art. ? g 12. alibi, ed. Tvenouani]
 —

8 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. 111. DUTIES TO GOD.

The argument a priori has been enforced with singular in-

genuity by Dr. Clarke, whose particular manner of stating it is

supposed to have been suggested to him by the following pas-

sage in Newton's Principia: — " ^ternus est et infinitus,
omnipotens et omnisciens, id est, durat ab aeterno in aeternum,
et adest ab infinito in infinitum : omnia regit, et omnia cog-
noscit quae fiunt aut fieri possunt. Non est aeternitas et
infinitas, sed seternus et infinitus ; non est duratio et spatium,
sed durat Durat semper, et adest ubique et existendo
et adest. ;

semper et ubique, durationem et spatium constituit

Deum summum necessario existere in confesso est : et eadem
necessitate semper est et ubique."*
The substance of Clarke's argument is essentially the same,
amounting to the following proposition, that " space and time
are only abstract conceptions of an immensity and eternity
which force themselves on our belief; and as immensity and
eternity are not substances, they must be the attributes of a
Being who is necessarily immense and eternal."!
" These/' says Dr. Keid, " are the speculations of men of
superior genius but whether they be as solid as they are sub-
;

lime, or whether they be the wanderings of imagination in a

region beyond the limits of human understanding, I am unable
to determine." J After this candid acknowledgment from Dr.
Reid, I need not be ashamed to confess own doubts and my
1
difficulties on the same subject.

* [ScJiolium generate, at end, 2d edit.] Review of the Principal Questions and

f [Clarke's Demonstration, &c, Vol. Difficulties in Morals, has attempted to
I. prop. 4. —
Collection of Papers, &c. ;
illustrateand enforce Clarke's argument,
Clarke's first and third Replies, &c] by placing it in a light somewhat dif-
X [Intellectual Powers, Essay I. chap. ferent from that in which it occurred to
iii. — Works, p. 343, b.] the author; but he appears to me, by
1
An argument, substantially the departing from the language of Clarke
same with that of Newton, for the exist- and Newton, to have involved their
ence of God, is hinted at by Cudworth. ideas in additional mystery. In the
— Intellectual System, Chap. V. sectt. iii. course of this reasoning he observes,
iv. § 4. Also by Dr. Henry More, EncM- that " God is wisdom rather than wise,
ridion Metaphysicce, Chap. VIII. § viii. and reason rather than reasonable." In
See Mosheim's Latin Translation of like manner, (he continue?,) " he is
Cudworth, Tom. II. p. 356, Lugd. Batav. eternity rather than eternal, immensity
1773 [Cap. V. sect. iii. § 4, note (f).] rather than immense, and power rather
J>r. Price, in the last edition of his than powerful." (licvieic. &c &c. p.
 CHAP. I. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A PRIORI. 9

But although the argument, by Clarhe, does not as stated

carry complete conviction to my mind, I think it must be ac-
knowledged that there is something very peculiar and wonder-
ful in those conceptions of Immensity and Eternity which force
themselves on our belief. Nay farther, I think that these
conceptions furnish important lights in the study of natural
religion. For when once we have established the existence of
an intelligent and powerful cause from the works of creation,
we are unavoidably led to apply to him our conceptions of im-
mensity and eternity, and to conceive him as filling the infinite
extent of both with his presence and his power. Hence we
associate with the idea of God those awful impressions which
are naturally produced by the idea of Infinite Space, and per-
haps still more by the idea of Endless Duration. Nor is this all.
It is from our ideas of Space and of Time that the notion of
Infinity is originally derived, and it is thence that we transfer
the expression by a sort of metaphor, to other subjects. When
we speak, therefore, of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness,
our notions, if not wholly borrowed from space and time, are
at least wonderfully aided by this analogy ; so that the concep-
tions of immensity and eternity, if they do not of themselves
demonstrate the existence of God, yet necessarily enter into the
ideas we form of his nature and attributes. It may be worth

while to add, that the notion of Necessary Existence which we

derive from the contemplation of space and of time render the
same notion, when applied to the Supreme Being, much more
easy to be apprehended than it would otherwise be.

500, 3d edit.)The excellent and learned words to be said of God— I wish he had
writer seems to have considered this considered better with himself before he
thought as entirely new but it is to be ;
had desperately cast himself upon these
found in Hobbes's Answer to Bishop rocks."— Hobbes's Works, p. 428, fol. ed.
Bramhall, where it is quoted from the On this point I cannot help agreeing
writings of that prelate. I presume with Hobbes, that, " though all men in
(for I have never seen the Bishop's the world understand that tlie eternal

works) that it is faithfully copied from is God, yet no man can understand that
some one of his publications. " Upon the eternity is God, any more than that
this silly conceit, he (Tho. Hobbes) a wise man and his wisdom are the

charges me for saying that God is not same ; or that any attribute in the ab-
just but justice itself, not eternal but stract is the same with the substance to
eternity itself, which he calleth unseemly which it is attributed."— Ibid. p. 429.
10 PHILOSOPHY OF THE M -ilAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

Important use may also be made of these conceptions of

immensity and eternity in stating the argument for the future
existence of the soul. For why was the mind of man rendered
capable oi extending its views in point of time beyond the
limits of human transactions, and in point ot space, beyond the
limits of the visible universe, if all our prospects are to termi-
nate hen — r why was a glimpse o{ so magnificent a scene
disclosed to a being, the period of whose animal existence bears
>v - oropor: :"...
•

: his desires ? Surely

this conception of the necessary exisi :
-• . :id time. o\
immens::y r.-.d eternity, was not forced continually upou the
thoughts of man for no purpose whatever. And to what pur-
-../-; ,
.--. nv^ sopg K iJ fed b( subservient, but to remind those 1

who :s v reason, of the t riding value oi

- .: of t: ^
-out pursue, when compared
with th - ::es on which we may afterwards enter; and to
animate us in the pursuit of wisdom and virtue, by affording
l
us the i : s: -.
. t of an inde/ht progression ?

Alter 1 have already odd of the argument a priori, it

will not K - dd enter lure into a particular
.

illustiv:' it Such as wish to examine it with attention

Qgnti Dr. Clarke's work. On the Being and Attribute*
oi Dr. Price's 1. Principal
Questions and Difficulties m Morals ; and a book published by
late Bishop of Ossonv where, after an historical
of the different forms in which the argument priori

had plunk the same ar- Hamilton, author of A Tnvtim* of

gument whoa bo r marked. Gmic Smiou** which appeared at

Aaarao qmomtoJo imhmnt in m*emtibu* Dublin in I renio::

to ha»o admired many years ago for its

tmtmrormm: idque in maTimis ingeniis originality and elegance. 1: IV. Watt1!

ahissimisque anioiU ot exsistit roaxiuio. information ^which is not al»
iwet fiacilKme."— 7WW. Diqmt in ;
tnia in

that, in MJ Mr Ham:'.'
- In the B&iMMwi Bntmmmim, genius appears to much gTeater ad
published by tho .is- vantage as a geometrician than as a
I this work a*

SrrtfoailMi CV-k-ml T**rUtu* Ca- i tm yw Ml Xmtmrm iftim Omi.

 ::

* r\
.

_>t ij_

::.:>: _i

ill: i
 CHAPTER II.

OF THE PROOF OF THE EXISTENCE OF THE DEITY

A POSTERIORI, [AND IN DETAIL.]

SECTION I. — OF THE FOUNDATIONS OF OUR REASONING FROM THE

EFFECT TO THE CAUSE, AND OF THE EVIDENCES OF ACTIVE
POWER EXHIBITED IN THE UNIVERSE.

It was before observed, that our knowledge of the course of

nature is entirely the result of observation and experiment, and
that there is no instance in which we perceive such a connexion
between two successive events as might enable us to infer the
one from the other as a necessary consequence.
From experience, indeed, we learn that there are many events
so conjoined, that the one constantly follows the other. It is

possible, however, that this connexion, though a constant one

as far as our observation has reached, is not a necessary con-
nexion ; nay, it is any thing we know to the con-
possible, for
trary, that there may be no necessary connexions among any of
the phenomena we see and if there are any such connexions
;

existing, we may rest assured that we shall never be able to

discover them.
With when stated in general terms, most
this principle,
people I apprehend will now agree. Nor is the principle a new
one, (as has been commonly supposed,) and peculiar to Mr.
Hume's system. Of this assertion I have produced sufficient
proof in a note at the end of the first volume of the Philosophy
of the Human 31i?id, where I have quoted various passages
from Hobbes, Barrow, Butler, Berkeley, and others, demon-
strating clearly that their notions on the subject were precisely
 —

CHAP. JI. — EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 13

the same with Mr. Hume's. 1 To the list of names there men-
tioned, perhaps that of Socrates ought to be added, who, as
Xenophon tells in the Memorabilia, blamed the Sophists for
inquiring rtaiv avayiccus eKaara yiyverai rcov ovpavlcop. And
he adds, — A\\a ra rouxura fMopalvovras
/ecu toi>? <f>povTt,£ovra<;

aireheUvvev. Afterwards he says, 'EOavfia^e 8*, el fir) (fxivepov

avroi? earvv, otl ravra ov Zvvarov eanv avOpoairoi^ evpelv?
From view of the subject, with regard to Cause and
this
Effect in physics, Mr. Hume has deduced an objection to the
argument a posteriori for the existence of the Deity. After
having proved that we cannot get the idea of necessary con-
nexion from examining the conjunction between any two events,
he takes for granted that we have no other idea of cause and
effect, than of two successive events which are always con-

joined ; that we have therefore no reason to think that any one

event in nature is necessarily connected with another, or to in-
fer the operation of Power from the changes we observe in the
universe.
In consequence of these alarming inferences, a number of
Mr. Hume's opponents have been led to call in question the
truth of his general principles with respect to the relation of
cause and effect in natural philosophy. But it has always
appeared to me that the defect of this part of Mr. Hume's
system does not lie in his premises, but in the conclusion which
he has deduced from them and which, I natter myself, I shall
;

be able to show cannot be inferred from these premises by a

legitimate process of reasoning.
Of the objections that have been stated to Mr. Hume's
premises some are extremely frivolous. Dr. Beattie has op-
posed them by some instances. " There are now," says he, " in

my view, two contiguous houses, one of which was built last

summer, and the other two years ago. By seeing them con-
stantly together for several months, I find that the idea of the
one determines my mind to form the idea of the other ; so that,

according to Mr. Hume's definition, the one house is the cause,

1
For some curious passages to the Appendix, Art. iv. — Works, Vol. III.
same purpose, see Philosophy of the pp. 389, «e#.; 417, seq.]
Human Mind, Vol. II. Note 0, [and 2
Lib. I. cap. i. §§ 11, 13.
 ;

14 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

1
and the other the But Dr. Beattie has overlooked one
effect."

circumstance mentioned by Mr. Hume. That author had

evidently in his view not co-existent objects, but events suc-
ceeding each other in the order of time, for he always ascribes
priority to the cause.
The same remark may be made on another instance which
Dr. Beattie mentions. " Day and night/' says he, " have

always been contiguous and successive, —the imagination na-

turally runs from the idea of the one to that of the other ;

consequently, according to Mr. Hume's theory, either day is

the cause of night, or night the cause of day, just as we con-
sider the one or the other to have been originally prior in time
and its being the one or the other, depends entirely on my
2
imagination/' Now, it is evident that this conclusion never
can be formed according to Mr. Hume's theory, for he tells us
that when two events are conjoined we affix the idea of causa-
tion to that event which happens
order of time. first in the
But day and night happening alternately, the one cannot be
considered as prior to the other, and therefore it is quite
impossible that the idea of causation can be affixed to either.
But taking for granted the truth of Mr. Hume's premises,
let us consider the accuracy of his subsequent reasoning.
In order to form a competent judgment on this point, it is

necessary to recollect, that, according to his system, " all our

ideas are nothing but copies of our impressions ; or, in other
words, that it is impossible for us to think of anything which
we have not antecedently felt, either by our external or internal
senses."* Having proved, therefore, that external objects, as
they appear to our senses, give us no idea of power or of
necessary connexion, and also that this idea cannot be copied
from any internal impression, (that is, cannot be derived from
reflection on the operations of our own minds,) he thinks him-
self warranted to conclude that we have no such idea. " One

event," says he, "follows another, but we never observe any

1
Essay on Truth. Second edition, ceniing Iluman Understanding, Bed
p. 332. [Part II. chap. ii. sect. 3.] vii. Of the Idea of Necessary Conner
2
Ibid. ion, Part 1 ; compare also sect, ii.]

* [Exsuys, Vol, II. An In</uiry ran

 CHAP. U. —EXISTENCE OF GOD —PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 15

between them. They seem conjoined but never connected.

tie

And as we can have no idea of anything which never appeared

to our outward sense or inward sentiment, the necessary con-
clusion seems to be, that we have no idea of connexion or
power at all, and that these words are absolutely without any
meaning when employed either in philosophical reasonings or
common life."*

Are we therefore to reject, as perfectly unintelligible, a word

which is to be found in all languages, because it expresses an
idea, for the origin of which we cannot account upon a par-
ticular philosophical system ? Would it not be more reason-
able to suspect that the system was not perfectly complete,
than that all mankind should have agreed in employing a
word which conveys no meaning ?
With respect to Mr. Hume's theory concerning the origin of
our ideas, it is the less necessary to enter into particular dis-
cussions, as it main with the doctrine of Locke,
coincides in the
to which I have elsewhere stated some objections, which appear
to me insurmountable. 1 Upon neither theory is it possible to
explain the origin of those simple notions, which are not re-
ceived immediately by any external sense, or derived from our
own consciousness, but which are necessarily formed by the
mind while we are exercising our intellectual powers upon
their proper objects.
These very slight hints are sufficient to show that we are not
entitled to dispute the reality of our idea of Power, because we
cannot trace it any of the senses.
to The only question is, if it

be certain, that we annex any idea to the word power different

from that of constant succession ? The following considera-
tions, among many others, prove that the import of these two
expressions is by no means the same.
First, then, it is evident, that, if we had no idea of cause and
effect different would appear
from that of mere succession, it

to us as absurd to suppose two events disjoined which we have

constantly seen connected, as to suppose a change in external

* [Ibid. Part 2] Vol. I. p. 94, et seq. Sixth edit. [Chap. I.

1
Philosophy of the Human Mind, §iv. supra, Works, Vol. II. p. 113, seq.]
 ;

16 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS.— B. IN. DUTIES TO GOD.

objects to take place without a cause. The fact, however, is,

that nobody finds it difficult to conceive that two events which
are constantly conjoined may not be necessarily connected
;

whereas may
be safely pronounced to be impossible for a
it

person to bring himself for a moment to believe that any

change may take place in the material universe without a
cause. I can conceive very easily that the volition in my mind
is not the efficient cause of the motions of my hand but can ;

I conceive that my hand moves without any cause whatever ?

Nay, I can conceive that no one event in nature is necessarily
connected with any other event but does it therefore follow ;

that I can conceive these events to happen without the opera-

tion of a cause ? Leibnitz maintained that the volitions of
the mind were not the efficient causes of the motions of the
body; and compared the connexion between them to that
between two clocks so adjusted by an artist that the motions
of the one shall always correspond with those of the other.
Every person of reflection must acknowledge that, however un-
warranted by facts this theory may be, it is still possible it may
be true. But if Leibnitz had affirmed not only that there was no
connexion between the two clocks, but that the motions in each
went on without any cause whatever, his theory would have been
not only unsupported by proof, but absurd and inconceivable.
In the second place, our experience of the established con-
nexions of physical events is evidently too limited a foundation
for our belief that every change must have a cause. Mr. Hume
himself, in laying down "the rales by which to judge of causes
and effects," observes, in the first place, that " Cause and Effect
must be contiguous in space and time ;" and consequently he
apprehended that, according to the general opinion, Matter pro-
1
duces by Impulse alone.
its effects If, therefore, every change

which had fallen under our notice had been preceded by appa-
rent impulse, experience might have led us to conclude, from
observing a change, that a previous impulse had been given
or, according to Mr. Hume's notion of a cause, that a cause had

1
Treatise of Human Nature, Vol. I. p. 304. See also p. 136. [Book I. Part
iii. Sect. 15; ibid. sect. 2]
 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOB 1
A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 17

operated to produce this effect.Of the changes, however,

which we see, how small a number is preceded by apparent
impulse ! And yet, in the case of every change around us,
without exception, we have an irresistible conviction of the
operation of some cause. I believe it will be difficult to
explain, upon Mr. Hume's principles, how we get this idea of
the necessity of a cause in the case of those phenomena in
which impulse has apparently no share.
To this we may add, that children at a very early period of
life, when their experience is extremely limited, discover an
eager curiosity to pry into the causes of the phenomena they
observe. Even the attention of the lower animals seems to be
roused when they see a body begin to move, or in general any
change begin to take place in external objects.
The arguments which are commonly used to prove the
necessity of human actions, derive all their plausibility from
the general maxim, that every change requires a cause with
which it is necessarily connected. It is remarkable that this
doctrine of the Necessity of the will should form part of the
same system with the theory of Cause and Effect which I have
1
now been examining.
The question, however, what manner do we
still recurs, in
acquire the idea of Causation, Power, or Efficiency ? But this
question, • if the foregoing observations be admitted, is com-

1
The same argument for the Neces- s'etend aux actions meme que Ton juge
sity of the will has been very recently indifferentes. La volonte la plus libre
repeated with much confidence by the ne pent, sans un motif determinant,
Comte de Laplace in his Essai Philoso- leur donner naissance car si toutes les
;

phique sur les Probabilites. " Les circonstances de deux positions etant
evenemens actuels ont avec les pre- exactement semblables, elle agissoit

cedens une liaison fondee sur le prin- dans Tune et s'absteneit d'agir dans
cipe evident, qu'une chose ne peut pas l'autre, son choix seroit un effet sans
commencer d'etre, sans une cause qui cause;* elle seroit alors, dit Leibnitz, le

la produise. Cet axiome, connu sous le hazard aveugle des Epicuriens." — [P. 5,

nom de principe de la raison svffisante, 2d edit. 1814.]

• The impropriety of this language was long ago pointed out by Mr. Hume. " They are still
more friTolous who Fay that every effect must have a cause, because it is implied in the very idea
of effect. Every effect necessarily presupposes a cause, effect being a relative term, of which cause
is the co-relative. The true state of the question is, whether every object which begins to exist
must owe its existence to a cause V— Treatise of Human Nature, Vol. I. p. 147.— [Book I. Part iii.
sect. 3.]

VOL. VII. I*
18 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

paratively of little consequence, as the doubts which may arise

on the subject tend only (without affecting the reality of the
idea or notion) to expose the defects of particular philosophical
systems.
The most probable account of the matter seems to be, that
the idea of Causation or of Power necessarily accompanies the
perception of Change in a way somewhat analogous to that in
which sensation implies a being who feels, and thought a being
who thinks. Is it possible to conceive a person (however
limited his experience may be) whose curiosity would not be
roused by a change taking place in the objects around him ?
and what is this curiosity but an anxiety to know the cause
of the effect ? The mere perception of change, therefore, in
the material universe, seems sufficient to introduce to the mind
the ideas of cause and effect, and to impress us with a belief that
thischange could not have taken place unless there had been
some cause for it. Such, I apprehend, would be the conclusion
of a man wholly destitute of experience, and who was even igno-
rant of his own power to move at will the members of his body.
must indeed be acknowledged, that, after having had
It
experience of our own poiver, we come to associate the idea of
force, or of an animal nisus, with that of cause ; and hence
some have been led to suppose that our only idea of cause is

derived from our bodily exertions. Hence, too, it is that in

natural philosophy our language frequently bears a reference
to our own sensations. The ideas of cause, however, and of
'power, are more general than that of force, and might have been
acquired although we had never been conscious of any bodily
exertion whatever. There is surely no impropriety in saying
that the mind has power over the train of its ideas, and over its

various faculties, as well as over the members of the body.

These observations coincide with the opinion of Dr. Keid,
who long ago remarked, that, by the constitution of the mind, a
beginning of existence, or any change in nature, suggests to us
the notion of a cause, and compels our belief of its existence *

* {Intellectual Powers, Essay VI. Powers, Essay I. chap. W — Works, p.

chap. vi. — Works, p. 45"), 8eq—Active 521, »eq.]

 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 19

Dr. Price also, in treating of the origin of our ideas, 1 has

anticipated me in part of the foregoing doctrine. " What we
observe," says he, a by our external senses,
is properly no more

than that one thing follows another, or the constant con-

junction of certain events. That one thing is the cause of
another, or produces and operation, we never
it by its efficacy

see. Our requires some cause

certainty that every new event
depends not at all on experience, no more than our cer-
tainty of any other the most obvious subject of intuition. In
the idea of every cJicmge is included that of its being an
2
effect:.'

Upon 3 this part of the subject, indeed, I write with a good

deal of diffidence, because the opinion which I have now stated
differs considerably from that of some very ingenious and
candid persons with whom I have conversed ; who think not
only that from our own voluntary exertions that our Jirst
it is

ideas of cause and power are derived, but that we have no idea
whatever of these which is not borrowed by analogy from our
own consciousness.
One of my friends has amused himself with conceiving in
what manner a man, who had never had experience of any
animal exertion, would reason concerning the phenomena of
the material world, and has been led to apprehend that he
would consider the different events he saw merely as antece-

1
See his Review of the Principal necessary connexion and truth." —
Questions in Morals. —
[Chap. I. sect. ii. [Ibidem, p. 38.]
p. 33, orig. edit] * This paragraph, and some of the

following pages, are copied verbatim

2 I do not know how to reconcile this from an Essay on the Idea of Cause
passage from Price with another which and Effect, and on the object of Natural
follows a few pages after. " While Philosophy, which the author read before
we only see one thing constantly fol- the Royal Society of Edinburgh in the
lowing another, without perceiving the year 1784. The original copy, in the
real dependence and connexion, we are hand-writing of a friend still alive, is at
necessarily dissatisfied, and feel a present in my possession. Various
state of mind very different from that other paragraphs in this section are
entire acquiescence which we experi- transcribed with some slight alterations
ence upon considering Sir Isaac New- from the same manuscript. —
See Trans
ton's laws of motion, any other in-
or actions of the Royal Society of Edin
stances and facts in which we see the burgh, Vol. I. p. 21.
20 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

dents and consequents, without applying to the former in any

instance the idea of causation}
I have already hinted that my own opinion is different from
this ; but I perfectly agree with my friend in thinking that this
conclusion does not lead the way to any sceptical consequences.
To say that our ideas of Power and Cause are derived from our
own voluntary exertions, does not affect the reality of these
ideas. And although we should grant that a man, who had
never been conscious of any voluntary exertion, could never be
led to conceive these ideas, or to comprehend the argument for
the existence of a Deity, still that argument would apply uni-
versally to our species, for without such a consciousness no
individual ever did, or could exist. Whatever ideas, whatever
principleswe are necessarily led to acquire by the circumstances
in which we are placed, and by the exercise of those faculties
which are essential to our preservation, are to be considered as
parts of human nature, no less than those which are implanted
in the mind at its first formation.
I am
aware that this will not be considered by some as a
complete answer to the objection and it will still be urged ;

that, if our only ideas of Cause and Power be derived from our
own voluntary exertions, the argument for the existence of a
Deity rests merely on an arbitrary association of ideas. We
have found from experience that our voluntary exertions are
followed by certain changes in the state of external objects,
and are accordingly led to suppose, when we see other changes
take place, that they have been preceded by some voluntary
exertions analogous to those of which we are conscious. I

cannot, however, help being of opinion, that the principle which

leads us to consider a cause as necessary to produce a change
from the associa-
in material things, is of a kind very different
tion of ideas. The changes which we and the whole human
race are able to produce in the state of terrestrial objects are
nothing, either in point of number or magnitude, in compari-
son of those which we see going on both in the earth and
heavens, and I may add in our own bodies, and over which we
1
I alluded here to my late excellent and illustrious friend Mr. Play fair.
 ;

CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD—PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ J.) 21

have no influence. Whence then that we connect with

is it

every change we see, the idea of a cause ? From the similarity

between our own appearance and that of other men. and from
.the striking analogy between the human race and other animals,
I shall admit that the association of ideas alone might lead us
to connect the idea of voluntary exertion with animal motion.
But whence is it that we associate the idea of a cause with the
fall of a stone, with the ebbing and flowing of the sea, or with

the motion of the planets ? It will be said that, having learned

from our own consciousness and experience the connexion
between voluntary exertion and motion, we have recourse to
the supposition of some analogous power or force to account
for every motion we see. But what is it that leads us to think
of accounting for these motions ? Nothing, I apprehend, but
that law of our nature which leads us to infer the existence of
a cause wherever a change is perceived.
Some authors have compared this law of our nature to our
instinctive interpretation of natural signs. 1 As we perceive the
passions and emotions in the minds of others by means of their
looks and gestures, so it has been apprehended that every
change we observe is accompanied with a perception of power
or cause. This comparison will not be the less just, although
we should proceed on the supposition that our first ideas of
power and cause are derived from our own voluntary exertions
for the case is perfectly analogous with respect to the natural
expressions of passion and emotion. No modification of coun-
tenance could convey the idea of rage to a man who had never
been conscious of that passion ; but after having acquired the
idea of this passion from his own consciousness, he is able in-
stinctively to interpret its natural expression.
Although, however, there may be some foundation for the
foregoing comparison, it is necessary to remark, that our asso-
ciation of the ideas of change and cause is of a much more
intimate and indissoluble nature than our association of any
natural sign with the idea signified. Every person must per-
ceive, upon the slightest reflection, that the connexion between
1
Reid's Inquiry, 3d edit. pp. 88, 89.— [Chap. V. sect. iiL— Works, p. 122.]
22 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

any sign and the thing signified, may be merely an arbitrary

connexion adapted to our particular constitution. Even in the
case of Hardness we can discover no connexion whatever be-
tween the external quality and the sensation which suggests it.
But, in the case of every change in the state of external objects,
or of our own we not only connect with this particular
bodies,
change the idea of some Cause, but we have an irresistible con-
viction of the necessity of a cause. Something not unlike to
this takes place with respect to our ideas of Space and Time.
We acquire both originally from our perceptions but having ;

once acquired them, we have an irresistible conviction that both

space and time are necessary and self-existent.
Having endeavoured to vindicate against the objections of
Mr. Hume the reality of our notion of Power or Efficiency, I
proceed to examine more particularly the foundation of our
belief, that every thing that begins to exist must have a cause.
Is this belief founded on abstract reasoning, or is it the result
of experience, or an intuitive judgment 1
is it

A variety of attempts have been made to demonstrate the

truth of this principle from some general metaphysical axioms ;
in particular by Hobbes, Clarke, and Locke. Mr. Hume, in
his Treatise of Human Nature, has examined each of their
demonstrations, and has shown very clearly that they all take
for granted the thing to be proved.*
Other philosophers have thought that the principle may be
proved by induction, from the particular instances that have
fallen under our experience, as we infer from particular facts
that cold freezes water, that heat turns it into steam, and that
all bodies gravitate to each other.
But this opinion will not bear examination ; for the thing to
be proved is not a contingent but a necessary truth. " It is not.
[says Reid,f] that thingswhich begin to exist commonly have a
cause nor even that they have always been found to have a cause
;

as far as our experience has reached, — but that they must haw
a cause, and that the contrary supposition implies an impossibi-
* [Hook I. Part iii. sect 3, pp. 144 Powers, Kss. VI rh \i. — Works, p. 455]
1 IS, orig. c»l. See also lu-i'l, In'cl'cciual t [Comoro Il»nl. |
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 23

lity."
1
Now it is manifest that no induction, how extensive
soever,can ever lead to the discovery of a necessary truth for ;

experience only informs us of what is, or what has been, not

of what must necessarily be ; and the evidence of the conclusion
must be of the same nature with that of the premises.
But abstracting from this consideration, and viewing this
principle merely as a contingent truth, how is it possible to
account, by means of experience, for our belief, that every
change in the state of the universe is actually produced by a
cause ? In every case in which experience informs us that two
things are connected, both of them must have fallen under our
observation. But the causes of by far the greater number of
phenomena we see are perfectly unknown to us, and therefore
we never could learn from experience whether they have causes
or not. The only instance in which we have any immediate
knowledge of an efficient cause, is in the consciousness we have
of our own voluntary actions, and surely this experience is not
sufficient to account for the confidence with which we form the
general conclusion.
From we may
the foregoing observations infer that this prin-
ciple is not founded on experience; and it has been shown
clearly by Mr. Hume that it is not demonstrable by abstract

1
The very acute and ingenious Dr. be inferred, that Dr. Campbell thought
Campbell, although he plainly leaned to something was still wanting for the

the supposition that our idea of causa- complete elucidation of this subject,
tion is drawn from experience, acknow- Even some of the philosophers who
ledges, nevertheless, that it seems to most confidently reject the application
involve the idea of necessary connexion. of the word necessary to this proposition,
" In the proposition whatever hath a admit that it involves the idea of in-
beginning hath a cause, we intuitively variable connexion. I should be glad
conclude from the existence of one thing to be informed what distinction they
the existence of another. This proposi- make between the words invariable and
tion, however, so far differs, in my ap- necessary. What idea do we annex to

prehension, from others of the same the phrase necessary conjunction, but a
order, that I cannot avoid considering conjunction which cannot be varied ?

the opposite assertion as not only false, Experience (it is plain) can only inform
but contradictory ; but I do not pretend. us that a conjunction has been found
to explain the ground of this difference." unvaried as far as it has been hither-
— Philosophy of Rhetoric, Vol. I. pp. to observed, but how do we infer from
114, 115. — [Ong. ed. Book I. chap. v. this that it is an invariable conjunc-
Part 3.] From the last clause it may tion ?
^4 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

reasoning, —we must therefore conclude that it is either a pre-

judice or an intuitive judgment.
That it is be safely inferred from the
not a prejudice may
universal consent of mankind, both learned and unlearned.
Mr. Hume was the first person who called it in question, and
even he frequently relapses unawares into the common convic-
u As
tion. Thus in his Treatise of Human Nature : to those
Impressions which arise from the Senses, their ultimate cause
is, in my opinion, perfectly inexplicable by human reason ; and it

will always be impossible to decide with certainty whether they

arise immediately from the object, or are produced by the crea-
tive power of the mind, or are derived from the author of our
being."*
Upon a review of the observations and reasonings already
stated in the course of this inquiry, it can scarcely fail to occur
to an attentive reader, that the word cause is used both by phi-
losophers and the vulgar in two senses, which are widely differ-
ent. When it is said that every change in nature indicates the
operation of a cause, the word cause expresses something which
is supposed to be necessarily connected with the change, and
without which it could not have happened. This may be called
the metaphysical meaning of the word, and such causes may be
called Metaphysical or Efficient causes.
In natural philosophy, however, when we speak of one thing
being the cause of another, all that we mean is, that the two
when we see the one we may
are constantly conjoined, so that
expect the other. These conjunctions we learn from experience
alone, and without an acquaintance with them we could not
accommodate our conduct to the established course of nature.
The causes which are the objects of our investigation in na-
tural philosophy may, for the sake of distinction, be called
Physical causes}

* [Book I. Part iii. sect. 5, p. 151, sons, London, 1800,) I find the following
orig. ed.] sentence, the meaning of which I am
1
In a respectable publication, en- quite unable to conjecture,
u
titledIntroduction to an Analysis of the Causes are either Experimental or
Principles of Natural Philosophy, by Rational; experiment is the only stan-
Dr. Matthew Young of Dublin, (Robin- dard of experimental causes ;
perception
 — —

CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD—PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 25

In the Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind* I

have endeavoured to trace the origin of those prejudices which
have led philosophers, in every age, to confound together Effi-
cient and Physical causes and I have remarked the extensive ;

influence which this inaccurate employment of terms has had

on their physical systems. The ancients, in particular, seem
universally to have ascribed a real efficiency to physical causes ;

and the same supposition is implied in those expressions, so

frequently in use among the moderns, of " a chain of causes
and effects, or of necessary connexions existing among physical
events." 2
Mr. Hume had, I think, great merit in showing, that
the province of the natural philosopher is not to trace necessary
connexions, but constant conjunctions ; or, in other words, to
trace the general laws which regulate the order of the universe.
But in stating this doctrine, he unfortunately went into the oppo-
site extreme and as the ancients had vitiated natural philoso-
;

phy by busying themselves about efficient causes, so Mr. Hume's

argument tends, though perhaps unintentionally on his part, to
subvert the foundations of natural religion, by affirming that
physical causes are the only ones we know, and that the words
Power, Efficiency, and Necessary Connexion, convey no meaning.
If this important distinction between Efficient and Physical
causes be kept steadily in view, Mr. Hume's doctrine concern-
ing the relation of Cause and Effect in physics, so far from lead-
of the necessary connexion of events is ports it must be supported, until we

the standard of rational causes." In come to the first link, which is supported
illustration of this distinction, he refers by the Throne of the Almighty."
to an Essay by K. Young, On the Me- (Essays on the Intellectual Powers, 4to
chanism of Nature. ed. p. 1 15.— [Essay II. chap, vi —
Works,
1
Vol. I. chap. i. sect. 2. [Supra, p. p. 261.]) It is difficult to reconcile the

96, seg.] approbation here bestowed on the above

2
Even in the present times, some of similitude, with the excellent and pro-

the most sagacious of Bacon's followers found remarks on the relation of Cause
show a disposition to relapse into the and Effect, which occur in other parts of
figurative language of the multitude. Dr. Reid's Works. See Essays on the
" The chain of Natural Causes," says Active Powers, p. 44, and pp. 286-288.
Dr. Reid, " has, not unfitly, been com- [Essay I. chap, vi., Essay IV. chap. iii.
pared to a chain hanging down from — Works, pp. 526, 606, 607.] Foraddi-
Heaven ; a link that is discovered sup- tionalremarks on the same subject, see
ports the links beloy it, but it must Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol.
itself be supported ; and that which sup- II. Note N.
26 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

ing to atheism, is more favourable to religious belief than the

common inaccurate conceptions entertained on that subject ; as
it keeps the Deity always in view, not only as the first, but as
the constantly operating efficient cause in the material world,
(either immediately, or by means of some intelligent instru-
ments,) and as the great connecting principle among all the
various phenomena which we observe. 1
As to Mr. Hume's metaphysical subtleties on the idea of
Causation, it seems to me perfectly unnecessary to enlarge far-
ther on the argument, after the solution which he has himself
suggested of the doubts and which have been now
difficulties
under our consideration. This solution, which is, in my opi-
nion, eminently philosophical and beautiful, and which is more
satisfactory to my mind than anything advanced by his adver-
saries in opposition to his reasonings, I shall transcribe in Mr.
Hume's own words.
" Here, then, is a kind of pre-established harmony between
the course of nature and the succession of our ideas ; and though
the powers and forces by which the former is governed be
wholly unknown to us, yet our thoughts and conceptions have
still, we find, gone on in the same train with the other works

of nature. Custom is that principle by which this correspond-

ence has been effected ; so necessary to the subsistence of our
species, and the regulation of our conduct in every circumstance
and occurrence of human life. Had not the presence of an
object instantly excited the idea of those objects commonly con-
joined with it, all our knowledge must have been limited to the
narrow sphere of our memory and senses and we should never ;

have been able to adjust means to ends, or employ our natural

powers, either to the producing of good or avoiding evil. Those
who delight in the discovery and contemplation of final causes,
have here ample subject to employ their wonder and admiration.
1
This was, in fact, the very conclusion the moral world. For some remarks upon
which Malebranche drew from premises the important consequences which fol-

strikingly similar to those of Mr. Hume. low from this error, see First Disserta-
The great error of Malebranche in this tion prefixed to the Supplement to tJic

inquiry, was his extending his theory of Fncycloptedia Britannica, Part II. p.

Ocatsionul Causes from the material to 170. — [ Works, vol. i. p. 430]

 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§1.) 27

" I shall add, for a farther confirmation of the foregoing

theory, that as this operation of the mind by which we infer

like effects from like causes, aud vice versa, is so essential to
the existence of all human creatures, it is not probable that it

could be trusted to the fallacious deductions of our reason,

which is slow in its operations; appears not in any degree
during the first years of infancy ; and
at best is, in every age
and period of human life, extremely liable to error and mis-
take. It is more conformable
ordinary wisdom of
to the
nature to secure so necessary an act of the mind by some
instinct or mechanical tendency, which may be infallible in its
operations ; may discover itself at the first appearance of life

and thought ; and may be independent of all the laboured

deductions of the understanding. As nature has taught us
the use of our limbs without giving us the knowledge of the
muscles and nerves by which they are actuated, so has she im-
planted in us an instinct which carries forward the thoughts
in a correspondent course to that which she has established
among external objects, though we are ignorant of those powers
and forces on which this regular course and succession of
objects totally depend." 1
had just observed, before I introduced the foregoing quota-
I
tion, that if the distinction between Efficient and Physical causes

be admitted, Mr. Hume's doctrine with respect to the relation

between Cause and Effect in natural philosophy, is more favour-
able to theism than the common inaccurate conceptions which
are entertained concerning that relation, as it keeps the Deity
always in view as the constantly operating efficient cause in the

material world, and as the great connecting principle among

2
all its various phenomena.
1
See in the last edition of Mr. Hume's liable to run into in our speculations
Philosophical Essays, published during about causes, without a due attention to
hia own lifetime, the two sections en- the ambiguity of the word cause, I shall
titled Sceptical Doubts concerning the transcribe a few sentences from Mr.
Operations of the Understanding, and Burke's Inquiry into the Sublime and
Sceptical Solution of these Doubts.— Beautiful; in which he has explicitly
[Inquiry concerning Human Under- assigned to the phrase efficient cause the
standing, sect. v. at end.] same meaning I annex to the phrase phy-
1
As a proof of the confusion we are sical cause. In consequence of this, he
 —

28 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

But perhaps it may

be thought by some that this very con-
clusion is a sufficient refutation of the supposition from which
it is inferred ; for how is it possible to conceive that all the
events which are constantly taking place in the different parts
of the material universe are the immediate effects of the
Divine agency ?
For my own part, I have no scruple to admit this conclusion
in all its extent ; for I cannot perceive any absurdity that it
involves and I am happy to find that it is agreeable to the
;

sentiments of some of our best and soundest philosophers.

has been led to represent it as the busi- Is it not a more simple and distinct
ness of natural philosophy to investigate phraseology to give to those causes
efficient causes, while, at the same time*, which the natural philosopher investi-
he acknowledges that ultimate causes are gates the name of Physical, and to
placed beyond the reach of our faculties. apply the epithet Efficient (agreeably
" When I say I intend to inquire to its literal import) to what Burke calls
into the efficient cause of sublimity and ultimate causes ?
beauty, I would not be understood to When I first proposed (more than
say that I can come to the ultimate forty years ago) this phraseology to the
cause That great chain of late Dr. Reid, he objected to it that
causes which links one to another, even Newton, whose language he was
to
to the throne of God himself, can never superstitiously attached, had used the
be unravelled by any industry of ours. phrases physical causes and efficient
When we go but one step beyond the causes as synonymous. If this be the
immediately sensible qualities of things, fact, I have no scruple to say, that

we go out of our depth. All we do Newton has been guilty of indefinite

after is but a faint struggle, that shows and ambiguous expression ; and that
we are in an element which does not the observation only furnishes an addi-
belong to us. So that when I speak of tional argument in favour of those dis-
cause and efficient cause, I only mean tinctive epithets I wish to introduce.
certain affections of the mind that cause Had my excellent friend adopted my
certain changes in the body ; or certain suggestion, I cannot help thinking that
powers and properties in bodies that he would have reconciled some apparent
work a change in the mind. As if I inconsistencies which occur in his
were to explain the motion of a body later publications,and obviated some
falling to the ground, I would say it was of the cavils with which he has been
caused by gravity, and I would endea- assailed by his not always candid op-
vour to show after what manner this ponents.
power operated, without attempting to For various other observations which
show why it operated in this manner; appear to myself not unimportant on the
or if I were to explain the effects of 3ubject of this section, I beg leave to
bodies striking one another by the com- refer to the Second Volume of the Phi-
mon laws of percussion, I should not losophy of At Human Mind, Chap. IV.
endeavour to explain how motion itself sect. 1. \
Supra, p. 231, scq.]
is communicated. " — [Part IV. sect, i.]
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD—PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 29

" All things," says Dr. Clarke * " that are done in the world
are done either immediately by by created God himself, or
intelligent beings. Matter being evidently not capable of any
laws or powers whatsoever, any more than it is capable of in-
telligence, excepting only this one negative power, that every
part of it will of itself always and necessarily continue in that
state, whether of rest or motion, wherein it at present is. So
that all those things which we commonly say are the effects of
the natural powers of matter and laws of motion, of gravitation,
attraction, or the like, are indeed (ifwe will speak strictly and
properly) the effects of God's acting upon matter continually
and every moment, either immediately by himself, or me-
diately by some created intelligent beings. Consequently, . . .

there is no such thing as what we commonly call the course of

nature, or the power of nature. The course of nature, truly
and properly speaking, is nothing else but the will of God pro-
ducing certain effects in a continued, regular, constant, and
uniform manner which course or manner of acting being in
;

every moment perfectly arbitrary, is as easy to be altered at

1
any time as to be preserved."
Although, however, my opinion on this subject perfectly

coincides with that of Dr. Clarke, I must own that it has not
hitherto been the prevailing opinion among the learned, either
of ancient or of modern times. Many of the most celebrated
theories we meet with in the history both of physics and of

* The Evidences of Natural and never so much as take notice of it, but
[
Revealed Religion, Prop. xiv. — Works, suppose all along that matter has a real,
folio edit. Vol. II. p. 697. See other though subordinate and derived power."
passages to the same effect quoted above — Essays, Vol. II. p. 475. Edition of
in Works, Vol. III. p. 418, seq.] 1784.— [Note D ; p. 548, ed. 1788.]
1
In speakiDg of the theory of Occa- Mr. Hume was probably led to con-

sional Causes, Mr. Hume has committed nect, in this last sentence, the name of
an historical mistake, which I shall take Clarke with those of Locke and Cud-
this opportunity to correct. " Male- worth, by taking for granted that his
branche," he observes, " and other Car- metaphysical opinions agreed exactly
tesians, made the doctrine of the uni- with those commonly ascribed to Sir
versal and sole efficacy of the Deity the Isaac Newton. The above quotation
foundation of all their philosophy. It proves that, in fact, his opinion, in so far

Juxd, however, no authority in Eny- as matter is concerned, was the same

land. Locke, Clarke, and Cudwortb, with that of Malebranche.
 ;

30 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

metaphysics, have taken their rise from the zeal of philosophers

to elude this very conclusion, which appeared to them too ex-
travagant to merit a particular refutation. It was this idea
which gave birth to the scheme of Materialism to the Plastic ;

Nature of Cudworth to the Mechanical Theories of the Uni-

;

verse proposed by Descartes and Leibnitz; and to various

others equally gratuitous and not less extravagant. As these
theories are not yet entirely abandoned by philosophers, a
slight review of the most remarkable may be supposed neces-
sary for the complete illustration of this subject and I
;

shall accordingly allot for that purpose a Note at the end of

1
this volume.
The different hypotheses to which I have now alluded have
been adopted by ingenious men in preference to the simple and
sublime doctrine which supposes the order of the universe to be
not only at first established, but every moment maintained by
the incessant agency of one supreme mind, —a doctrine against
which no objection can be stated, but what is founded on pre-
judices resulting from our own imperfections. How far, indeed,
the events we see are actually produced by the immediate hand
of God, or how far he may avail himself of the instrumentality
of subordinate intelligences, it is impossible for us to determine
but of this we may rest assured, that when he chooses to com-
municate a certain measure of power to any of his creatures,
and employs their operation to accomplish the ends of his pro-
vidence, it is not because he is himself incompetent to the
magnitude, or to the multiplicity of the effects which take
place in the universe. And, therefore, the consideration of
these effects, how astonishing soever they may be, furnishes no
argument in favour of the theories which have already been
enumerated.
How powerfully the speculations of philosophers on this
subject have been influenced by prejudices suggested by the
analogy of human nature, appears from various passages both
in ancient and modern authors.
In the seventh chapter of the treatise Dc Mundo, ascribed
1
See Note A.
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 1.) 31

to Aristotle, the author represents

it as unbecoming the dignity

of the Supreme Being, avrovpyelv airavra, u to set his hand to

every thing.'' — " If
were not congruous in respect of the state
it

and majesty of Xerxes, the great king of Persia, that he should

condescend to do all the meanest offices himself, much less can
this be thought suitable in respect of God." Even Mr. Boyle,
one of the profoundest, and one of the most pious of our Eng-
lish philosophers, seems to have considered it as derogating
from the beauty and perfection of the universe, to suppose that
the Divine agency is constantly necessary to preserve it in
order, or that he is obliged to employ subordinate intelligences
to supply the defects of his mechanism. " It seems manifest

enough," according to him, u that whatsoever is done in the

world, at least where the rational soul intervenes not, is really
effected by corporeal causes and agents, according to the laws
settled by the Omniscient Author of things." And elsewhere
he observes, " That as it more recommends the skill of an
engineer to contrive an elaborate engine, so as that there need
nothing to reach his ends in it but the contrivance of parts
void of understanding, than if it were necessary that ever and
anon a discreet servant should be employed to concur notably
to the operations of this or that part, or to hinder the engine
from being out of order, so it more sets off the wisdom of God
in the fabric of the universe, that he can make so vast a
machine perform all those many things which he designed it
should, by the mere contrivance of brute matter managed by
certain laws of motion, and upheld by his ordinary and general
concourse, than if he employed from time to time an intelligent
overseer to regulate and control the motion of the parts."
1 —
" What may be the opinion of others," says Lord Karnes, " with

respect to this argument of Mr. Boyle, I cannot say, but to me

it is perfectly conclusive. Considering this universe as a great
machine, the workmanship of an intelligent cause, I cannot
avoid thinking it the more complete the less mending or inter-
position it requires. The perfection of every piece of work-
manship, human and divine, consists in its answering the
1
Inquiry into the Vulvar Notion of Nature.
 ;

32 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. HI. DUTIES TO GOD.

designed purpose, without bestowing farther labour upon

1
it."

The notions of the ancient Epicureans concerning the happi-

ness of the Deity, which they thought could not to be im- fail

paired by and the

the incessant cares unremitted exertions of a
superintending Providence, plainly took their rise from the
same source. They are beautifully expressed in the following
verses of Lucretius, where, by the way, he has artfully blended
various other topics of sceptical declamation not very consistent
with each other, nor with that just now mentioned.

" Nam (proh sancta Deum tranquilla pectora pace,

Quae placidum degunt aevum, vitamque serenam !)

Quis regere immensi sunimam, quis habere profundi

Indu manu validas potis est moderanter habenas ?
Quis pariter ccelos omneis convertere ? et omneis
Ignibus aetheriis terras suffire feraceis ?

Omnibus inque locis esse omni tempore praesto ?

Nubibus ut tenebras faciat, coelique serena
Concutiat sonitu ? turn fulmina mittat, et aedeis
Saepe snas disturbet, et in deserta recedens
Saeviat exercens telum, quod saepe nocenteis
Praeterit, exanimatque indignos inque merenteis ?" 2

The logical inconsistency of this passage (the poetical merit

of which cannot be too much admired) is sufficiently obvious.
For what is it that constitutes the astonishing sublimity of the
description ? What but the magnitude and the multiplicity of
those physical changes which the poet represents as every mo-
ment exhibited to our view ? And it is from this very magni-
tude and multiplicity in the phenomena that he infers the
impossibility of their being produced by God ; first, because
such an exertion would disturb the tranquillity of his repose
and secondly, because it exceeds the limits of his power. Surely
the greater the change, the more strongly does it evince the
necessity of a cause ; nor is it easy to conceive a more extra-

1
Essay on the Laws of Motion, published in the Essays, Physical and
Literary, of the Philosophical Society of Edinburgh.
* Lucretius, Lib. II. 1092.
 ! ; —

CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD— PBOOF A POSTERIORI. (§1.) 33

ordinary inference, than to deny that the cause exists, because

in degree it passes the bounds of our comprehension.
If the power of God be unequal to the accomplishment of all
these wonders, what other name shall we give to the mysterious
energy from which they proceed ? Grant only the reality of
this energy or active power, and you grant the necessity of mind
to account for the phenomena of the universe. And farther
than this I do not push our conclusions in this part of the
argument. 1
How much more philosophical than the lines just quoted
from Lucretius, I may add how much more sublime, is the
well-known passage of our English poet

" All are but parts of one stupendous whole,

Whose body Nature is, and God the soul

That changed through all, and yet in all the same,
Great in the earth as in the ethereal frame,
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ;

Lives through all life, extends through all extent,

Spreads undivided, operates unspent."*

1
Even Horace, in his graver mo- Dr. Copleston, (a very high authority,)
ments, bestows on the Epicurean sys- in his elegant and philosophical Prelec
tem the title of a mad philosophy, and tions on Poetry, pronounces it to be an
acknowledges its effects in unsettling ode " Sincero animi ardore et summa
his own mind. It is remarkable that he erga Deum pietate insignis." Preelec-
ascribes the revival of his old Stoical tion's Academicce Oxonii Hdbitce ab
impressions to some of those phenomena Edvardo Copleston, S. T. B., p. 278.
of nature from which Lucretius draws If (according to the very happy con-
an opposite conclusion. jecture of the Abbe Gagliani) this ode
" Parcus Deorum cultor et infrequens, is supposed to be merely the introduc-
INSANIBNTIS DUM 8APIENTI.S tion to the following one, Diva gra-
Consultus eeeo nunc retrorsum
:
tum quoz regis Antium, this union of the
Vela dare, atque iterare cursus
two odes will be found to bestow on
Cogor relictos. Namque Diespiter
Igni corusco nubila dividens
both much additional sublimity and
Plerumque, per purtim tonantes beauty See the Commentaircs Ine'dits
Egit equos volucremque currum ,• sur Horace, published in the second
Quo bruta tellus et vaga flumina, volume of the Melanges de Litter attire
Quo Styx," &c. &c
Carm. Lib. I. Ode xxxiv.
of M. Suard: Paris, 1804. — A spirited
translation of the two odes thus com-
This ode has been considered by'Da- bined may be found in the Lycee of La
cierand other critics as an ironical jeu Harpe, Vol. II. p. 358. et seq.
d'esprit levelled against the Stoical doc- * [Pope's Essay on Man, Ep. i.

trine of Providence. lam glad to find that 267.]

VOL. VII. C
 —

34 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. 111. DUTIES TO GOD.

This passage (as Dr. Joseph Warton has remarked) bears a

very striking analogy to a noble one in the old Orphic verses,
1
quoted in the Treatise Tlepl Koa/iov, ascribed to Aristotle j

and it is not a little some

curious that the same ideas occur iii

specimens of Hindoo poetry translated by Sir W. Jones, more

particularly in the Hymn to Narrayna, or the Spirit of God,
taken (as he informs us) from the writings of their ancient
authors.
" Omniscient Spirit, whose all-ruling power
Bids from each sense bright emanations beam,
2
Glows in the rainbow, sparkles in the stream," &c. &c. &c.

1 " The learned have been much of deep, if not of mystical devotion. The
divided in their opinions concerning this former tends to explain away the exist-
piece." See Warton's Essay on the ence of God, by identifying him with
Writings and Genius of Pope, Vol. II. matter ; the latter to give life and ex-
p. 168, and the authors there cited. pression to matter, by representing every
Dr. Walton's own opinion is, " that object as full of God.
the Treatise De Mundo ought to be The same mode of speaking occurs
ascribed to Aristotle, notwithstanding frequently in the Sacred "Writings, as
the different form of its composition.'' when it is said that " in God we live,

(Ibid.) But he gives no reason for and move, and have our being." It is
thinking so. thus also that thunder is called his voice,
The learned Meiners {Historia Doc- the wind his breath, and the tempest
trine de Veto Deo) decides with confi- the blast of his nostrils. Upon a 6ub
dence that Aristotle was not the author ject of this nature, it is impossible to
of and states particularly the grounds
it, express ourselves in a language which
of this decision. That this was also the is not more or less metaphorical ; but
opinion of Dr. Parr will be seen from the import of these metaphors must be
Note B. collected from the scope and spirit of

the reasonings with which they are con-

2
The lines above quoted from Pope nected. The theory of the Anima
have been censured by some writers as Mundi, how absurd and dangerous so-
savouring of Spinozism ; and the same ever, when pushed to its utmost logical
censure has been extended to various consequences, is certainly BUggested by
passages in the Seasons of Thomson, one of the most obvious and natural of
particularly to the hymn at the end. I all analogies —
that of our own frame ;

6uepect strongly that the authors of this and therefore it is but fair to put the
criticism have been but slightly ac- most favourable construction possible on
quainted with Spinoza's writings, other- the views of those who fust adopted it.

wise they would never haw confounded To com pais it to the Piinthtis}>i of Spi-

a system, which goes to the complete noza and his followers, betrays a dispo-
annihilation of every religious senti- sition to discredit the noblest passages
ment, with a doctrine which (although in the heathen moralists, and may per-
somewhat approaching to it in phraseo- haps lead to other inferences, of which
logy) has plainly originated in feelings the writers who have given
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 35

How indeed, the doctrine expressed in these lines is

far,

agreeable to truth, (at least in so far as it involves the suppo-

sition of the unity of Grod,) we are not yet warranted by any of
the reasonings I have stated to pronounce. I would only at
present remark the simplicity and the sublimity of the doc-
trine, —two recommendations which, on a subject of this nature,
furnish no inconsiderable presumptions that the doctrine is true.
For how is it possible to conceive that the limited powers of
man are able to imagine an order of things more simple and
sublime than what exists in reality ? Mr. Boyle, indeed, in the
passage formerly quoted from him, represents the supposition
of God's incessant agency as detracting from the perfection and
beauty of the universe, and appeals to those principles on which
we judge of the skill and ingenuity displayed in the structure
of a machine. But the illustration is by no means apposite.
The intention of a machine is to save labour, and therefore the
less frequently the interposition of the artist is necessary, the

more completely does the machine accomplish the end for which
it was made. These ideas surely do not apply to the works of
the Almighty. The multiplicity of his operations neither dis-
tracts his attention nor exhausts his power ; nor can we suppose
him reduced to number by call-
the necessity of abridging their
ing mechanism to his aid, without imputing to him the imper-
fections which mark our own circumscribed faculties and
dependent condition.

SECT. II. —OF THE ARGUMENT FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD

FROM FINAL CAUSES.*

Having treated at considerable length of the foundations of

our reasoning from the Effect to the Cause, and of the evidences

countenance to this comparison are not perceive anything approaching to Athe-

aware. ism. —
See Dissertation prefixed to the
- . Supplement to the Encyclopaedia Bri
sedes nisi terra, et pontus, ethmm ?r
.
Estne Dei afer, * «

Etcoelum. et virtus' 8uperos quid quseri- tannica, Part II. pp. 76, 77.— [bvpra.
mus ultra ? Works, Vol. L pp. 303-305.]
Jupiter est quodcunque vide?, quocunque
moveri9-" * [See supra, Elements, Sec. Vol. IT.

I pity the man who in these lines can chap. iv. sect. 6, pp. 835-857.]
 ;

36 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

of Active Power exhibited in the universe, I proceed now to

illustrate that principle of our nature which leads us to appre-
hend intelligence or design when we see a variety of means
conspiring to a particular end. In examining this part of our
constitution, my object is similar to what I had in view in the
speculations in which we have last been engaged, not to bring
to light any new or abstruse conclusion, but to vindicate against
the cavils of sceptics, a mode of reasoning that is equally
familiar to the philosopher and the vulgar, and which is net
more intimately connected with our religious belief than with
our rational conduct in the common business of life. What
this mode of reasoning is will be best explained by a few
examples :
—And for this purpose I shall avail myself of the
evidences for the existence of God which Socrates is said to
have appealed to in his conversation on this subject with Aris-
todemus, as it is related with an almost divine simplicity in the
1
Memorabilia of Xenophon.
" Tell me, Aristodemus, is there any man whom you admire
(

on account of his merit ?'

" Aristodemus having answered, many ;' name some of l — '

them, I pray you/

"
I admire,' said Aristodemus, Homer for his Epic Poetry
i
'
;

Melanippides for his Dithyrambics Sophocles for Tragedy ;

Polycletes for Statuary and Zeuxis for Painting.'

;

"'
But which seems to you most worthy of admiration, Aris-
—
todemus, the artist who forms Images void of Motion and In-
telligence, or one who hath the skill to produce animals that
are endued not only with activity, but understanding ?'
" c The latter, there can be no doubt/ replied Aristodemus,

1
" Je ne sais s'il y a aucune preuve vainquant et plus beau en faveur tie In
metaphysique plus frappante, et qui Divinite que celui de Pkton, qui fail
parle plus fortementa l'homme, que cet dire a un de ses intcrlocuteurs, '
Voua
ordre admirable qui regne dans lemonde; jogei quej'ai one Time intelligent* par-
et s'il jamais il y a eu on plus bel argu- ceque vous appercevez de l'ordre dans
ment que ce verset, Cceli enarrant Oh- mes paroles et dans mes actions, jugez

riam Dei. Aussi vous voyez, que New- done en vovant l'ordre de ce monde
ton n'en apporte point d'autrea la fin de qu'il y ;i one ame touverainement in-

non Oj>tique ct de ses Principes. line teUigente.'" — Voltaire, ElSment <1<;

tmuvoit point deraisonnemenl plus con- Philoiophie, Chap. I. De Dion,

 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD —PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§2.) 37

'
provided the production was not the effect of chance, but of
wisdom and contrivance.'
" {
But since there are many some of which we can
things,
easily see the use of, while we cannot say of others, to what
—
purpose they were produced, which of these, Aristodemus, do
you suppose the work of wisdom ?'
"
It should seem the most reasonable to affirm it of those
'

whose fitness and utility are so evidently apparent.'

"
But it is evidently apparent, that He who at the beginning
'

made man, endued him with Senses because they were good for
—
him, eyes wherewith to behold whatever was visible, and ears
to hear whatever was to be heard. For say, Aristodemus, to
what purpose should odours be prepared, if the sense of smell-
ing had been denied ? Or why the distinctions of bitter and
sweet, of savoury and unsavoury, unless a palate had been like-
wise given, conveniently placed, to arbitrate between them, and
declare the difference ? Is not that Providence, Aristodemus,
in a most eminent manner conspicuous, which, because the eye
of man is so delicate in its contexture, hath therefore prepared
eyelids like doors, whereby to secure it —which extend of them-
selves whenever it is needful, and again close when sleep
approaches ? Are not these eyelids provided as it were with a
fence on the edge of them, to keep off the wind and guard the
eye ? Even the eyebrow itself is not without its office ; but as
a pent-house is prepared to turn off the sweat, which, falling
from the forehead, might enter and annoy that no less tender
than astonishing part of us Is it not to be admired that the
!

ears should take in sounds of every sort, and yet are not too
much filled That the fore- teeth of the animal should
by them ?

be formed in such a manner as is evidently best suited for the

cutting of its food, as those on the side for grinding it in

pieces ? That the mouth through which this food is conveyed

should be placed so near the nose and the eyes as to prevent
the passing unnoticed whatever is unfit for nourishment ; while
nature, on the contrary, hath set at a distance, and concealed
from the senses, all that might disgust or any way offend
them ? And canst thou still doubt, Aristodemus whether a 1
 — —
;

38 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MOKAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

disposition of parts like this should be the work of chance, or

?'
of wisdom and contrivance
"
' I have no longer any doubt/ replied Aristodemus ;
(
and
indeed the more I consider more evident it appears to
it, the
me, that man must be the masterpiece of some great artificer,
carrying along with it infinite marks of the love and favour of
Him who hath thus formed it/
" '
And what thinkest thou, Aristodemus, of that desire in the
individual which leads to the continuance of the species ?
Of that tenderness and affection in the female towards her
young, so necessary for its preservation ? Of that unremitted
love of life, and dread of dissolution, which take such strong
possession of us from the moment we begin to be ?'
"1
1 think of them/ answered Aristodemus, as so ' many regu-
lar operations of the same great and wise artist, deliberately
determined to preserve what he hath once made/
" '
But farther, —unless thou desirest to ask me questions ;

seeing, Aristodemus, thou thyself art conscious of reason and

intelligence, supposest thou there no intelligence elsewhere ?
is

Thou knowest thy body to be a small part of that wide ex-

tended earth which thou everywhere beholdest ;
— the moisture
contained in it thou also knowest to be a small portion of that
mighty mass of waters whereof seas themselves are but a part
while the rest of the elements contribute out of their abundance
to thy formation. It is the soul then alone, —that intellectual

part of us ! which is come to thee by some lucky chance from, ;

I know not where if so be, ; there is indeed no intelligence

elsewhere. And we must be forced to confess that this stu-
pendous universe, with all the various bodies contained therein,
equally amazing, whether we consider their magnitude or
number, whatever their use, whatever their order, all have
!'
been produced, not by intelligence but chance
" *
It i6 with difficulty that I can suppose otherwise/ returned
Aristodemus, 'for I behold none of those gods whom you speak
of as making and governing all things whereas ; I see the
artists, when at their work, here among us/

Neither yet seest thou thy soul. Aristodemus, which, how-

li
'
 CHAP. II. EXISTENCE OF GOD PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 39

ever,most assuredly governs thy body ; although it may well

seem, by thy manner of talking, that it is chance, and not
reason which governs thee/
" '
I do not despise the gods/ said Aristodemus ;
'
on the con-
trary, I conceive so highly of their excellence, as to suppose
they stand in no need either of me or of my services.'
" Thou mistakest the matter, Aristodemus
' the greater ;

magnificence they have shown in their care of thee, so much

the more honour and service thou owest them/
" '
Be assured/ said Aristodemus,
l
if I once could be persuaded
the gods took care of man, I should want no monitor to remind
me of my duty/
" And canst thou doubt, Aristodemus, if the gods take care
'

of man Hath not the glorious privilege of walking upright

!

been alone bestowed on him, whereby he may, with the better

advantage, survey what around him contemplate with more
is ;

ease those splendid objects which are above and avoid the ;

numerous ills and inconveniences which would otherwise befall

him ? Other animals, indeed, they have provided with feet, by
which they may remove from one place to another but to man ;

they have also given hands, with which he can form many
things for his use, and make himself happier than creatures of
any other kind. A tongue hath been bestowed on every other
animal but what animal, excep't man, hath the power of form-
;

ing words with it, whereby to explain his thoughts, and make
them intelligible to others ? and to show that the gods have
had regard to his very pleasures, they have not limited them,
like those of other animals, to times and seasons, but man is

left to indulge in them whenever not hurtful to him/

"
But it is not with respect to the body alone that the gods
'

have shown themselves thus bountiful to man their most !

excellent gift is that soul they have infused into him, which so
far what is elsewhere to be found. For by what
surpasses
animal, except man, is even the existence of those gods dis-
covered, who have produced, and still uphold, in such regular
order, this beautiful and stupendous frame of the universe ?
What other species of creatures are to be found that can serve
40 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

—that can adore them ? What other animal

man, is able, like

to provide against the assaults of heat and cold, of thirst and

hunger ? that can lay up remedies for the time of sickness, and
improve the strength nature hath given by a well-proportioned
exercise ? that can receive like him, information and instruc-
tion ; or so happily keep in memory what he hath seen, and
heard, and learnt ? These things being so, who seeth not that
man is, as it were, a God in the midst of this visible creation ;

so far doth he surpass, whether in the endowments of soul or

body, all animals whatsoever that have been produced therein !

For if the body of the ox had been joined to the mind of man,
the acuteness of the latter would have stood him in small stead,
while unable to execute the well-designed plan ; nor would the
human form have been of more use to the brute, so long as it

remained destitute of understanding. But in thee ! Aristo-

demus, hath been joined to a wonderful soul a body no less

wonderful ; and sayest thou after this, " the gods take no
thought for me !" What wouldst thou, then, more to convince
thee of their care ?'
" c
I would they should send and inform me/ said Aristodemus,
1
what things I ought, or ought not to do in like manner as
;

thou sayest they frequently do to thee/

u
And what then, Aristodemus supposest thou, that when
' !

the gods give out some oracle to all the Athenians, they mean
it not for thee ? — by their prodigies, they declare aloud to all
If,

Greece, — to all —
mankind, the things which shall befall them,
—are they dumb to thee alone ? —And art thou the only person
whom they have placed beyond their care ? Believest thou they
would have wrought into the mind of man a persuasion of
their being able to make him happy or miserable, if so be they
—
had no such power ? Or would not even man himself, long
ere this, have seen through the gross delusion ? How is it, —
Aristodemus, thou rememberest, or remarkest not, that the
kingdoms and commonwealths, most renowned as well for their
wisdom as antiquity, are those whose piety and devotion hath
been the most observable ? and that even man himself is never
so well disposed to serve the Deity as in that part of life when
 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 41

reason bears the greatest sway, and his judgment supposed in

its full strength and maturity. Consider, my Aristodemus, that
the soul which resides in thy body can govern it at pleasure.
Why then may not the soul of the universe, which pervades
and animates every part of it, govern it in like manner ? If —
thine eye hath the power to take in many objects, and these
placed at no small distance from it, marvel not if the eye of
the Deity can, at one glance, comprehend the whole ? And as
thou perceivest it not beyond thy ability to extend thy care, at
the same time, to the concerns of Athens, Egypt, Sicily, why
thinkest thou, my Aristodemus, that the Providence of God
may not easily extend itself throughout the whole universe ?

As, therefore, among men we make best trial of the affection

and gratitude of our neighbour by showing him kindness, and
discover his wisdom by consulting him in our distress, do thou,
in like manner, behave towards the gods. And if thou wouldst
experience what their wisdom, and what their love, render
thyself deserving the communication of some of those divine
secrets which may not be penetrated by man, and are imparted
to those alone who consult, who adore, who obey the Deity.
Then shalt thou, my Aristodemus, understand there a Beingis

whose eye pierceth throughout all nature, and whose ear is

open to every sound ; extended to all place ; extending through
all timeand whose bounty and care can know no other bounds
;

than those fixed by his own creation !'

" By this discourse, and others of the like nature, Socrates

taught his friends that they were not only to forbear whatever
was impious, unjust, or unbecoming before men but even ;

when alone they ought to have a regard to all their actions,

since the gods have their eyes continually upon us, and none of
our designs can be concealed from them." 1
The evidence which the foregoing considerations afford for
the existence of God constitutes what is commonly called the
argument from Final Causes, and as the expression has the
sanction of use in its favour, we shall continue to employ it,

1
Xenophon's Memorabilia of So- [The reference to the original is Hook
crates. Translated by Sarah Fielding. I. chap. iv. sect. 2, seg.]
 —

42 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

notwithstanding its impropriety. It was first introduced by

Aristotle, who distinguished Causes into four kinds, the Effi-
cient, the Material, the Formal, and the Final :
—A distinction
which, as Dr. Reid justly observes, " like many other of
Aristotle's, is only a distinction of the various meanings of an
ambiguous word for the Efficient, the Matter, the Form, and
;

the End, have nothing common in their nature by which they

may be accounted species of the same genus* But the Greek
word which we translate cause had these four different mean-
ings in Aristotle's days, and we have added other meanings.
We do not indeed call the Matter or Form of a thing its cause ;

but we have Final causes, Second causes, Instrumental causes,

Immediate causes, Predisponent causes, and I know not how
many others/' 1

* [On Quod
— " Works
this in Reid's Collected Quid est propositum? invitavit
there is the following note :
They artificem, quod ille secutus fecit. Vel
have all this '
in common '
— that each is pecunia est hoc, si venditurus fabrica-
an antecedent, which not being, the con- vit ; vel gloria, si laboravit in nomen ;

sequent, called the effect, would not vel religio, si donum templo paravit.
be." — The passage is from The Active Ergo et haec causa est, propter quam fit.

Powers, Essay I. chap. vi. — Works, p. An non putas inter causas facti operis
526.— Ed.] numerandum, quo remoto factum non
1
This distinction of Aristotle's is essetV
illustrated by Seneca in his 65th Epistle Aristotle's own words on the subject
—" Causani Aristoteles putat tribus (Natur. Auscult. [L. II. c. iii.]) are thus

modis dici. Prima, inquit, causa est translated by Mr. Harris.

ipsa Materia, sine qua nihil potest effici. " In one manner that may be called
Secunda, Opifex. Tertia, Forma quae a Cause, out of which, existing as a part
unicuique operi imponitur, tanquam of it, anything is made or compounded.
statuae; nam hanc Aristoteles Idos (ElSos) Thus is brass the cause of a statue,
vocat. Quarta quoque, inquit, his ac- silver of a cup, and so also the higher
cedit, Propositum totius operis. genera in which these are included ;" (as
" Quid sit hoc, aperiam. JEs, prima metal the genus of brass and silver,

statuae causa est : nunquam enim facta body the genus including metal, &c.)
esset, nisi fuisset id, [Materies,] ex quo " In another way, the Form and Exem-

ea funderetur, ducereturve. Secunda plar of anything is its Cause that is to ;

causa, Artifex est: non potuisset enim say, in other words, the definition or
sea illud in habitum statuae figurari, rationale of its essence ;" (that which,
nisi accessissent peritae manus. Tertia characterizing it to be such t. particular
causa e6t Forma: neque enim statua ing, distinguishes it from all things
ibta Doryphoros aut Diadumenos voca- else " and of this rationale the several
;)

retur, nisi haec illi esset impressa facies. higher genera. Thus the cause of tho
Quarta causa e. t, faciondi Propositum: diapason or octave is the proportion of
nam nisi hoc fuisset, facta non esset. two to one; and more generally than
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 43

Dr. Reid has observed that the argument from Final Causes,
when reduced to a syllogism, contains two propositions. First,
that design may be traced from its effects : This is the major
proposition. The minor is, that there are appearances of de-
sign in the universe.* The ancient sceptics, he says, granted
the first, but denied the second. The moderns (in consequence
of the discoveries in natural philosophy) have been obliged to
abandon the ground which their predecessors maintained, and
have disputed the major proposition.
Among those who have denied the possibility of tracing
design from its effects, Mr. Hume is the most eminent ; and he
seems to have considered his reasonings on this subject as form-
ing one of the most splendid parts of his philosophy ; accord-
ing to him all such inferences are inconclusive, being neither
demonstrable by reasoning, nor deducible from experience.
In examining Mr.Hume's argument on this subject, Dr.
Reidf admits, that the inferences we make of design from its
effects, are not the result of reasoning or experience ; but still

he contends such inferences may be made with a degree of cer-

that, is number
and is moreover the
;
These quotations (in which I think

several parts out of which this defini- there is a great deal of what Dr. Priest-

tion is formed —
Add to this Cause, that ley somewhere calls solemn trifling,)

other, from whence the original principle appear to me to justify fully the criti-

of change, or of ceasing to change ; as cism I borrowed from Dr. Reid, that

for instance, the person who deliberates they amount only to an exposition of
is the cause of that which results from the different meanings of an ambiguous

such deliberation; the father is the word. I believe it would be for the ad-

cause of the son ; and, in general, the vantage of moral science if the phrase

Efficient of the thing effected, the power final cause were as completely banished
changing of the thing changed— Be- from our language as the phrases mate-
Bides these Causes there is that also rial and formal causes ;
but when modes
which is considered as the End, that is of expression arc sanctioned by universal

Cause for the sake ofxohich use, I do not consider myself as entitled
to say, the
the thing is done. Thus the cause of to lead the way in innovations. It is

exercising is health ; for if it be asked sufficient for me to caution my readers

why does he use exercise? we say to against the improprieties of common

preserve his health ;
and having said language, and to guard as far as I can

thus much, we have given the

we think against the errors in reasoning to which

proper cause."— Works of James Harris, they lead.

[Quarto edi- * [On the Intellectual Powers, Essay
Esq., Vol. I. pp. 156, 157.
tion.-Note xvii. on the First of The VI. chap, vl- Works, rP 460, 461.]
Three Treatises.] t P biH -l
44 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

tainty equal to what the human mind is able to attain in any

instance whatever. The opinions we form of the talents of
other men, nay, our belief that other men are intelligent beings,
are founded on this very inference of design from its effects.

Intelligenceand design are not objects of our senses and yet ;

we judge of them every moment from external conduct and be-

haviour, with as little hesitation as we pronounce on the exist-
ence of what we immediately perceive.
While Dr. Eeid contends in this manner for the authority of
this important principle of our constitution, he bestows due
praise on Mr. Hume for the acuteness with which he has ex-
posed the inconclusiveness of the common demonstrations of
the existence of a designing cause, to be found among the
writers on natural religion ; and he acknowledges the service
that, without intending it, he has thereby rendered to the cause
of truth inasmuch as, by the alarming consequences he de-
;

duces from his doctrine, he has invited philosophers to an

accurate examination of a subject which had formerly been
considered in a very superficial manner, and has pointed out to
them indirectly the true foundation on which this important
article of our belief ought to be placed. With the same view
it may be of some use, before we proceed farther, to confirm

such of Mr. Hume's principles as appear to be just, by some

additional remarks and illustrations.
First, then, it may be observed, (as a strong presumption that
our belief of the existence of a designing cause is not the result
of reasoning,) that it has prevailed in all nations and ages,
among the unlearned, as well as among the learned. Indeed,
without a capacity of inferring design from its effects, it would
be impossible for us to conduct ourselves in the common affairs

of life ; a consideration which of itself renders it probable to

those who are acquainted with the general analogy of our con-
stitution, that it is not entrusted to the slow and uncertain
exercise of our reasoning powers, but that it arises from some
intuitive perception of the mind.
In order to feel the full force of these observations, it is

necessary to consider, that without a capacity of inferring dc-

 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 45

sign from its effects, it would be impossible for us to form any

judgment of the intellectual powers, or of the characters of
other men, or even to know that they are intelligent beings.
The qualities in their minds are not objects of our senses, we
only perceive their effects ; but these effects indicate to us cer-
tain designsand purposes from which they proceed, as certainly
as an impression made on an organ of sense indicates the exist-
ence of the object. The inferences we make of intelligence and
design, as displayed in the universe, are perfectly analogous to
this ; and whatever sceptical doubts affect our conclusions in
the one case, are equally well founded in the other.
As a farther proof that this principle is not demonstrable,
we may remark, that those authors who have been most suc-
cessful in exposing the doubts of sceptics on the subject, have
had recourse not to argument, but to ridicule, and have rested
their cause chiefly on a view of the absurdities and inconsist-
encies into which similar doubts would lead us, if they were
extended to the common concerns of life :
—In a word, the only
proof they give of the principle, is by showing that no man can
call it in question, without justly exposing himself to the charge
of insanity.
" Hie ego non mirer esse quemquam, qui sibi persuadeat,
corpora quaedam solida atque individua vi et gravitate ferri,
mundumque effici ornatissimum et pulcherrimum ex eorum
corporum concursione fortuita ? Hoc qui existimat fieri potu-
isse, non intelligo, cur non idem putet, si innumerabiles unius
1
et viginti formae literarum vel aureae, vel quales libet, aliquo
conjiciantur, posse ex his in terram excussis annales Ennii, ut
deinceps legi possint, quod nescio an ne in uno quidem
effici ;

versu possit tantum valere fortuna. Isti autem qucmadmodum

asseverant, ex corpusculis non colore, non qualitate aliqua,

quam Troiorrjra Grasci vocant, non sensu praeditis, sed concur-
rentibus temere atque casu, mundum esse perfectum ? Vel in-

numerabiles potius in omni puncto temporis - alios nasci, alios

interire ? Quod si mundum efficere potest concursus atomo-

1
Ithas been thought by some that suggested the first idea of the art of
this passage of Cicero may have perhaps Printing by means of moveable types.
 ;

46 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWEK8. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

rum, cur porticum, cur templum, cur domum, cur urbem non
potest, qu89 sunt minus operosa et multo quidem faciliora ?
Certe ita temerS de mundo effutiunt, ut mihi quidem nunquam
hunc admirabilem cceli ornatum, qui locus est proximus, sus-
pexisse videantur." 1
So far, therefore, we agree with Mr. Hume, in admitting that
our inferences of design from its effects, are not the result of
reasoning. Still farther, we agree with him in admitting, that
these inferences are not the result of experience.
In proof of this it is sufficient to observe, that experience can
only inform us of what and not of what must be ; or, as Dr.
is,

Reid expresses it, experience can only discover to us what i6

contingently true ; it cannot in any instance lead us to the
knowledge of necessary truth.* Now, our belief that a com-
bination of means conspiring to a particular end implies in-
telligence, involves a perception of necessary truth. It is not
that such a combination has been always or generally found
to proceed from an intelligent cause, but that an intelligent
cause was necessary to its production, and that the contrary
supposition is absurd.
But farther, experience can only inform us of a connexion
between a sign and the thing signified, in those cases in which
both of these have been separate and distinct objects of our
perceptions ; but in the instance before us the thing signified is

not an immediate object of sense, nor indeed of consciousness

for even in my own case I perceive the existence of mind only
from its operations and effects. In other words, my knowledge
of the thing signified is not direct : it is only relative to the
signs by which it is suggested to the understanding.
In what manner, then, it may be asked, shall we explain the
origin of our conviction that the universe is the work of a de-
signing cause, be granted that this conviction is neither
if it

founded on reasoning nor on experience ? According to Mr.

1
De Nat. Dear. II. xxxvii. —Works, p. 323 ; Eesay VI. chap. vi.

* [Reid frequently, if not always con- — Works, pp. 455, 460 ;

Active Powers,
siRtently, enounces this truth. Thus, Essay I. chaps, iv ,
v. — Works, pp. 521,
Intellectual Power*, Essay II. chap. xix. 524.]
 —

CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 47

Hume, nothing more is necessary than these concessions to

show that it is an illusion of the imagination, or a prejudice of
the nursery.
But surely the inference is too hasty ; for are there not many
truths, the contrary of which we feel to be impossible, which
are neither demonstrable by reasoning, nor confirmed by ex-
perience ? Such are all those truths which are perceived by an
intuitive judgment of the mind. The authority of these truths
is at least on a footing with those truths which rest on demon-
stration, inasmuch as all demonstration is ultimately founded
on them and it is incomparably superior to that of truths
;

learned from experience, inasmuch as the contrary of these is

always conceivable, and never implies any absurdity or contra-
diction.
From the observations already made in the prosecution of

this argument, I flatter myself it sufficiently appears, that if

there be such a thing as an intuitive perception or judgment of

the mind, the inferences we make of design from its effects are
entitled to the appellation. A capacity of forming such infer-
ences is plainly an essential part of our constitution ; and to
dispute their certainty in the common conduct of life, by urging
sceptical subtilties in opposition to them, would expose a man
to the charge of insanity, as infallibly as if he were to dispute
1
the certainty of a mathematical axiom.
1
The foregoing observations have hero of the dialogue, and is to be under-
been all touched upon by former writers. stood as speaking Mr. Hume's own
What follows has not hitherto (so far opinions. — (See a Confidential Letter of
as I know) been urged in opposition to his to his friend Sir Gilbert Elliot, which
Mr. Hume, and to my mind is more I have published in the second volume
satisfactory than any view of the sub- of the Philosophy of the Human Mind,
ject that has yet been taken by his [Note C. — Works, Vol. III. p. 372, seq.
opponents. It is, however, after all, Likewise Works, Vol. I. pp. 603-607.]
little more than a comment on some — See also the concluding paragraph of
concessions made in the course of the the Dialogue.) I think it fair to recall
argument by the sceptical Philo of ; this to the reader's memory, as the
which concessions I think his opponent, reasonings of Philo have been repeatedly
Cleanthes, might have availed himself quoted as parts of Hume's Philosophical
more triumphantly than he has done. System, although the words of Shylock
(See Mr. Hume's posthumous Dialogues and Caliban might with equal justice
on Natural Beligion.) It must always be quoted as speaking the real senti-
be remembered that the latter is the ments of Shakespeare.
 —
48 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

But leaving these abstract topics, let us for a moment attend

to the scope of the sceptical argument as it bears on the evi-
dences of Natural Religion. To those who examine it with
attention it must appear obvious, that, if it proves anything, it

leads to this general conclusion, that it would be perfectly im-

possible for the Deity, if he did exist, to exhibit to man any
satisfactory evidence of design by the order and perfection of
his works. That every thing we see is consistent with the sup-
position of its being the work of an intelligent author, Philo
would (I presume) have granted and at any rate, supposing
;

the order of the universe to have been as complete as imagina-

tion can conceive, would not obviate in the least the objection
it

stated in the dialogue, inasmuch as this objection is founded

not on any appearances of disorder or imperfection, but on the
impossibility of rendering intelligence and design manifest to
our faculties by the effects they produce. Whether this logical
proposition is or is not true, can be decided only by an appeal
to thejudgment of the human understanding in analogous cir-
cumstances. If I were thrown ashore on a desert island, and
were anxious to leave behind me some memorial which might
inform those who should afterwards visit the same spot, that it
had once been inhabited by a human being, what expedient
could I employ but to execute some work of art to rear a ;
—
dwelling, to enclose a piece of ground, or to arrange a number
of stones in such a symmetrical order that their position could
not be ascribed to chance ? This would surely be a language
intelligible to all nations, whether civilized or savage; and
which, without the help of reasoning, would convey its mean-
ing with the force of a perception. It was thus that Aristippus
the Cyrenaic (according to the story told by Vitruvius)
felt

when, being shipwrecked on an unknown coast, and seeing some

geometrical diagrams traced on the sand, he called aloud to
his companions, Bene speremus, comites, homlnum enim ves-

tigia video.
Now all seems wonderfully applicable to the subject
this
before us. If the universe had really been created by a power-
ful and intelligent being, whose pleasure it was to proclaim
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD —PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 49

to human reason his existence and attributes, what means could

have been devised more effectual for this purpose than those
actually employed ! A display of order, of beauty, of contriv-
ance, obvious to the apprehensions of the most unlearned, and
commanding more and more our admiration and our wonder as
our faculties improve, and as our knowledge extends. These
evidences of power, of wisdom, and of goodness may be regarded
as natural and universal signs by which the Creator reveals
himself to his creatures. There is accordingly, " No speech —
where their voice is not heard. Their line is gone through all
the earth, and their words to the end of the world."*
That in these remarks I have done no injustice to Philo's
reasoning, appears from a remarkable passage which occurs in
a subsequent part of the dialogue, where, in my opinion, he
yields without reserve the only point for which it was of much
importance for a sceptic to contend. The logical subtleties
formerly quoted about experience and belief, (even supposing
them to remain unanswered,) are but little calculated to shake
the authority of principles on which we are every moment
called on to act in the business of life. I shall transcribe in
Philo's words the passage I allude to, premising only, that, for
this memorable concession, (so contrary in its spirit to the
sceptical cavils of the ancient Epicureans,) we are chiefly in-
debted to the lustre thrown on the order of nature by the
physical researches of the two last centuries.
" Supposing there were a God who did not discover himself

immediately to our senses, were it possible for him to give

stronger proofs of his existence than what appear on the whole
face of nature ? What indeed could such a divine being do
but copy the present economy of things ; render many of his
artifices so plain that no stupidity could mistake them ; afford
glimpses of still greater artifices which demonstrate his prodi-
gious superiority over our narrow apprehensions, and conceal
altogether a great many from such imperfect creatures ?' n
Another concession extorted from Philo by the discoveries of
modern science is still more important. I need not point out
* \ Psalm, xix. 3, 4.] » Dialogues on Natural Religion, y. 232, [Part xii]
VOL. VII. D
 — ;
;

50 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

its coincidence with some remarks already made :

" A purpose,
an intention, a design, strikes everywhere the
most careless,
the most stupid thinker, and no man can be so hardened in
absurd systems as at all times to reject it. That nature does
nothing in vain, is a maxim established in all the schools,
merely from the contemplation of the works of nature, without
any religious purpose ; and from a firm conviction of its truth,
an anatomist who had observed a new organ or canal would never
be satisfied till he had also discovered its use and intention. One
great foundation of the Copernican system is the [Aristotelic]
maxim, That nature acts by the simplest methods, and chooses the
most proper means to any end ; and astronomers often, without
thinking of it, lay this strong foundation of piety and religion.
The same thing is observable in other parts of philosophy and ;

thus all the sciences almost lead us insensibly to acknowledge a

first intelligent author ; and their authority is often so much
the greater, as they do not directly profess that intention/' 1

" But," (says Mr. Hume in one of his Philosophical Essays,)

" it is only when two species of objects are found to be con-
stantly conjoined that we can
from the other infer the one
and were an effect presented which was entirely singular, and
could not be comprehended under any known species, I do not
see that we could form any conjecture or inference at all con-
cerning its cause. If experience and observation and analogy
be indeed the only guides which we can reasonably follow in
inferences of this nature, both the effect and cause must bear a
similarity and resemblance to other effects and causes which
we know, and which we have found in many instances to be
2
conjoined with each other/' If I understand the scope and
1
Dialogues on Natural Religion, p. Mr. Hume's own opinion, more particu-
228, [Part xii.] larly as he has introduced the section
2
Hume's Essays, Vol. II. p. 157. with the following paragrnph " I was :
—
[Inquiry concerning Human Under- lately engaged in conversation with a
standing, Sect. xi. at end.] friend who loves sceptical paradoxes
As the discourse from which this where, though he advanced many prin-
passage is taken is composed in the ciples of which I can by no means
form of a dialogue, I do not feel myself approve, yet as they seem to be curious,
entitled to suppose that it expresses and to bear some relation to the chain of
 —

CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 51

import of this reasoning, nothing more is necessary for its

refutation but to explain its meaning. To what, then, does it
amount ? That if we had been accustomed
Merely to this !
"

to see worlds produced, some by design, and others without it,

and had observed that such a world as this which we inhabit
was always the effect of design, we might then, from past
experience, conclude that it was in this way our world was
produced but having no such experience we have no means
;

1
of forming any conclusion about it."

The argument, it is manifest, proceeds entirely on the sup-

position, that our inferences of design are in every case the
result of experience, the contrary of which has been already
sufficiently shown; and which indeed, (as Dr. Reid has re-
marked,*) " if it be admitted as a general truth, leads to this
conclusion, that no man can have any evidence of the existence
2
of any intelligent being but himself."

Having said so much with respect to the sceptical objections

suggested in Mr. Hume's philosophy against the argument
from Final Causes, I proceed to consider another objection
which some other philosophers have urged with similar views.
In order to judge of the wisdom of any design it is necessary
(they observe) to know, first, what end the artist proposes to
himself, and then to examine the means which he has employed
to accomplish it. But in the universe all we see is, that cer-
tain things are accomplished, without having an opportunity
of comparing them with a plan previously proposed. A stone
reasoning carried on throughout this 2
in- See some remarks on this subject
quiry, I shall here copy them from my by Dr. Beattie. Essay on Truth, Part
memory as accurately as I can, in order I. chap. ii. § 2. Some of them indeed
to submit them to the judgment of the refer rather to our inferences of causa-
reader." From these words it may at tion and power, than of intelligence and
Mr. Hume thought
least be inferred that design but the objection in question
;

the paradox worthy of consideration, applies equally to our inferences in both

and therefore it would be improper to cases, and Dr. Beattie's answer is no
pass it over here entirely in silence. less satisfactory in the one than in the
1
Reid, [Intellectual Powers, Essay other.
VI. chap. vi. — Works, p. 461.] " It is true the universe is, as one
* [See InteUectual Poioers, Essay VI. may say, a work sui generis,'" &c. — P.
chap, v.— Works, p. 449] 117, 2d edit.— [Ibid. § 5.]
52 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

thrown at random must necessarily hit one object or another.

When we see, therefore, such an effect produced we are not
entitled, independently of other information, to praise the dex-
terity of the marksman. It is possible indeed that this was the
object he was aiming at, but as any other supposition is equally
possible, it is evident that before we can judge of his skill we
must be assured that this really was the case from his own
authority.
To this objectionmight perhaps be a sufficient answer to
it

observe, that although from a single effect we may not be

entitled to infer intelligence in the cause, yet when we see a
number of causes conspiring to one end the case is different.
We here see not only that an effect takes place, but have an in-
tuitive conviction that this was the very effect intended. From
seeing a single stone strike an object, we may not be entitled
to conclude that this was the object aimed at. But what con-
clusion would we draw if we saw the same object invariably
hit by a number of stones thrown in succession ? Surely we
should conclude that this was not merely the work of chance.
But this is not all. A variety of cases might be mentioned, in
which we have really an opportunity of comparing the wisdom
of nature with the ends to which it is directed. Of this many
remarkable instances occur in the economy of the human body.
When any accident or disease injures the human frame, it is
well known that the body possesses within itself a power of
alleviating or remedying the evil. In consequence of this
power, (which has been called the Vis Medicatrix nature*,) it
happens that whenever the structure or functions of any part of
the body are disturbed, such operations are immediately excited
as have a tendency to restore the machine to its former state.
If any of the solid parts of the body are divided in consequence
of suppuration, wounds, or otherwise, the cavity is in time filled

up and obliterated by the operation of natural causes. The

breach in the internal parts is remedied, and the wound is
gradually covered with a new skin. In many cases, too, in

which parts are destroyed, efforts are made by nature to repair

the injury. In this manner the skin, tendons, ligaments, am

 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 53

various other parts of the body, are restored after having been
destroyed. Even bones are restored ; not only in cases of frac-
ture, but sometimes a new bone has been formed even when
the old one was entirely taken away. In all these instances we
not only see an effect produced, but we see the efforts of nature
directed to a particular end ; inasmuch as, after being turned
out of her ordinary course, she comes back to it again without
any assistance from art.

There are, too, a great variety of cases, particularly in the

animal economy, in which we see the same effect produced in
different instances by very different means and in which, of ;

consequence, we have an opportunity of comparing the wisdom

of nature with the ends she has in view. " Art and means/
says Baxter, " are designedly multiplied, that we might not
take it for the effects of chance And in some cases the method
:

itself is different, that we might see it is not the effect of surd

necessity." 1 —
" I shall stop," says Derham, " at one prodigious
work of nature and manifest contrivance of the Creator, and
that is the circulation of the blood in the foetus in the womb, so
different from the method thereof after it is born/'*
The following ingenious remarks of Mr. Eay may be of use
for the more complete illustration of the same argument.
" Man is always mending and altering his works but nature ;

observes the same tenor, because her works are so perfect that
there is no place for amendments, nothing that can be repre-
hended. The most sagacious men in so many ages have not
been able to find any flaw in these divinely contrived and
formed machines no blot or error in this great volume of the
;

world, as if anything had been an imperfect essay at the

first ; nothing that can be altered for the better ; nothing
but if it were altered would be marred. This could not
have been had man's body been the work of chance, and not
counsel and providence. Why should there be constantly the
same parts ? Why should they retain constantly the same
places ? Why should they be endued with the same shape and
1
Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul, Vol. I. p. 136. Third edition [and
Second, Note. Sect. IT. § xvi] * \Physico- Theology, Book IV. chap, iv.]
 ;

54 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

figure ? Nothing so contrary as constancy and chance. Should

I see a man throw the same number a thousand times together
upon but three dice, could you persuade me that this were acci-
dental, and that there was no necessary cause of it ? How
much more incredible, then, is it that constancy in such a
variety, such a multiplicity of parts, should be the result of
chance ? Neither yet can these works be the effects of ne-

cessity or fate, for then there would be the same constancy

observed in the smaller as well as in the larger parts of vessels;
whereas there we see nature doth as it were sport itself, the
minute ramifications of all the vessels, veins, arteries, and
nerves, infinitely varying in individuals of the same species, so
1
that they are not in any two alike/'
The foregoing passage I quote with the greater confidence,
as I find that the most eminent and original physiologist of the
present age has been led, by his enlightened researches con-
cerning the laws of the animal economy, into a train of think-
ing strikingly similar.
u Nature/' says Baron Cuvier, " while comprising herself
strictly within those limits which the conditions necessary for
existence prescribe to her, has yielded to her spontaneous fecun-
dity wherever these conditions did not limit her operations
and without ever passing beyond the small number of combi-
nations that can be realized in the essential modifications of the
important organs, she seems to have given full scope to her
fancy in filling up the subordinate parts. With respect to these,
it is not inquired whether an individual form, whether a parti-
cular arrangement, be necessary. It seems often not to have
been asked, whether it be even useful in order to reduce it to

practice. It is sufficient that it be possible, that it destroy not

the harmony of the whole. Accordingly, as we recede from the
principal organs, and approach to those of less importance, the
varieties in structure and appearance become more numerous ;

and when we arrive at the surface of the body, where the parts
the least essential, and whose injuries are the least momentous,
are placed, the number of varieties is so great, that the oon-
1
Kay's Wisdom of God in the Creadon, [Part R.]
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD —PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 55

joined labours of naturalists have not yet been able to give us

an adequate idea of them." 1
The science of comparative anatomy, too, furnishes very
striking confirmations of the foregoing doctrine. From seeing
the effect produced in any one animal, we might not perhaps
be entitled to conclude that was in order to produce this effect
it

that the organ was contrived. But when, in the case of differ-
ent species of animals, we see the same effect brought about by
means extremely different, it is impossible for us to doubt that
it was this common end which, in all these instances, nature

had in view. And, by the way, it is such comparative views of

the structure of different tribes, that afford the best lights for
guiding our researches concerning the functions of the different
organs in the animal economy. " Incidenda autem animalia,"
(says Albinus, in his preface to Harvey's Exercitatio de Motu
Cordis,) " quibus partes ilia? quarum actiones quaerimus eaedem
atque homini sunt, aut certe similes iis ; ex quibus sine metu
error is judicare de illis hominis liceat. Quin et reliqua, si modo
aliquam habeant ad hominem similitudinem, idonea sunt ad
aliquod suppeditandum."
The coincidence between these last observations and the fol-

lowing passage from an anonymous writer, who seems to have

made comparative anatomy his particular study, gives me much
additional faith in their justness. " The intention of nature,"
he observes, " can nowhere be so well learned as from compara-
tive anatomy ; that is, if we would understand physiology, and
reason on the functions in the animal economy, we must see
how the same end is brought about in other species. We must
contemplate the part or organ in different animals, its shape,
position, connexion with the other parts, Ac, and observe what
thence arises. If we find one common effect constantly pro-
duced (though) in a very different way, then we may safely
conclude that this is the use or function of the part. This
reasoning can never betray us, if we are but sure of the facts." 2

1
Lec/ms d'Anatomie Comparee. (The sequel of the above passage de-
2
Letter prefixed to Monro's Compa- serves also to be consulted.)
rative Anatomy. London, 1744.
56 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

In comparing the anatomy of different tribes of animals, we

find that the differences we observe in their structure have a
reference to their way of life, and the habits for which they are
destined so that from knowing the latter we might be able, in
;

particular cases, to frame conjectures a priori concerning the

former. Thus all animals that live on vegetable food have
their small guts considerably larger, and their great guts more
capacious, than such as feed on other animals. The latter,

again, have their bladder more strong and muscular, and less

capacious, than those that live on vegetable food, such as horses,

cows, swine, &c, whose bladder of urine is perfectly membran-
ous, and very large. In both of these cases, the differences have
a manifest reference to the kinds of food on which the animal
is to subsist.
" In all animals," — says Cuvier, of whose high" authority on
physiological subjects I am always glad to avail myself, and
whose indefatigable researches in comparative anatomy have
shed a new blaze of light on the marks of systematical design
in the animal kingdom,
—
" in all animals the system of digestive
organs has direct relations to the organs of motion and of sen-
sation for the structure and disposition of the digestive organs
;

necessarily determines the kind of aliment proper for every spe-

cies of animals ; and it is obvious, that, if the senses and organs
of motion in any species of animals be insufficient to distinguish
and procure for them their proper aliment, that species of ani-
mals cannot subsist.
" Thus, animals who can digest nothing but flesh must,
under the penalty of inevitable destruction, be able to discern
their prey at a distance, to pursue it, to catch it, to get the
better of it, to tear it to pieces. They must, therefore, possess
a piercing eye, an acute sense of smell, swiftness in pursuit,
address and force in the organs for catching their prey. Ac-
cordingly, canine teeth, adapted to tear flesh, were never found
iu the same animal along with a hoof fit for supporting the
weight of the body, but totally unqualified for laying hold of
prey. Hence the rule that every hoofed animal is herbivorous ;

and as corollaries from this general principle, the maxims that

 CHAP. II.— EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 57

a hoofed foot indicates grinding teeth with flat surfaces, a long

alimentary canal, a large stomach, and often more stomachs
than one, with many other similar consequences.
" The same harmony among the different parts of
subsists
the system of organs of motion. As all the parts of this system
act mutually, and are acted upon, especially when the whole
body of the animal is in motion, the forms of all the different
parts are strictly related. There is hardly a bone that can
vary in its surfaces, in its curvatures, in its protuberances,
without corresponding variations in other bones ; and in
this way a skilful naturalist, from the appearance of a single
bone, will be often able to conclude, to a certain extent,
with respect to the form of the whole skeleton to which it
1
belonged."
From the foregoing observations I hope it sufficiently ap-
pears that design may be inferred from its effects, and in
particular, that design may be traced in various parts of the
universe from an actual examination of the means which
nature employs when she is evidently aiming at a certain end.
I now proceed to consider more particularly the characters of
this design as it is displayed in the universe ; or, in other
words, to consider how far the design seems to indicate wisdom,
and whether seems to operate in conformity to one uniform
it

plan. Thejlrst inquiry is useful by its tendency to elevate our

conceptions of the Supreme Being, and the second is necessary
for the demonstration of his unity. The first inquiry may per-
haps seem to some to be involved in the preceding reasonings,
but the case is otherwise ; for the words design and wisdom
are by no means synonymous
and it is possible that a philoso-
;

pher may grant that there are marks of design in the universe,
who thinks but meanly of the wisdom displayed in its forma-
tion. This was the case with King Alphonso, [of Castile,] when

he ventured to censure the planetary system, (according to the

1
Lemons d Anatomie
1
Comparee. of animated beings, much valuable in-
On these and various other instances struction may be derived from an Essay
of wise contrivance in the system of on Final Causes by the Honourable
uature, more particularly in the frame Robert B<y!e.
58 PHIL0S0PI1Y OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

conceptions which astronomers then entertained of it,) as a con-

trivance whicli admitted of important improvements. Distinct,
however, as these two inquiries are, they have often been con-
founded by sceptical writers, who imagined that every little
criticism they were able to make on the course of events, either
in the physical or moral world, furnished an argument in favour

of atheism.
I cannot help remarking, on the other hand, that the same
distinction between design and wisdom has been overlooked by
many of the excellent writers who have employed their genius
in defending and illustrating the truths of natural religion.
Of those who have speculated on the subject of Final Causes,
the greater number seem plainly to have considered every new
conjecture they were able to form concerning the ends and uses
of the different objects composing the universe, and of the
general laws by which its phenomena are regulated, as an addi-
tional proof that it is not the work of chance or necessity and ;

to have imagined that the greater the number of such ends and
uses they were able to trace, the more irresistible they rendered
the evidences of design and intelligence. But it appears to me
that the evidences of design in the universe are alike obvious
to the savage and and that they are much
to the philosopher ;

more forcibly impressed on the minds of those whose under-

standings have been perverted by sceptical sophistry, by general
views of nature, than by examining her works in detail. Or if
any person should think otherwise, it must at least be granted
that any one organized and animated body furnishes just as
complete evidence of this truth as could be obtained from the
most accurate examination of all the different subjects of
natural history. The proper use of such speculations is not to
refute the atheist, but to illustrate the wisdom and the unity of
design displayed in the material and moral worlds ; or rather
to enlighten and exalt our own understandings, by tracing with
humility and reverence the operations of a wisdom which is
infinite and divine. If there be an J principle whatever which
i philosopher is entitled to take for granted, it is certainly this,
that there arc marka of design in the objects around us and in
 ;

CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 59

our own frame ; and to write large volumes in order to prove

it is an insult to human
to offer reason. In the observations,
accordingly, which I have made on the subject, I have not
thought it necessary for me to offer any positive evidences in
support of this belief, but have only aimed at refuting the scep-
tical cavils by which some have attempted to weaken it. To
those who had never read, or who were never likely to read,
such metaphysical speculations as those of Mr. Hume, I should
not have thought of addressing one metaphysical argument
satisfied as I am that disquisitions of this kind, however useful
they may be in combating other disquisitions of a similar nature,
can never add to the authority of the original laws of human
belief. The science of abstruse learning I consider in the same
light with an ingenious writer, who compares it to " Achilles's
spear, that healed the wounds it had made before. It serves
to repair the damage itself had occasioned, and this is perhaps
all it is good for. no additional light upon the paths
It casts
of life, but disperses the clouds with which it had overspread
them before. It advances not the traveller one step in his
journey, but conducts him back again to the spot from whence
he wandered." 1
I would not be understood by these remarks to detract from
the merit of the authors to whom they refer. I only complain
of the form, in which they have presented their observations to
the world, as demonstrations that a designing cause, or design-
ing causes exist, and not as an humble attempt to display to
those who are already impressed with this conviction, a few of
those manifold indications of beneficent wisdom which the
Author of all Things has been pleased for our instruction to
place within the reach of our researches. Many of the obser-
vations which they have collected in the course of their in-
quiries are of inestimable value, but they have been frequently
applied to an improper purpose, and hence very serious incon-
veniences have arisen. Among these inconveniences there are
two of such magnitude, that I think it of importance to state
them explicitly.
1
Mr. [Abraham] Tucker, author of The Light of Nature Pursued.
GO PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

1st, The and number of the publications in question,

size

have led superficial thinkers to imagine that the existence of

God was a truth which required a multiplicity of proofs and ;

in consequence of this apprehension they have found their faith

in it rather weakened than confirmed. While, on the other
hand, those who were already convinced of this truth have
turned aside with disgust from the perusal of so tedious a de-
monstration, leading to so obvious a conclusion. No expedient
more effectual could have been devised for destroying that in-

terest which the mind spontaneously takes in the details of

natural philosophy and natural history, than to state them
merely as premises subservient to the proof of the most incon-
testable of all propositions. Whereas, if the existence of an
Intelligent Cause be taken for granted, and if we study his
works not as proofs of design, but as manifestations of his
wisdom, and revelations of his will, these branches of know-
ledge open inexhaustible sources of instruction and of delight
to the mind. In the works of God we study the operations of
his wisdom and goodness, as we study in the conduct and dis-

course of our fellow-creatures the peculiarities of their genius

and characters ; and, in proportion as our knowledge extends,
we find our acquaintance with the plans of his Providence
become more intimate, and our conceptions of his nature more
elevated and sublime.
2d, When weaccumulate a number of particular observa-
tions as proofs of the existence of an Intelligent Cause, we rest
this important principle on a ground extremely open to the
cavils of sceptics. In most cases, when we speculate concern-
ing Final Causes, we are unable to do more than to suppose and
to conjecture, and we are extremely apt, by indulging imagina-
tion too far, to bring ridicule on the cause wo moan to support.
Sometimes too has happened that conjectures, which at first
it

appeared extremely plausible, have been afterwards discovered

to proceed on a misapprehension of facts. Such accidents
never fail to furnish matter of triumph to the sceptic, as if the
mistakes to wliieh our limited t;i« -uities are liable in studying
the works of God afforded any just ground for ascribing them
 — :

CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 61

to chance, or to an unintelligent necessity. 1 But if, on the

other hand, we acquiesce in those evidences of design, which a
general survey of nature affords to the most common observer,
the mistakes we may commit in the subsequent examination of
her works, will have no effect in suggesting doubts or scruples
with respect to the truths of religion ; but impressed with a
firm conviction that nothing made in vain, we will consideris

every difficulty we meet with as a new lesson of humility to

ourselves, and a new illustration of the unsearchable wisdom
displayed in the universe.
I thought it proper to premise these general reflections to
the remarks I am now to make, in order to point out the par-
ticular purpose to which I mean to apply them, not as proofs —
that there exist designing and intelligent causes in nature, but
as illustrations of that unity of design which connects together
things the most remote and apparently insulated as parts of
one system, and of that infinite wisdom which contrived and
'which superintends the whole.
A farther purpose may perhaps be answered by
some of these
remarks, if I am only able to state them in such a manner as
to rouse the attention to those vonders around us and within
us, which are apt to lose their effect in consequence of long
familiarity. " Assiduitate quotidiana," says Cicero, cc
et con-
suetudine oculorum, assuescunt animi : neque admirantur,
neque requirunt rationes earum rerum, quas semper vident
proinde quasi novitas nos magis quam magnitudo rerum
debeat ad exquirendas causas excitare." 2 And to the same
purpose the poet :

1
Diderot seems to have thought, that de rapports dans un etre, pour avoir nn
one single defect in the universe in point certitude complete qu'il est l'ouvrage
of systematical order, would conclude d'un artiste. En quelle occasion, vn
more strongly against the existence of sevl defavt de symmetrie prouveroit plus
the Deity than all the relations yet ob- que toute somme donnee de rapports."
served among its different parts would — (See the article Beau in the Encyclo-
prove in its favour. " La nature imite, pedie.) This paradox is too extrava-
en se jouant, dans cent occasions, les gant to admit of a serious answer,
productions dart; et Ton pourroit de-
mander combien il faudroit remarquer
2
De Nat. Deor. II. xxxviii.
 "

G2 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

" Hunc solem et Stellas et decedentia certis

Tempora momentis, sunt qui forruidine nulla

Imbuti 6pectent."*

In such cases it is not necessary to teach men to reason, but

to teach them to attend; to induce them to reflect on the
objects and events which are daily presented to their view, and
to listen to the natural suggestions of their own understand-
ings. The supposition which Cicero quotes from Aristotle in
speaking on this very subject is finely imagined. " Praeclare

Aristoteles, si essent (inquit) '

qui sub terra semper habitavissent,
bonis et illustribus domiciliis, quae essent ornata signis atque
picturis, instructaque rebus iis omnibus, quibus abundant ii,

qui beati putantur, nee tamen exissent umquam supra terram :

accepissent autem fama et auditione, esse quoddam numen et

vim Deorum : deinde aliquo tempore, patefactis terrae faucibus,
ex illis abditis sedibus evadere in haec loca, quae nos incolimus,
atque exire potuissent : cum repente terram et maria cael uni-

que vidissent ; nubium magnitudinem, ventorumque vim cog-

no vissent, adspexissentque solem, magnitudinem ej usque turn
pulchritudinemque, turn etiam eflficientiam cognovissent, quod
is diem efneeret, toto caelo luce diffusa cum autem terras nox :

opacasset, turn caelum totum cernerent astris distinctum et or-

natum, lunaeque luminum varietatem, turn crescentis, turn
senescentis, eorumque omnium ortus et occasus, atque in omni
aeternitate ratos immutabilesque cursus :
— haec cum viderent,
profectd et esse Deos, et haec tanta opera Deorum esse arbi-
1
trarentur.'

The following considerations (the greater part of which I

must content myself with barely mentioning) tend chiefly to
illustrate the wisdom and unity of design manifested in the
universe, from a view of the relations which different parts of
nature bear to each other, and from the concurrence of things
apparently unconnected and even remote, in promoting the
same benevolent purposes.

• [Hornet, Ej.iat. Lib. I. Ep. vi B.|

1
/V Xat Per II xxx vii
 CHAP. IT. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 63

(1.) Adaptation of the bodies and of the instincts of animals

to the laws of the material world. Of the organs of respira-
tion, for example, and of the instinct of suction to the pro-

perties of the atmosphere ; of the sensibility of the eye to the

momentum of light, and of the structure of that organ to the
laws of refraction; of the size and strength of animals and
vegetables to the laws of gravitation and of cohesion.
I mentioned in the first place, the adaptation of the organs
of respiration, and of the instinct of suction to the properties of
the atmosphere. On some ingenious reflections
this relation
occur in the excellent work [on Natural Theology] of Dr. Paley,
in which he has very properly laid great stress on the period
when these organs were formed, —a period when no communi-
cation existed between the lungs and the atmosphere, add
when, of course, their structure bore a reference to an order of
things which was yet future. The passage I allude to forms
a part of Chap, xiv., entitled, " Of Prospective Contrivances."
I mentioned, secondly, the adaptation of the retina to the
momentum of light, one of the most astonishing facts (I may
venture to assert) that falls within the sphere of our observa-
tion. Nor will this assertion appear extravagant to those who
reflect for a moment, on one hand, upon the structure of the
organ, which is incomparably more delicate than that of any
other part of the body ; and, on the other hand, on the aston-
ishing velocity of light which carries it at the rate of about
two hundred thousand miles in a second of time that is, ;

nearly a million of times greater than the velocity of a cannon

ball. How inconceivably small must its particles be, and
how nicely must their quantity of matter be adjusted to their
velocity to produce a momentum sufficient to effect the sensi-

tive power of the retina without injuring that or any other part
of the eye How beautifully is the same organ adapted to that
!

property of light, in consequence of which it alters its course

when it passes obliquely from one medium into another of
different density,insomuch that the course of the visual rays
through the humours of the eye, till they paint the image on
the retina, may be traced on the same dioptrical principles on
64 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

which we explain the theory of the telescope and the micro-

scope This view of the mechanism of the eye appears more
!

peculiarly striking, when we consider, as we just now did in

the organs of respiration, the formation of the organ of sight in
the womb of the mother, at a period when no communication
exists between it and that element to which all its various
1
parts have so manifest a reference.
The which I mentioned is that between the size
last relation

and strength of animals and vegetables, and the laws of gravi-

tation and cohesion. A very few slight remarks will suffice for
the illustration of this instance of design, and of the inference
which I wish to draw from the fact.

It is observed by Galileo that in similar bodies, engines and

animals, the greater are more liable to accident than the less,

and have a less relative strength in proportion to their magni-

tude. A greater column, for example, is in much greater
danger of being broken by a fall than a similar small one. A
man is in greater danger from accidents of this kind than a
child. To account for this he shows that in similar bodies of
the same texture the force which tends to break them increases
in the greater bodies in a higher proportion than the force which
tends to preserve them
owing to this, he observes,
entire. It is

that what succeeds very well in a model is often found to fall

to pieces by its own weight when it comes to be executed on a
larger scale. From these principles it follows that there are
necessarily limits in the works both of nature and art which
they cannot surpass in magnitude. It is possible to conceive
trees of so great a size that their branches should fall by their
own weight. The larger animals (we know from the fact) 2

I>r. Fairy'* S'atural Tluolo<f)/, carried this so far as to compensate for the
p. 277, [Chnp XIV. | Hi.] disadvantage arising fVom the increase
3 " In the large sized animals, such ; for the greater animate hare not
tis the I'ulland the rh-phant, the thick the same proportional strength in rela-
nen.H both of their bonei and muscles tion to their balk that the mailer animals
hears greater proportion to the length have It has heen computed, (Halleri,
(if their hmhs, than in the smaller Elcmcntd I'Jn/siolofp'iV, Cap. IX. sect.

animals, and they are therefore of a ii.) that Rca can draw from seventy
a

less elegant form. But nature has Rot to eighty times its own weight, whereas
 :

CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 65 (

have not strength, in proportion to their size and if their size ;

were much increased they would not only be exposed to per-

petual accidents, but would, in a great measure, lose their power
of motion. 1
Under this head, too, we may remark the relation which the
size of the human body bears to that of the other animals.
There is a certain common scale on which man and the other
animals that minister to his necessities seem to have been made,
and which could not be departed from to any great extent with-
out inconvenience ; so that if the size of the human body were
rendered either much larger or much smaller than it is, (that
of other animals remaining the same.) the beautiful harmony
of the globe would be in so far disturbed.
" Had man been of a stature much less than he enjoys/' says
Sir Gilbert Blane, in his Lecture on Muscular Motion, u he
would not have possessed sufficient power over external objects
to act up to those superior faculties of mind with which he is
endowed. If nature had conferred on man only one half of his
actual stature and strength, with the same powers of reason, we
may venture to affirm, that he would not have carried his domi-
nion over the globe to the same extent. As he is now consti-
tuted, his force is commensurate with things external."
These remarks may serve as an answer to the following ques-
tions of Lucretius —
" Denique cur homines tantos natura parare
Xon potuit, pedibus qui pontum per vada possent
2
Transire, et magnos raanibus divellere nioutes?"

Indeed, the same answer was long ago given to this question
by an English naturalist of the seventeenth century, (Dr. Nehe-
miah Grew.) " No other cause/' he observes, " can be assigned
why a man was not made five or ten times bigger, but his rela-
tion to the rest of the universe."

a horse cannot with ease draw more ' Muschenbroek, Dissert. Pliys. et

than three times his own weight." — Sir Math. p. 560.

Gilbert Blane's Lecture on Muscular - Lib. I. 200.
Motion.
i
66 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

(2.) Adaptation of the bodies and instincts of animals to

those particular climates and districts of the earth for which
they are destined. —
Of this remark I cannot recollect a better
illustration than the following description of the camel by Dr.
Robertson.*
" In the habitable parts of both Asia some of the and Africa,
most fertile districts are separated from each other by such ex-
tensive tracts of barren sands, as seem to exclude the possibility
of communication between them. In all these districts of Asia
and Africa, where deserts are most frequent and extensive, the
camel abounds. This is his proper station, and beyond this the
sphere of his action does not extend far. He dreads alike the
excesses of heat and cold, and does not agree even with the
mild climate of our temperate zone. It is scarcely necessary
for me to mention how beautifully this extraordinary animal is

adapted to the particular station he occupies on the globe, by his

persevering strength, by his moderation in the use of food, and by
that singularity in his anatomical structure which enables him
to lay in a stock of water sufficient for several days.
— ' In tra-
velling through the desert,' says Mr. Volney, '
camels are chiefly
employed, because they consume and carry a great load.
little,

His ordinary burden is about seven hundred and fifty pounds.

His food whatever is given him, straw, thistles, the stones of
dates, bran, barley, &c. With a pound of food and as much
water he will travel for weeks. In the journey from Cairo to
Suez, which is forty or forty-six hours, they neither eat- nor
drink ;
but these long fasts, if repeated often, wear them out.
Their usual rate of travelling is very slow, hardly above two
miles an hour. It is vain to push them, they will not quicken
their pace; but if allowed some short rest, they will travel
"'
fifteen hours a day/

(\\.) The relations which animals and vegetables bear to each

* \/list<>ri<al I'i^jiiisition c'tictniijitf of the desert.) mu\ also of the mode in
Jndut. fcc.] which he is trained l>y (he art of man
(<> ln's life of hardship and exertion, a
1
Of the naioral economy of thie ani particnlar account may 1><' found in
mal which the Arahiani call th<- .</<//> Buflon, Art Uhametmei Dromadm
 —
CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD—PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 67

other ; the latter furnishing to the former salutary food in their

healthful state, and useful remedies in the case of disease.
It will perhaps be said that these relations are the effect of
accident ; that the number of plants is infinite ; and that it is

not surprising that among this variety, experience should dis-

cover to us a few which have certain relations to the animal
kingdom. But admitting this mode of reasoning to be good,
what shall we say to those instincts which, independently of
experience, direct an animal to its proper food, and to those
remedies which are suited to its various diseases ? The former
circumstance is matter of daily remark, and the latter is well
known to be equally certain.

(4.) The relations which different tribes of animals have to

each other, one tribe being the natural prey of another, and
each of them having their instruments of offence or defence
provided accordingly.

(5.) The relations which the periodical instincts of migratory

animals bear to the state of the season, and to such animal or
vegetable productions in distant parts of the globe, as are
1
destined to be their food.

This view of the subject is peculiarly striking, when we con-

sider the relations which almost all the parts of the universe
bear to man. That our faculties are admirably adapted to our
external circumstances has been often observed, particularly by
Mr. Locke in the following passage :

" The infinitely wise Contriver of us, and of all things about
us, hath fitted our senses, faculties, and organs, to the conveni-
ences of life, and to the business we have to do here. are We
able by our senses to know and distinguish things, and to ex-
amine them so far as to apply them to our uses, and several
ways to accommodate the exigencies of this life. We have in-
sight enough into their admirable contrivances and wonderful
effects, to admire and magnify the wisdom, power, and good-
1
Kay, p. 128.
68 philosophy or THE moral powkrs. — B. hi. duties to god.

ness of their Author. But it appears not that God intended

we should have a perfect, and adequate knowledge of
clear,

them that perhaps is not

; in the comprehension of any finite

being. We are furnished with faculties (dull and weak as

they are) to discover enough in the creatures to lead us to the
knowledge of the Creator, and the knowledge of our duty and ;

we are fitted well enough with abilities to provide for the con-
veniences of living; — these are our business in this world.
But were our and made much quicker and acuter,
senses altered
the appearance and outward scheme of things would have quite
another face to us, and I am apt to think would be inconsistent
with our being, or at least wellbeing, in this part of the uni-
verse which we inhabit. He that considers how little our
constitution is able to bear a remove into parts of this air, not
much higher than that we commonly breathe have
in, will
reason to be satisfied that in this globe of earth allotted for our
mansion, the all-wise Architect has suited our organs, and the
bodies that are to affect them, one to another. If our sense of
hearing were but one thousand times quicker than it is, how
would a perpetual noise distract us ; and we should in the
quietest retirement be less able to sleep or meditate than in the
middle of a sea-fight. Nay, if that most instructive of our
senses, seeing, were in any man a thousand, or a hundred thou-
sand times more acute than it is now by the best microscope,
things several millions of times less than the smallest object of
his sight now, would then be visible to his naked eyes, and so
he would come nearer the discovery of the texture and motion
of the minute parti of corporeal thingB, and in many of them
probably get ideas of their internal constitutions; but then he
would !)« in a quite different world from other people, nothing —
would appear the same to him and others, the visible ideas of —
everything would be different; so that doubt whether he and
1

the rest «it* men could discourse concerning the objects of si^ht,
or have any communication about colours, their appearances
being so wholly different ; and perhaps such a quickness and
tenderness of Bight could not endure bright sunshine, 01
much as open day Light, nor take in but a very small part of
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 60

any object at once, and that too only at a very near distance.
And if, by the help of such microscopical eyes, (if I may so call
them,) a man should penetrate farther than ordinary into the
secret composition and radical texture of bodies, he would not
make any great advantage by the change, if such an acute
sight would not ser^e to conduct him to the market and ex-
change, if he could not see things he was to avoid at a con-
venient distance, or distinguish things he was to do with, by
those sensible qualities others do. He that was sharp-sighted
enough to see the configuration of the minute particles of the
spring of a clock, and observe on what peculiar structure and
impulse its elastic motion depends, would no doubt discover
something very admirable but if eyes so framed could not
;

view at once the hand and the characters of the hour-plate, and
thereby discover at a distance what o'clock it was, their owner
could not be much benefited by that acuteness, which, whilst it
discovered the secret contrivance of the parts of the machine,
made him lose its use/' 1
Nor is it merely our perceptive faculties which have a refer-
ence to our situation. The external objects with which we are
surrounded are so accommodated to our capacities of enjoy-
ment, and the relations which exist between our frame and
that of external nature are so numerous, in comparison of what
we perceive in the case of other animals, as to authorize us to
conclude, that it with a view to our happiness and
was chiefly
improvement that the arrangements of this lower world were
made. The subject is so infinite that I should lose myself if I
attempted any illustration of it. I shall content myself with
mentioning the innumerable relations between our senses, and
the natural objects with which we are surrounded ; between
the smell and the perfumes of the vegetable world ; between
the taste and the endless profusion of luxuries which the earth,
the air, and the waters afford between the ear and the melo-
;

dies of the birds between the eye and all the beauties and
;

glories of the visible creation. something I think

There is

peculiarly remarkable in the adaptation of the music of birds

1
Locke's Works, Vol. IT. p. 15, ct srq. — [Easai/, P>. II. ch. xxiii. § 12.]
 ;

70 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

to the human ear. It seems to give pleasure to none of the

quadrupeds ; nor is it even certain if the music of one species
of birds gives pleasure to another ; for it has been asserted by
some late naturalists,
1
that those of them who are most remark-
able for their powers of imitation, (the linnet for example,) are
as apt to imitate sounds which are harsh and disagreeable, as
the most exquisite tones of music. But man receives pleasure
from them all, and the variety of their notes would seem almost
to have been bestowed on them to form a concert for the grati-
fication of his ear.

"Up springs the lark,

Shrill voiced and loud, the messenger of morn ;

Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounting sings

Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts
Calls up the tuneful nations. Every copse
Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush
Bending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads
Of the coy quiristere that lodge within,
Are prodigal of harmony. The thrush
And woodlark, o'er the kind contending throng
Superior heard, run through the sweetest length
Of notes when listening Philomela deigns
;

To let them joy, and purposes in thought

Elate, to make her night excel their day.
The blackbird whistles from the thorny brake,
The mellow bullfinch answers from the grove
Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowery furze
PourM out profusely, silent. Join'd to these
Innumerous songsters, in the fresh'ning shade
Of new sprung leaves, their modulations mix
Mellifluous. The jay, the rook, the daw,
And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone,
Aid the full concert, while the stock-dove breathes
A inrlancholy murmur through the whole."*

Son ie naturalists have taken notice, as a curious circum-

stance, of that instinct which attracts the different tribes of
ringing birds to the habitations of men. If there is a cottage
in a focett they all assemble in its neighbourhood. A very
ingenious author, M. de St. Pierre, tells us that he travelled
'
Particular)} by tha l.-itr Honourable Paines Ranington.
* |'l !i •iiis-n fattSOUi, Skiing,
 —
CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD —PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§2.) 71

more than six hundred leagues in the forests of Kussia without

seeing any small birds, excepting in the neighbourhood of the
villages. He
mentions likewise, that when he was in Kussian
Finland he sometimes travelled twenty leagues in a day without
meeting either with villages or birds. Wherever they perceived
the latter they were sure that they were near an inhabited
country. Garcilasso de la Vega informs us, that his father,
having been detached from Peru with a company of Spaniards
to make discoveries beyond the Cordilleras, was in danger of
perishing from hunger amidst their valleys and quagmires, till

which made him suspect

at last he perceived a flight of parrots,
that he was near the habitations of men. He accordingly fol-
lowed the direction in which they flew, and came at last, after
incredible hardships, to an Indian settlement.
It has also been observed that the musical powers of which I
have been speaking are confined to the birds which inhabit the
fields and the woods. They would have been thrown away on
those tribes which frequent the ocean, not only as they are re-
moved from the ordinary haunts of men, but as the songs which
are the most pleasing to the ear would have been lost amidst
the noise of that turbulent element. Such birds have in general
a piercing scream, by which they are enabled to make them-
selves mutually heard, notwithstanding the noise of the wind
and waters. 1

There is another view of nature, which tends remarkably to

illustrate that unity of design in the universe which is the
foundation of our belief of the unity of God; to trace the
analogies which are observable in the structure of different
tribes and even between the animal and the
of animals,
vegetable kingdoms or to trace the analogy which is observable
;

among many of the laws of nature in the material world.

(1.) Of the analogy in the anatomical structure of different

tribes of animals, the following passage of Buifon contains a
very pleasing illustration :

1
Les Etudes de la Nature, &c. Tom. III. p. 70.
72 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

" Take the skeleton of a man, incline the bones of the pelvis,

shorten those of the thighs, legs, and arms ;

join the phalanges
of the fingers and toes ; lengthen the jaws by shortening the
frontal bones and lastly, extend the spine of the back. This
;

skeleton would no longer represent that of a man, it would be

the skeleton of a horse. For by lengthening the back bone and
the jaws the number of the vertebrae, ribs, and teeth would be
increased, and it is only by the number of these bones, and by
the prolongation, contraction, and junction of others, that the
skeleton of a horse differs from that of a man. The ribs which
are essential to the figure of animals are found equally in men,
in quadrupeds, in birds, in and even in the turtle. The
fishes,

foot of the horse, so apparently different from the hand of man,

is composed of similar bones, and at the extremity of each

finger we have the same small bone resembling the shoe of a

horse which bounds the foot of that animal. Raise the skele-
tons of quadrupeds, from the ape kind to the mouse, upon their
hind legs, and compare them with the skeleton of a man, the
mind will be instantly struck with the uniformity of structure
and design observed in the formation of the whole group. This
uniformity is and the gradations from one species
so constant,
to another are so imperceptible, that to discover the marks of
their discrimination requires the most minute attention. Even
the bones of the tail will make but a slight impression ou the
observer. The tail is only a prolongation of the os coccygis, or
rump-bone, which is short in man. The ourang-outang and
true apes have no tail, and in the baboon and several other
quadrupeds the tail is exceedingly short. Thus, in the creation
of animals the Supreme Being seems to have employed only
one great idea, and at the same time to have diversified it in
man might have an opportunity of
every possible manner, that
admiring equally the magnificence of tne execution, and the
simplicity of the design."*

(2.) A same unity of design occurs in

further instance of the
the analogy between the animal and the vegetable kingdoms,
* [TrantkUioo in Bmtllie'i PkUotopky of Natural ffiitory, Vol. T. pp. 54,55 J
 —
CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ Si) 73

It is sufficient to mention this without anv comment, as it has

been matter of common remark in all ages of the world, and
has furnished to poets many of their most interesting and
agreeable images. In modern times it has attracted the attention
of some of our most eminent philosophers, who have not only
availed themselves of its assistance as a principle of botanical
classification, but have connected it with some very curious
speculations concerning the order and economy of nature.

To all this we may add the analog}' among many of the

(3.)
phenomena and laws of the material world a satisfactory proof ;

of which may be derived from the effects which philosophical

habits and scientific pursuits have in familiarizing the mind to
the order of nature, and in improving its penetration and saga-
city in anticipating those parts of which are yet unknown.
it

A man conversant with the phenomena of physics and chemistry

is much more likely than a stranger to these studies, to form

probable conjectures concerning those laws of nature which

still remain to be examined. There is a certain style (if I may
use the expression) in the operations of the Great Author of all

Things something which everywhere announces, amidst a

:

boundless variety of detail, an inimitable unity and harmony

of design and in the perception of which, what we commonly
;

call philosophical sagacity seems chiefly to consist. It is this

which bestows an inestimable value on the conjectures and
queries of such a philosopher as Sir Isaac Xewton.
This view of the unity *'gn. displayed in the works oi

creation, becomes more peculiarly impressive, when we consider

that evidences of it may be traced as far as the inquiries of phi-
losophers have hitherto reached The ancients in general Bap-
posed that the phenomena of the heavens were regulated by
laws perfectly unlike those which obtain within the circle of our
experience, although I have somewhere met with the following
maxim, which I think was ascribed to the Persian Magi avfi-
iraOr) elvat ra avw toU kutco. [See above. Element?. Vol.
II. p. 292.]
The modern discoveries have shown clearlv that this really
74 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

is the caseand indeed it was a conjecture a priori that this

;

probably was true, that led the way to the doctrine of gravi-
tation. Every subsequent discovery has confirmed and extended

the truth. It has been found that comets, in their most dis-
tant excursions from the sun, continue subject to this law, and
that, by attending to the various disturbances of their motions
arising from their gravitation to the planets, the periods of
their return to the planetary regions may be predicted within
astonishingly narrow limits. It has been found that the same
law extends to that telescopical planet which has been lately
discovered to belong to and the quantity of
our system,
matter it contains has been computed from the motion of its
satellites, by an application of a theory founded on the most

familiar of all the facts we know, that a heavy body on our earth,
when projected into the air, descends again to the ground.
Nor is it only the more general laws of terrestrial bodies
which extend to the more remote parts of the universe. There
is some ground for suspecting, that the particular arrangements
of things on the surfaces of the different planets are not wholly
unlike those which we observe on our own. I before took no-
tice of that relation which the size and strength of animals and

vegetables seem to bear to the laws of gravitation and cohesion.

Supposing, then, the other planets to be furnished with animals
and vegetables similar to those on the surface of our earth, and
supposing, at the same time, the same laws of cohesion and of
other attractions which obtain here to extend over our system,
it was necessary that the force of gravity at the surfaces of the

different planets should not differ very widely from one standard.
Now, as we find from the fact, contrary to all expectation, that
at tin surfaces of the planels which differ from each other the
1

in« >st in magnitude, there is a wonderfully narrow limit within

which the force of gravity varies, is it not a natural inference

that tli< \ accommodation of animated beings
are fitted for the

not very different from those with which we are acquainted?

At the surface of Jupiter, though he be several hundred times
greater than our earth, the force of gravity is little more than
double of thai of terrestrial bodies and at (he surface o(
;
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 2.) 75

Saturn, it is only about one-fourth greater than at the surface

1
of the earth.
Amusing and interesting as these physical speculations may
be to the mind, it is still more delightful to trace that unifor-
mity of design which obtains in the moral world. To compare
the arts of human life with the instincts of the brutes, and the
instincts of the different tribes of brutes with each other ; and
to remark, amidst the wonderful variety of means which are
employed to accomplish the same ends, a certain analogy char-
acterize them all or to observe, in the minds of different indi-
;

viduals of our own species, the workings of the same affections

and passions, manifesting, among men of every age and of every
country, the kindred features of humanity. It is this which
gives the great charm to what we call nature in epic and dra-
matic compositions when the poet speaks a language to which
;

every heart is an echo, and which, amidst all the effects of edu-
cation and fashion in modifying and disguising the principles of
our constitution, reminds all the various classes of readers or of
spectators, of the existence of those moral ties which unite us
to each other and to our common Parent.
add farther, before leaving this subject, that
I have only to
the various remarks and reasonings which I have offered on the
two general principles of our nature formerly mentioned, are
not to be considered as forming any part of the argument
for the existence of God, which, as I already said, is an imme-
diate and necessary consequence of these principles. What I
had in view was, not to confirm this important truth by reason-
ing, but to obviate the sceptical cavils which have been raised
against it. When the principles of our nature are allowed to
follow their own course, without being diverted from it by the
prejudices of superstition or of false philosophy, they produce
their proper effect on the mind of the uncultivated savage, as
much as of the enlightened citizen. " How do you know," said

a traveller to a poor Arab of the desert, " that there is a God ?"

" In the same manner," he replied, " that I trace the footsteps

1
Mac]aurin's Account of Sir Isaac Newton's Philosophical Discove; ies, B. III.
chap. v. sect. 5.
 —

7G THILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL TOWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

of an animal by the prints which, it leaves upon the sand."

M Is it not fitting/' said a savage of Sumatra to his companion,

Bhowing him a watch that had been made in Europe, " that a
people such aswe should be the slaves of a nation capable of
li
forming such a machine ? The sun," he added, is a machine

of the same nature." u And who winds him up ?" said his
companion. " Who," replied he, " but Allah I" 1
If any exception to the universality of these religious impres-
sions among mankind is to be found, it is not among savages
we are to look for it, but in populous and commercial and arti-
ficial societies of men, where the voice of nature drowned is

amid the bustle of business, or the hurry of dissipation where ;

our earliest and most susceptible years are passed among the
productions of human art, and the attention is diverted from
those physical appearances, which are stamped with the obvious
marks of Divine power and wisdom. Nothing, in truth, banishes
moral impressions from the thoughts so much as the artificial
objects with which we are everywhere surrounded in populous
and cultivated countries, particularly in large commercial cities;
because the curiosity is too deeply engrossed by the produc-
tions of human skill and industry to have leisure to follow its
natural direction. Hence it is that such impressions, however
long banished from the mind, never fail to revive when we re-
tire from the haunts of men to converse with nature in solitude.

What we of nature, is in fact the love and admira-

call the love

tion of the Deity. The enthusiasm with which some men sur-
vey the endless vicissitudes which the spectacle of the universe
exhibits, is nothing else than the devotional temper moderated
and repressed by the slight veil which sensible objects intor-
between us and their author. In those deep and savage
recesseswhere human art lias never trode, this veil is in some
measure removed; every thing around us appears unchanged
and fresh from the baud of the Creator, and we seem to be
conscious of his more immediate presence,
" l'u mi v i
tow m ct ooDipicimoa Deum
Per inyiai rapes, (era perju

1
M.uvI.'iiV llistanj of Sum itr,'
 CHAP. IJ. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 77

Clivosque pneruptos, sonantes

Inter aquas, nemorurnque noctetn ;

Quara si rcpostus sub trabe citrea

Fulgeret auro, et Phidiaca njanu."*

SECT. III. — CONCLUSION OF THE ARGUMENT FOR THE

EXISTENCE OF GOD

The observations which have been made not only establish

the existence of a Deity, but contain the evidences of his unity,
of his power, and of his wisdom. Of these we justly say that
they are infinite ; that is, that our imagination can set no
bounds to them, and that our conceptions of them always rise
in proportion as our own faculties are cultivated and enlarged,
and knowledge of the universe becomes more extensive.
as our
Some of the earlier and more scholastic of our modern writers
on natural religion give a long enumeration of what they call
the Divine Attributes, which they divide into the natural, the
intellectual, and the moral. Under the first head, they compre-
hend the unity of the Deity, his self-existence, his spirituality,
his omnipotence, his immutability, his eternity ; — under the
second, his knowledge and his wisdom ; and under the third,
his justice and and of all these attributes they
his goodness ;

treat in a systematical manner. I own I do not approve of

this view of the subject or at least I do not think I could
;

adopt it with advantage here ; I shall therefore confine myself

to a few observations on the evidences of the Divine goodness
and justice, those attributes which render the Deity the proper
object of religious worship and adoration.
Before, however, entering on this subject, I think it proper
to take notice of the historical question concerning the priority
of monotheism or of polytheism, in the order of human inves-
tigation. I shall afterwards collect together a few miscellaneous
remarks which in the course of this chapter escaped my recol-
lection while treating of those heads under which they ought
* [Gray; Alcaic Ode, written in tlie, Works-, by Mi t ford, 4to edition, Vol. I.

Album of the Grande Chartreuse. — p. 223.]

78 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

to have been introduced. For the sake of greater distinctness

I shall divide the section into two parts.

(Part 1.)

With respect to the priority of Monotheism or Polytheism,

two opinions on the question have been proposed. The one
supposes monotheism to be agreeable to the first suggestions of
the mind, and polytheism to result from a combination of the
conclusions formed by different persons in different situations.
The other supposes polytheism to arise necessarily from those
partial conceptions of the universe, to which our faculties are
limited in the infancy of reason and experience, and monothe-
is'm to be the slow and gradual result of more enlarged and
philosophical views. The former opinion is supported by Mr.
Ferguson, in his Principles of Moral and Political Philoso-
phy ; the latter by Mr. Hume, in his Natural History of Re-
ligion.
"In every nation or tribe," says Ferguson, u the providence
of God was supposed to take its character from the circum-
stances in which was employed.
it In maritime situations the
Deity was conceived as monarch of the sea, and director of
storms. Withiu land he was conceived as the patron of hus-
bandmen and of shepherds, the ruler of seasons, and the power
on which man must depend for the increase of his herds, and
for the returns of his harvest.
tt
In no instance, perhaps, did the people of any one descrip-
tion or determinate manner of life originally conceive more
than one God. But the accounts of what different nations be-
lieved, when collated together, seemed to make up a catalogue
of separate deities ami what every nation apart intended for
;

one, when reports were accumulated from different quarters,

was mistaken for many.
" The spirit with which these reports of a God acknowledged

in one nation, different from the God who was acknowledged

U another, were mutually received by their respeetive votaries,
was various La different instances.

"In some instances the pretensions of one Deity were sup-

 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 79

posed to be consistent with those of another, and the Gods

reconcilable. Upon this supposition every nation worshipped
its own, without any supposed disparagement to the God of its

neighbour, and without animosity to his worshippers.

" In other instances pretensions were considered as incon-

sistent ; deities were stated as rival powers ; and nations waged

continual war under the banners of their respective gods." 1
On the other hand, it is maintained by Hume,* (and I confess
I think with much more probability,) that theism is the slow
result of philosophical views of the universe —connecting differ-

ent physical events together as parts of one system conspiring

to one end ; and that as long as we attend to detached and
insulated appearances only, polytheism offers itself as the most
natural creed ; leading men to apprehend one God of the winds,
another of the waters, a third of the woods, &c, presiding over
and communicating motion to the different parts of the mate-
rial world. The prevalence of polytheism in the world is a
proof of this ; and I have little doubt that this would have
continued to be the religion of the multitude in all countries,

had not the idolatrous tendency of the uninformed understand-

2
ing been corrected by the light of Divine revelation.
When I speak, however, of the prevalence of polytheism in
the world, I would be always understood to mean its prevalence
among the multitude ; for it is more than probable, that in all

1
Vol. I. p. 169.— [Part I. ch. ii. g 15.] nal affection for the whole human spe-
* [Essays, Vol. II.: The Natural His- cies and a compassionate tenderness
;

tory of Religion, sect, i.] even for the brute creation." Jones's —
2 Two very high authorities, however, Dissertation on the Persians.
may be quoted in favour of the opposite Does not the purity and sublimity of
opinion, Sir Isaac Newton and Sir Wil- this creed, both in its theological and
liam Jones. " The primeval religion of ethical principles, suppose a degree of
Iran," says the last of these writers, cultivation, both intellectual and moral,
" was that which Newton calls the altogether incompatible with the condi-
oldest (and it may justly be called the tion of man in the earlier stages of

noblest) of all religions ; a firm belief society ? The passage, however, is

that one Supreme God made the world nobly conceived and beautifully ex-

by his power, and continually governed pressed, and contains, I have little

it by his providence ; a pious fear, love, doubt, a faithful description of the reli-

and adoration of him a due reverence ;

gious sentiments of many wise and good
for parentsand aged persons a fratcr- ;
men in the heathen world.
 —

SO PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL TOWERS. — R. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

a^es and countries there have been some individuals whose

minds were enlightened by the simple and sublime belief of the
unity of God. Thus, among the ancient Greeks and Romans,
although the established religion and the popular persuasion
was undoubtedly polytheism, the clearest evidence may be pro-
duced that the philosophical creed was very different. The
most enlightened writers, indeed, frequently expressed them-
selves in conformity to vulgar prejudices ; and many of them
probably believed that there exist a variety of beings superior
to man, who have an influence over human affairs, but who act
in subordination to the will of the Supreme God. This belief
is not to be confounded with polytheism ;
for it is perfectly con-
sistent with the doctrine of the unity of the Deity, to suppose
that he sometimes acts by subordinate ministers. The frequent
application which the classical writers make of the word Deus,
is apt to mislead us upon this subject ; but that word conveyed
to the Romans a very different idea from what we annex to the
corresponding word in our language. Sometimes they employed
it to express the Supreme Being ; sometimes subordinate minds
acting in obedience to his will. In the following sentence it is

used in both these senses — " Deos :

alios in terra, alios in luna,
alios in reliquas mundi partes spargens, Dcus quasi serebat." 1
That the unity of the Deity w as the philosophical belief T

among the Romans, appears from the testimony of their most

eminent writers. The following passages are from the works
of Cicero :

a
Princeps ille Deus, qui omnem nunc mundum regit, sicut
aninms humanus id corpus cui propositus est."[?] 2 "Nee —
vcro Deus ipse alio modo intelligi potest, nisi mens soluta quae-
dam et libera, segregate ab omni concretione mortali, omnia
Miitiens et niovens." 3 —
" Esse pnestantom aliquam aeternamque
naturam, et earn suspieiendam adniirandamque hominum
generi, pulchritndo mundi ordoque remm cceleetium cogit con-

1
Cicero qnofed by Bolingbroke ; Fki- RoKngbroke it is inaccurately quoted.
kieak RPbr*t,VoLV.p 264.— [The — Fd.)
of Cicero n (ron the fn \ >»». 8dp. sect. iii.

menl /v Un up w i
; bat by s
Z*«or. Qwmt. Lib. I. [cup. xwii.]
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 81

fiteri."
1 — u Omnes gentes una sempiterna et immortalis
lex, et

continebit ; unusque erit, quasi magister et imperator omnium,

2
Deus."
Seneca expressly informs us, that all the different names
given by the Komans to the Deity were only to be considered
as descriptive of the different characters in which he appears to
us from his works. " Quid aliud est Natura, quam Deus et
Divina Katio toti mundo et partibus ejus inserta ? Quoties
voles, tibi licet aliter hunc auctorem rerum nostrarum compel-
lare Jovem ilium optimum et maximum rite dices, et ton-
; et
antem et statorem. Hunc eundem et fatum si dixeris, non
mentieris nam cum Fatum nihil aliud sit quam series implexa
;

causarum, ille est prima omnium causa ex qua casterse pendent.

Qusecunque voles nomina proprie aptabis, vim aliquam
illi

effectumque ccelestium rerum continentia tot appellation es :

ejus possunt esse, quot munera ;" and in another place: " Ne
3

hoc quidem crediderunt (antiqui) Jovem, qualem in capitolio

et in caeteris eedibus colimus, mittere manu fulmina ; sed eun-
dem, quern nos, Jovem intelligunt : custodem rectoremque
universi animum ac spiritum mundani hujus
; operis dominum
et artificem cui nomen omne convenit." 4
;

I shall only add to these passages the following quotation

from the Isis and Osiris of Plutarch. " Care should be taken
not to transform, dissolve, and scatter the Divine Nature into
rivers, winds, vegetables, or bodily forms and motions
This would be as ridiculous as to imagine that the sails, the
cables, the rigging, and the anchor, are the pilot, or that the
thread, the shuttle, and the woof, are the weaver. Such sense-
less notions are an indignity to the heavenly powers, whom
they blaspheme, while they give the name of Gods to beings
of an insensible, inanimate, and corruptible nature
Nothing that is without a soul, nothing that is and
material,
to be perceived by our senses, can be God. Nor yet must we
imagine that there are different Gods, according to the different
countries of Greeks and barbarians, northern and southern

1
De Divin. Lib. II. cap. lxxii. 8
De Bene/. Lib. IV. cap. vii.
2
Frag. De Repub. Lib. III. 4
Nat. Qucust. Lib. II. cap. xlv.
VOL. VII. F
82 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

nation 8. As the sun is common to all the world, though

called by different names in different places, so there is but one
sole Supreme Mind and one and the same Provi-
or Reason,
dence that governs the world, though he is worshipped under
different names, and has appointed some inferior powers for his
ministers/'*
Nor is it only the philosophers of antiquity who thought in

this manner. It is justly observed by the Chevalier Ramsay,

that " whoever reads Homer and Virgil with a proper attention
will see, that, notwithstanding the wild flights of their imagi-
nation, and the indecent by which they sometimes
allegories
dishonour the Divine Nature, there is one general principle
running through all their fables, that there is one Supreme
God, whom they everywhere call the Father, and the Sovereign
Lord of Gods and Men, the Architect of the World, and the
Prince and Governor of the Universe/' "Poetry," says this
—
author, " deifies all the various parts of nature, and gives spirits
to bodies, as well as body to spirits. It expresses the operations
and properties of matter by the actions and passions of such
invisible powers as the pagans supposed to be directors of all
the motions and events that we see in the universe. The poets
pass in a moment from allegory to the literal sense, and from
the literal sense to allegory from real Gods to fabulous deities
; ;

and this occasions that jumble in their images, that absurdity

in their fictions, and that indecorum in their expressions, which
are so justly condemned by the philosophers. Notwithstanding,
however, this multiplication of inferior deities, the poets of
antiquity in general believed that there is but one only Supreme
God." Of this assertion very strong proofs are produced by
Ramsay in his Discourse upon the Theology and Mythology of
the Ancients, annexed to his Travels of Cyrus. The following
passages deserve to be added to those he has quoted. [Thus
Virgil :]

ipite ergo animia, aftqoe lwc mea figite d

Qojb Photo Paler omnipotena, mihi Phmboa Apollo

TiMilixit, vobis Kurinrum ego maxima jkuk'.o." 1

* [Platan hi Opera, edidoneaXjUndri, Tom. II pp, 'Ml, 378.] '

-
.Eia'.J. Hi. J50.
 :

CHAP. II.— EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 83

Upon which verses Servius remarks, that even Apollo (he

who among the Pagan deities was in chief esteem for his pro-
phetic knowledge) is said to derive his knowledge from the
Supreme Being. " Notandum Apollinem quaa dicit a Jove
cognoscere."
[So Horace :]

. . . .
" Scimus ut impios
Titanas, immanemque turmam
Fulmine sustulerit caduco,
Qui terrain inertem, qui mare temperat
Ventosum ; et urbes, regnaque tristia
Divosque, mortalesque turmas,
Imperio regit Uxus aequo." l

[And again :]

" Quid prius dicani solitis parentis

Laudibus ;
qui res hominum ac deorum,
Qui mare et terras, variisque mundum
Temperat horis ?

" Unde nil majus generatur ipso:

Nee viget quicquam simile aut secundum
Proximos illi tamen occupavit
Pallas honores." 2

The most remarkable passage, however, I recollect in any of

the ancient poets for my present purpose, is that in Lucan's
Pharsaliaj where the following lines are put into the mouth of
Cato, in reply to Labienus and others who advised him to
consult the oracle of Jupiter Ammon in Lybia.
" Hajremus cuncti superis, temploque tacente,
Nil facimus non sponte Dei. Nee vocibus ullis

Numen eget; dixitque semel nascentibus auctoi,

Quidquid scire licet. Sterilesne elegit arenas,
Ut caneret paucis, mersitque hoc pulvere verum ?

Estne Dei sedes, nisi terra, et pontus, et aer,

Et ccelum et virtus? — Superos quid quaerimus ultra?

Jupiter est quodcumque vides, quocumque moveris." 3

In farther confirmation of this doctrine, concerning the

religious opinions of the ancient philosophers, a very ingenious
(and to my mind most convincing) argument is deduced by Dr.
1 2 8
Carm. Lib. III. Od. iv. Carrn. Lib. I. Od. xii. Lib. ix. 573.
84 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

Cudworth from the reasonings of the Epicurean school, which,

as he observes, were levelled, not against the supposition of a

plurality of Deities, but against the belief of one Supreme
God, everywhere present, and everywhere exerting the active
energy of a superintending providence.

" Quis regere Irarnensi Summam, quis habere Profundi

Indu maou validae potis est moderanter habenas ?

Quis pariter Ccelos omneis convertere ; et omneis

Ignibus aetheriis terras suffire feraceis ;

Omnibus inque locis esse omni tempore praesto ? n *

" In like manner," continues Dr. Cudworth, " when Epi-

curus pursues the same argument further in Cicero, alleging,
that, though such a thing were possible, yet it would be, not-
withstanding, absolutely inconsistent with the happiness of any
being, he still proceeds on the same hypothesis of one sole and
single Deity As Epicurus here speaks singularly, so tire

trouble of this theocracy could not be thought so very great

to a multitude of co-ordinate Deities, when parcelled out among
them, but would rather seem to be but a sportful and delightful
divertisement to each of them. Wherefore," concludes this
very learned and profound writer, "it is manifest that such
an idea as we have declared of the unity of God, is a thing
which the ancient atheists, under the times of paganism, were
not unacquainted with, but principally directed their force
against/' 1
I must not leave this fundamental article of Natural Religion,
(the Existence of the Deity,) without taking notice of the sup-
port it derives from the universal consent of all ages and
nations. f However contaminated with error, however debased
by the follies of superstition and credulity, the belief of the
existence of supernatural and invisible beings presiding over
human affairs will be found to be inseparable from the human
mind ; and, in so tar as this belief obtains, atheism is excluded.

* [Lucretius, Lib. 11. LOW ]

1
Intellectual Sy.i'mi, pp. 207, 806 |
[Birvh's edit. p. 206.—Book I. cliap IT. § 10]
t [A :im/s, &<•., Vt.l. II. chap. i. MCt. 3, p. r>s, §eq.]
 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD—PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 85

" Ex tot generibus," says Cicero, "

nullum est animal, praster
hominem, quod habeat notitiam aliquam Dei ipsisque in :

hominibus nulla gens est neque tarn inimansueta, neque tarn

fera, quae non, etiamsi ignoret, qualem habere Deuni deceat,

tamen habendum sciat." 1 Now unquestionably the universal

concurrence of mankind in the belief of any proposition is a
strong presumption, or rather a positive evidence, that this belief
has a foundation in the principles of our nature ; and if we
find these natural suggestions of the mind confirmed by the
authority of the most enlightened philosophers, and above all
confirmed by the conclusions of our own reason, we have all

the evidence that possibly can be brought in support of any

truth whatever. Indeed I apprehend there is no truth in the
whole circle of human knowledge which so many different
kinds of proof conspire to establish, as that which has been
now under our consideration:
— "Testimonium
populorum
atque gentium," says Lactantius, " in una hac re non dissi-
—
dentium :"* and in this manner reasoned the best philoso-
phers of old. " What seems true to most wise men," as

Aristotle has excellently observed, " is very probable what ;

most men, both wise and unwise, assent to, doth still more
resemble truth but what men generally consent in hath the
;

highest probability, and approaches near to demonstration, so

near that it may pass for ridiculous arrogance, or for intolerable
obstinacy and perverseness to deny it. —A man," he adds,
" may assume what seems true to the wise, if it do not contra-
dict the common opinion, of mankind." 2
The following passages are extracted from different writers
of antiquity. They all express the same idea, the presumption
for the existence of the Deity arising from universal consent.
But on a subject of so interesting a nature it is pleasing to
place the same truth in various lights, as well as to remark a
coincidence of sentiment among those enlarged and cultivated
minds which have devoted their talents to the improvement
and happiness of the human race.
"Multum dare solemus," says Seneca, " praesumptioni oni-
2 Topica
1
De Leyibus, I. viii. * [Listituliones, Lib. I. cap. ii. § 4.] I. viii. [or x.]
 — J

86 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

niiim hominum. Apud nos veritatis argumentum est, aliquid

omnibus videri ; tanquam Deo3 esse, inter alia, sic colligimus,
— quod omnibus de Diis opinio insita est; nee ulla gens
usquam est adeo extra leges moresque projecta, ut non aliquos
Deos credat." 1
To the same purpose Cicero: "Firmissimum hoc afferri
videtur, cur Deos esse credamus quod nulla gens tarn fera, :

—
nemo omnium tarn sit immanis, cujus men tern non imbuerit
Deorum opinio. Multi de diis prava sentiunt, id enim vitioso
more effici solet omnes tamen esse vim, et naturam Divinam
;

arbitrantur. Una autem in re consensio omnium gentium lex

2
naturaa putanda est."
In the following passage of Maximus Tyrius,* the fact on
which the argument proceeds is stated with great simplicity
and force.
" In such a contest and tumult and disagreement, {about
otJier may see this one law and speech
matters of opinion,) you
[reason ?] acknowledged by common accord, that there is one —
God, the King and Father of All, and many Gods, the children
of God and ruling together with him. This the Greek says,
and and the inhabitant of the conti-
this the barbarian says ;

nent, and the islander and the wise and the unwise." 3
;

" If you search the world," says Plutarch, " you may find

cities without walls, without letters, without kings, without

money ; but no one ever saw a city without a Deity, without a
temple, or without some form of worship." f
In the passages now quoted their several authors take for
granted that the general consent of mankind in admitting any
proposition affords a strong presumption that the proposition is

true. And that this is a just principle of reasoning appears

(among various other considerations) from this : — that " Truth
is one thing, while Errors are numberless, and every man has
a different." I select this consideration in preference to the

s
1
I'pistolcr,, cvii. [cxvii.] Sec Barrow's Sermons.
* Tu*c. I)i*p. I. xiii. + [Adversus Colotau ; Opera, edi-
* [Diatrtatio, Vul-<>, i., DftfUo xvii tionea Xvlandri, Tom. II. p. 1125.
•
fcbovc I'lemcnU, vol. ii p. 60.]
 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 87

others, because the remark is made by Mr. Hume himself* the

most sceptical of all writers. When we find, therefore, a
number of unconnected individuals, all led to the same con-
clusion by different processes of reasoning, the presumption
that the conclusion is true is strengthened in a proportion
indefinitely great ; and in like manner, when among an infinite
variety of discordant systems that have arisen in different ages
and countries, we find some opinions common to them all, we
are inevitably led to consider these opinions as possessing the
highest evidence by which any truth can possibly be supported.
We may add to this observation, that when among an infinite
variety of rites and ceremonies we trace universally the opera-
tion of certain common affections and emotions, we have a
demonstration that these affections and emotions form a con-
stituent part of the nature of man.
I am aware of an objection that may be stated to this doc-
trine, that there are some articles of belief universally received
by mankind in ages of ignorance, which come to be as generally
regarded as mere prejudices in the progress of human reason.
Such, for example, is the belief that the earth is at rest, and the
sun in motion ; * and in general, all those prejudices called by
Lord Bacon Idola Tribus. It may be supposed, therefore, that,
for anything we know to the contrary, the case may one day be
the same with our belief of the existence of a Deity.
In answer to this objection I would observe, that wherever a
prejudice is found to obtain universally among mankind in any
stage of society, this prejudice must have some foundation in
the general principles of our nature, and must proceed upon
some truth or fact inaccurately apprehended, or erroneously
judged of. The suspense of judgment, therefore, which is pro-
per with respect to particular opinions till they are once exa-
mined, can never justify scepticism with respect to the general
principles or laws of the human mind. Our belief of the sun's

motion is not a conclusion to which we are fairly led by any

such principle or law, but an inference rashly drawn from the
* [See his Essays, Vol. II. ; Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals t
sect, i.]

1
See Trembley, Sur les Prejvges, p. 21.
88 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

perceptions of sense, which do not warrant such an inference.

All that we see is, that there is a relative change of place be-
tween us and the sun and this fact, which is made known to
;

us by our senses, no subsequent discovery of philosophy pre-

tends to disprove. It is not, therefore, the evidence of external
perception which is overturned by the Copernican system, but
a judgment or inference of the understanding, of the rashness
of which every person must be fully sensible the moment he is

made to reflect with due attention on the circumstances of the

case. In other words, the Copernican system not only informs
us of the real constitution of the universe, but satisfies us with
respect to the grounds of this universal prejudice ; and the doc-
trine which it substitutes for our first crude conclusions on the
subject, is founded, not on any process of reasoning a priori,
but on the demonstrable inconsistency of these conclusions with
the variousphenomena which our perceptions present to us.
Had Copernicus, like some of the sophists of old, not only
asserted the stability of the earth, but that no such thing as
motion exists in the universe, his theory would have been per-
fectly analogous to that of Berkeley, and no answer to it could
have been devised more pertinent and philosophical than that
which Plato [?] is said to have given to the same paradox in
the mouth of Zeno, by rising up and walking before his eyes.
We are entitled, therefore, to dispute the similarity of the cases,
till some prejudice is pointed out as universal as the belief of
the existence of a Deity, from which prejudice such a belief
could have arisen.
Another objection to the argument for the existence of a Deity
drawn from universal consent, is founded on absurd tenets and
extravagant ceremonies sanctioned by the religious creeds of all

;il'< s and nations. " Examine," says Mr. Hume, " the religious

principles which have prevailed in the world, you will scarcely

be persuaded that they are anything but sick men's dreams;
or perhaps will regard them mere as the playsomc whimsies of
monkeys in mans shape, than the serious, positive, dogmatical
rerations <>f a being who dignifies himself with the title of
11
rational. . . , "Tooppoa the torrent of scholastic religion by
 f

CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD—PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 89

such feeble maxims as these ; that it is impossible for the same

thing to be and not to be ; that the whole is greater than a
part ; that two and three make five ; is pretending to stop the
ocean with a bulrush/'* And hence this ingenious writer finds
himself obliged to conclude, that " the whole is a riddle, an
enigma, an inexplicable mystery, and that doubt, uncertainty,
and suspense appear the only result of our most accurate scru-
tiny on this subject/'
In a former work I attempted to reply to Mr. Hume's reason-
ings on this head, and even endeavoured to deduce, from the
circumstances on which he founds his objections, a new argu-
ment for the being of a Deity inasmuch as the absurd tenets ;

and extravagant ceremonies which men are taught to reverence

when they are connected with their religious belief, prove how
irresistible the evidence must be of that fundamental principle,
by means of which they lay hold of the understanding and the
heart.
1
And it was in this manner, I apprehend, that Lord
Bacon felt, when he said that he "
had rather believe all the
fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than
that this universal frame is without a Mind." J Or, in other
words, that there was no proposition, how absurd soever, to
which he could not more easily give his assent, than he could
'withhold it from this truth, proclaimed to him at once by
every part of the universe.
To one who considers the subject in this light, the history
even of the errors and follies of superstition becomes interesting
and instructive, and instead of justifying the suggestions of
scepticism, throws a new lustre on the evidences of religion ;

and, while it teaches him to regard not only with indulgence,

but with reverence, whatever tenets and observances are sanc-
tified to other men by all the best feelings of the heart, it

cherishes in hisown mind that pure and undefiled religion

which worships God in spirit and in truth.

* [Natural History of Religion, Human Mind, Vol. I. pp. 366-369, 6th

Sect, xi.] edit.— [ Works, Vol. II. pp. 319-321.]

f [Ibid. Sect. xv. and last.] j [Essays, xvi. Of Atheism]

1
Elements of tlie Philosophy of the
90 philosophy of the moral powers. — b. iii. duties to god.

(Part 2.)

I formerly mentioned some circumstances which may help

to explain why the idea of a God, although it forces itself
irresistiblyon every serious and reflecting mind, is so seldom
presented to our thoughts when we are engaged in the neces-
sary business of human life. This idea, I observed, is the result
of two principles of our nature, the one of which is, that—
every thing which begins to exist must have a cause; — the
other, that a combination of means conspiring to a particular
end implies intelligence. Now the former of these principles,
although it plainly intimates to us (on an accurate analysis of
the conceptions it suggests) the constant operation of mind in
producing the phenomena of the universe, yet it does not call
our attention to this efficiency of mind when we are employed
about our ordinary occupations. On the contrary, the attention
is diverted from such apprehensions by a very remarkable bias
of our nature, which leads us to associate power and efficiency
with material objects and physical events ; and to consider the
phenomena of the universe as a chain of causes and effects, the
links of which are necessarily connected with each other. 1 An-
other important purpose is answered by this bias of the mind,
as it serves to animate our curiosity in the investigation of
physical causes, particularly in the earlier part of our existence.
The curiosity which children discover is, I think, chiefly a con-
fused desire to know the efficient causes of the phenomena they
see ; and although their curiosity in this respect is never gra-
tified, yet it serves to increase their stock of useful knowledge,
by directing their attention to physical causes, and to the
general laws of nature.
In order to prevent still farther that inconvenient distraction
of our thoughts which would necessarily result from the con-
stant apprehension of the agency of mind, the changes in the
state of the universe are in general accomplished by slow and
imperceptible degrees If an animal or a vegetable were
brotlghl into existence before our eves in an instant of time,
1
See upon ilii* mbjecl Pktto*opky of the Human Mind, Vol T. chap i
9 '-'
 ;

CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 3.) 91

the event would not in itself be more wonderful than their

gradual growth from an embryo or seed to maturity. But, on.
the former supposition, thereno man who would not perceive
is

and acknowledge the immediate agency of an intelligent cause

whereas, according to the actual order of things, the effect
steals so slowly on our observation that it excites little or no
curiosity, excepting in those who are possessed of a sufficient
degree of reflection to contrast the present state of the objects
they see with the first origin and progressive stages of their
existence.
With respect to the other principle, which leads us to appre-
hend intelligence and design whenever we see a combination of
means conspiring to a particular end, the effects of familiarity
formerly remarked produce such habits of inattention in the
greater part of mankind as prevent it from making any sensi-
ble impression on their minds on the ordinary occasions of
human life. Were it not for these effects of familiarity the
business of the world would appear unworthy of our regard,
and we should be every moment in the same state of astonish-
ment and of awe, as if (according to the supposition of Aris-
totle and of Cicero, already mentioned [p. 62]) we were sud-
denly introduced to a view of the magnificent spectacle of the
earth and the heavens after having passed the earlier part of
our lives in a cavern under ground.
In general, it would appear to have been the intention of the
Deity to make known his existence and attributes to every
mind makes a proper use of its faculties, without obtrud-
that
ing these sublime conceptions on the thoughtless and inconsi-
derate, orwithdrawing the attention even of the serious from
the necessary pursuits of business. The consequence is, that
the Deity is never an immediate object of human perception,
but recognised by the deliberate exercise of our reason in the
is

incessant workings of hfe wisdom and power, as our feeble

sight,unable to gaze directly at the splendour of the sun, enjoys
the milder influence of his rays when reflected from the verdure
of the woods or the flowers of the field.

Beside these circumstances in the constitution of the human

 —

92 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

mind which conceal the Deity from the view of those whose
thoughts are wholly engrossed by sensible objects, and by the
pursuits of this world, there are some particular habits of life

that are in a peculiar degree unfavourable to religious impres-

sions ; above all, those artificial habits to which we are accus-
tomed in large and populous where we are surrounded
cities,

wholly with the effects of human skill and human industry.

These lay hold of the curiosity in our early years, and divert it
from the beautiful and sublime spectacle of the universe. Of
such modes of thinking and feeling atheism, (or what amounts
nearly to the same thing,) a total insensibility to all religious

and moral impressions, is the genuine offspring and in pro- ;

portion as the manners of a people recede from the simplicity

of natural occupations and pursuits, and acquire the superin-
duced habits either of commercial drudgery or of fashionable
life, this miserable perversion of the understanding and the
heart may be expected to prevail. 1
The scepticism which has
long vitiated the philosophy, and injured the morals of a neigh-
bouring country, may be traced in some degree at least from
this very cause. The Abbe de Lille complains in his preface
to the translation of the Georgics of the difficulty of the work,
from those ideas of meanness and poverty which the French
are accustomed to associate with the profession of husbandry ;

— and the same thing has been experienced by those who have
attempted to translate the Seasons of Thomson into that lan-
guage. How perverted from all the purposes of our being
must have been a state of manners, in which those rural scenes

1
There is, I think, some ingenuity as Aut magno aut parvo lethi fuga: quo, bone,
circa,
well as wit in the following note, hy an
Italian
Dum licet, in rebus jucundis vive beatus;
translator of Horace, on the
Vive memor, quam sis acvi brevis."
Epicurean principles sported hy the city [Sermonei, L. II. Sat vi. 90.]
Mouse, in his conversation with his " Jucunduin quidcra est urhanuin au-
country friend.
dire mnrem Epicaii de tnimi tnteritu
"..... Qoid !• juvat. iiiquit. ainuv. propngnare tententiam. Brgone tanta
I'r .rrupti nomorift paticntem vivcre dorao ? eriterbium pravitas, ut mures etiain
Vi» tu
filfU*
h"uuncs urlxjiiiquc fi'tT5 privponcre
atheiemum nrbe profiteantur ?" Ho —
I'nqw viiun, mihi credo,) come*: tcrrcntria
S,itin\i <i,i(l Art of Poetnj, tran-
|

quaixl" slated into Italian verse, wilh notes.

Moitolei auimaa vivunt sortiU, ncquc ulla est Milan. ITS I
 ;

CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 4.) 93

and occupations, which English poets form the most

to our
favourite subjects of description, were considered as incompati-
ble with the eleganceand dignity of poetical expression and ;

where ideas of meanness and wretchedness were associated with

the primitive and the only essential occupation of man that ;

occupation in which alone he associates his exertions with the

bounty of Providence, who (as Franklin has beautifully ob-
served) " blesses the labours of the husbandman by a continued
miracle wrought in his favour, as a reward for his innocent life

and virtuous industry."

SECT. IV. —DIGRESSION WITH RESPECT TO THE USE AND ABUSE OF

THE SPECULATION CONCERNING FINAL CAUSES IN PHILOSO-
PHICAL INQUIRIES*

The objections against the speculation concerning Final

Causes which have been hitherto under our consideration, have
been urged with the avowed design of invalidating the argu-
ment a posteriori for the existence of God. Another objection,
however, still remains to be examined, which, although it has
been frequently insisted on by authors who were far from wish-
ing to favour the cause of atheism, it is of importance for us to
obviate as completely as possible, before bringing the present
argument on account of its tendency to weaken
to a conclusion,
that species of evidence on the subject which is most level to
the apprehension of ordinary men. The objection I allude
to is founded on the supposed incompetency of the human
faculties to penetrate the designs of Providence, and on the
consequent impiety and presumption of indulging ourselves
in conjectures concerning the operations of infinite wisdom.
Descartes has insisted much on and has carried
this idea,
it so far as to reject altogether such speculations from philo-

sophy. " Let us never found any of our reasonings concern-

ing physical phenomena on the ends which we may imagine
God or nature had in view in the constitution of the universe
* [See the section of (lie Elements above referred to, p. 35]
 94 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

for this obvious reason, that we ought not to indulge so great a

degree of arrogance as to suppose ourselves privy to the divine
counsels ; but, considering God as the efficient cause of all
things, we whatever conclusions the light of reason
shall see
[lumen naturale] enables us to form from that knowledge of his
attributes which he has been pleased to enable us to attain." 1
— " And for this reason alone I am of opinion that the whole of
this speculation concerning Fined Causes is altogether useless,
because I do not think that, without rashness, we can presume
2
to investigate the designs of God/' Some observations, much
to the same purpose, are to be found in the works of Mau-
pertuis and of Buffon.
To this class of observations against Final Causes, a most
satisfactory answer is given by Mr. Boyle in an Essay written
expressly on the subject. The great merits of this excellent
person as an experimental philosopher are universally known ;

but I do not think that his general philosophical views have

attracted so much
from his successors as they ought to
notice
have done. They appear to me to be uncommonly comprehen-
sive and just, and to bear marks of a mind no less fitted for
metaphysical and moral pursuits than for physical researches.
In the work to which I refer at present, we find a pleasing
union of philosophical depth with that exalted piety which
formed a distinguished feature in the author's character. The
world he considered (as he tells us himself) " as the temple of
God, and man as born the priest
of nature, ordained (by being
qualified) to celebrate Divine Service, not only in it, but for it/'
With these views he could not fail to be irritated at the
attempts made by Descartes to explode his favourite specula-
liuii concerning final causes; and the remarks he has made in
reply to him contain a complete refutation of all that has been
since advanced with a like view by Maupertuis and Billion.
His reasonings on this subject extend to so great a length, that
it is impossible to quote them here in the author's own lan-
guage ; and 1 am unwilling to weaken their force by an imper-
fect abstract. I must therefore content myself with extracting
1
/' Pan I. I xwiii. * Mcdilatio Quarta, [sub initio]
 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 4.) 95

one of his remarks, from which the principal scope of his Essay
may be easily collected.
" Suppose that a countryman, being in a clear day brought
into the garden of some famous mathematician, should see
there one of those curious gnomonic instruments that show at
once the place of the sun in the zodiac, his declination from
the equator, the day of the month, the length of the day, &c,
&c., it would indeed be presumption in him, being unacquainted
both with the mathematical disciplines, and the several inten-
tions of the artist, to pretend or think himself able to discover
oil the ends for which so curious and elaborate a piece was
framed ; but when he sees it furnished with a style, with
horary lines and numbers, and manifestly perceives the shadow
to mark from time to time the hour of the day, it would be no
more a presumption than an error in him to conclude, that
(whatever other uses the instrument was fit or was designed
for) it is a sun-dial, that was meant to show the hour of the
1
day."
The Essay of Mr. Boyle now referred to, appears to me to be
sufficient to vindicate the investigation of Final Causes so far
as it is subservient to the proof of a Deity. At the same time,
I am ready to acknowledge, that it is a speculation extremely
liable to be abused, and which should always be conducted with
modesty and diffidence. I acknowledge, also, that it has some-
times been introduced into natural philosophy in a manner
which has led physical inquirers astray from the proper objects
of their science. The Peripatetics, in particular, have been
justly accused of blending Final and Physical Causes together,
and substituting conjectures concerning the ends which nature
had in view for an explanation of her operations. I make this
observation at present, as it furnishes me with an opportunity
ot vindicating Lord Bacon from the charge of a tendency to
atheism, which was brought against him by Cudworth,
first

and has been repeated by some modern sceptics, who wished to

:
{Essay on Final Causes.]— In the the abuses to which this research is
same Essay Mr. Boyle has offered some liable, when incautiously and presump-

very acute and judicious strictures on tuously pursued.

 — ;

96 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

justify their own aversion to the speculation about Final Causes

by Bacon's authority.
The passage to which Cudworth objects is as follows :
— " In-
credibile est quantum agmen idolorum philosophise immiserit,
naturalium operationum ad similitudinem actionum humanarum
If/' says Cudworth, " the
1 "
reductio." Advancer of Learning
here speaks of those who unskilfully attribute their own pro-
perties to inanimate bodies," (as when they say that matter
desires forms as the female does the male, and that heavy bodies
descend down by appetite towards the centre, that they may
rest therein,) " there is nothing to be reprehended in the pas-
sage. But if his meaning be extended further to take away all

final causes from the things of nature, as if nothing were done

therein for ends intended by a higher mind, then it is the very
spirit of atheism and infidelity. It is no idol of the cave or den,

(to use that affected language,) that is, no prejudice or fallacy

imposed upon ourselves, from the attributing our own animalish
properties to things without us, to think that the frame and
system of this whole world was contrived by a perfect under-
standing, being, or mind/' 2
In this passage the very learned author seems to have lost
sight of his usual candour ; and, indeed, I think it impossible
that such expressions could have escaped him, if he had had
the patience to peruse the whole of Bacon's writings, for there
is no author, ancient or modern, who lies less open to any charge
of scepticism. " I had rather believe," says he in one of his
Essays, " all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, and
the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a Miud.
It is true that a little philosophy inclineth man's mind to athe-
ism ; but depth in philosophy bringeth men's minds about to
religion ; for while the mind of man looketh upon second causes
scattered, it may sometimes rest in them and go no farther

1
"It is incredible what a host of pre- 2 Page GSO, first edition, [and Birch's.
jttdioM have been introduced into philo liook I. chap. v. The words of Cud-
sojihy by A disposition to liken natural worth, though his meaning is preserved,
operations to the actions of men." [De are not, however, here always punctili
Avgm A I \ • iv .— See On/ l.xlviii.] ouslv transoriU-d.]
 —

CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 4.) 97

but when it beholdeth the chain of them confederate and linked

together, must needs fly to Providence and to Deity. Nay,
it

even that school which is most accused of atheism, doth most

demonstrate religion, that is, the school of Leucippus, and De-
mocritus, and Epicurus. For it is a thousand times more cre-
dible that four mutable elements, and one immutable fifth
essence, duly and eternally placed, need no God, than that
an army of infinite small portions, or seeds unplaced, should
have produced this order and beauty without a Divine Mar-
shal/'*
The real state of Bacons opinion about Final Causes was
plainly this : That the consideration of them was not properly a
part of natural philosophy, but of metaphysics, or of natural
theology ; and that it was safer (at least for our physical in-
quiries) that they should be kept as distinct as possible from
all other sciences ; a caution which, although not so necessary
in the present age, was highly useful in his time, in consequence
of the absurd mixture of physical and final causes which occurs
in the writings of the Peripatetics, who then possessed an almost
unlimited influence over the opinions of the learned. That he
did not mean to censure the speculation about Final Causes,
when confined to its proper place and applied to its proper
purpose, appears from the following passage :

" The second part of Metaphysics is the investigation of

Final Causes, which I object to, not as a speculation which

ought to be omitted, but as one which is generally introduced
out of its proper place, by being connected with physical re-
searches. If this were merely a fault of arrangement, I should
not be disposed to lay great stress upon it ; for arrangement is

useful chiefly as a help to illustrate, and does not form an essen-

tial But in this
object in science. instance a disregard to method
has occasioned the most fatal consequences to philosophy, inas-
much as the consideration of final causes in physics has sup-
planted and banished the study of physical causes, the fancy
amusing itself with unsubstantial explanations derived from the
former, and diverting the curiosity from a steady prosecution of
* [Essay xvi. Of Atheism]
VOL. VII. G
 f

98 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

the latter."* After illustrating this remark by various examples,

Lord Bacon adds, — " I would not, however, be understood by
these observations to insinuate, that the final causes just men-
tioned may not be founded on truth, and in a metaphysical
view extremely worthy of attention ; but only, that when such
disquisitions invade and overrun the appropriate province of
physics, they are likely to lay waste and ruin that department
of philosophy." The whole passage concludes with these words :

" And so much concerning metaphysics ; the part of which

relating to final causes I do not deny may be met with as a

subject of discussion, both in physical and in metaphysical
treatises. But while, in the latter of these, it is introduced with

propriety, in the former it is altogether misplaced and that ;

not merely because it violates the rules of a just order, but be-
cause it operates as a powerful obstacle to the progress of
inductive science/'
This passage, while most satisfactory manner
it refutes in the
the charge brought against Bacon by Cudworth, contains some
very just remarks on the improper application made by the
Peripatetics and their followers, of the speculation concerning
final causes, —
an abuse which they carried so far as to justify
Bacon, in a work expressly destined to illustrate the true
method of inquiry in physics, to propose the complete rejection
of that speculation from natural philosophy.
In the present age, when the true method of philosophizing is

pretty generally understood, and when philosophers seem more

in danger of going wrong in natural theology than in natural
philosophy, it does not appear to me to be so necessary as
formerly to banish final causes from physics, provided always
they are kept distinct from physical causes, with which they
BCarcely in any danger (in the present state of science) of
being confounded What harm can possibly result from the
natural philosopher's remarking those instances of design which
fall under bis review iu the course of his inquiries? Or if it

should be considered as foreign to his province to speak of

he may at least be permitted to remark what ends are
* nt'firum, T,ih. Ill cap. iv translated.] [Ibid.]
|
,
f
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§4.) 99

reallyaccomplished by particular means, and what advantages

are derived by man from the general laws by which the phe-
nomena of nature are regulated. In doing this, he only states
a fact ; and if it be improper for him to go farther, he may
leave the inference to the moralist or to the divine.
In consequence, however, of the vague and commonplace
declamation against the use of final causes in physics, counte-
nanced by those detached expressions of Bacon, which have
suggested the foregoing reflections, it has become fashionable
among philosophers to omit the consideration of them entirely,
as a speculation inconsistent with the genuine spirit of induc-
tive science ; a caution (it may be remarked by the way) which
is the most scrupulously observed by those writers who are the
most forward to remark every apparent anomaly or disorder in
the economy of the universe. The effect of this has been to
divest the study of nature of its most attractive charms, and to
sacrifice to a false idea of logical rigour all the moral impres-

sions and pleasures which it is fitted to yield and even, when ;

the most striking accommodation of means to an end force

themselves upon the mind, to take no notice of such facts in
their physical speculations. Nay, what is worse, those writers
who are the remark every apparent irregularity
most forward to
in the universe never fail to remind us (if at any time we
seem to be struck with appearances of order and of wisdom)
that the consideration of final causes is altogether exploded by
that inductive philosophy which Bacon recommended, and to
which we are indebted for the sublime discoveries of Newton
and his followers. Indeed, this scholastic phrase has become
so obnoxious, that it were to be wished it coukl be laid aside,
and some simpler mode of speaking, such as ends Or uses, sub-
stituted instead of it. In the meantime, it may contribute to
smooth the way for such a change in phraseology, to employ
indiscriminately these different terms as synonymous and con-
vertible expressions.
To this that there are some parts of nature
we may add,
which we cannot be said to understand as philosophers, without
the consideration of uses. This is remarkably the case in the
 100 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. - B. III. DUTIES TO GOP.

study of anatomy. To know the structure of the body of an

animal we must not only examine the conformation of the
parts, but we must consider their./taction*, and in what way they
conspire to the preservation and health of the animal. 1 I am
inclined to think that by means of the consideration of
it is

uses that the principal anatomical discoveries have been made.

Every anatomist in his inquiries proceeds upon the maxim.
That nothing in the body of an animal was made in vain and ;

when he meets with something, the use of which is not obvious,

he feels himself dissatisfied till he discovers some at least of the
purposes to which it is subservient. We have one remarkable
instance of this recorded by Mr. Boyle.
" I remember that when I asked our famous Harvey, in the

only discourse I had with him, (which was but a little while
before he died,) what were the things which induced him to
think of a circulation of the blood ? He answered me, that
when he took notice that the valves in the veins of so many
parts of the body were so placed, that they gave free passage to
the blood towards the heart, but opposed the passage of the
venal blood the contrary way, he was invited to think that so
provident a cause as nature had not placed so many valves
without design, and no design seebied more probable than that
since the blood could not well, because of the interposing rah a,

be sent by the veins to the limbs, it should be sent through the

arteru s, and return through the veins, whose valves did not
"-
oppose its course that way.
In general it may be observed, that those philosophers who
have been most successful in detecting the secrets o\' nature,
have hem men strongly impressed with the general idea of pre-
\ ailing order and of benevolent design; and I have no doubt
that this impression contributed greatly to enlighten their

* [Essny on Fi nil Causes.]

1
'
ipar by BojV -

I>- John Wll - I I .' the? bj Dr Works. Vol. IV., folio, p. ;. some
in the Pk '
Transac remarks on this anecdote by the late oele-
N lint <>f inatomiat, Pr. William Hunter.
ee Ph. iee Pkalot vhu of the Human Mind,
N V Vol. II. pp, {$ ,hird edition.
LI,**?.]
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 4.) 101

views and to guide their investigations. It is remarked bv Dr,

Priestley, (a writer whose opinion on this question is of great
value, from the signal success of his own experimental in-
*•
quiries/! that, as true philosophy tends to promote piety, so a
generous and manly piety is reciprocally subservient to the
pur; m of philosophy ;
for while we keep in view the great
Final Cause of all the parts and the laws of nature, we have a
clue by which to trace the efficient can To the same pur-
K Priestley quotes the following remark of Hartley in his
Olservations on Man u —
Since this world is a system of bene-
:

volence, and consequently its Author the object of unbounded

love and adoration, benevolence and piety are our only true
guides in our inquiries it. the only keys which will unlock
-

the mysteries ot nature, and clues which lead through her

labyrinths. Of this all branches of natural philosophy and
natural history a bundant instances. In all these in-
quiries let the inquirer take it for granted previously that
every thing is right, and the best that can be. ca ian-
tntibus : that is. let him with a pi > ifidenoe seek for
benevolent purposes, and
he will be always directed to the
ri^ht road, and after a due continuance in it attain to some
new and valuable truth: wL ..:;.- rher principle of
examination being foreign to the great plan on which the
universe is constructed, must lead into endless mazes, err
1
and |
xitiea.*

Having said so much about the research of Final Causes in

Rhymes, I shall subjoin a few reflections on its application to
the Philosophy of the Human Mind ; a science in which the
just i lea if investigation are as yet far from being completely
understood. no stronger proof can be produced than
Of this
the confusion between Final and Efficient causes which still pre-
vails in the writing - ;r most eminent moralists. The same
confusi: - I have already obf I. may be traced in the
i
- of the schoolmen ;
but since the time of Bacon
it has been so completely corrected, that, in the wildest hypo-
1
Preface ;: IY. littery of Electric
 102 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL ROWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

theses of the eighteenth century, hardly a vestige of it is to be

found.
To the logical error just mentioned it is owing that many
so
false accounts have been given of the principles of human con-
duct, or of the motivesfrom which our actions proceed. When
the general laws of our constitution are attentively examined,
they will be found to have for their object the happiness and
improvement both of the individual and of society. This is
their final cause, or the end for which we may presume they
were destined by our Maker. But in such cases it seldom
happens, that, while man is obeying the active impulses of his
nature, he has any idea of the ultimate ends he is promoting,
or is able to calculate the remote effects of those little wheels
which he puts into motion. These active impulses may there-
fore in one sense be considered as the efficient causes of his con-
duct inasmuch as they are the means employed to determine
;

him to a particular course of action, and as they operate, at

least in the first instance, without any reflection on his part on
the ends to which they are subservient. Philosophers, how-
ever, have in every age been extremely apt, when they had dis-
covered the salutary tendency of any principle of action, to con-
clude that the principle derived its origin from a sense of this
tendency. Hence have arisen the theories which attempt to
account for all our actions from Self-love, and also those which
would resolve the whole of morality into views of Utility.
I do not know of any author who has been more completely
aware of this common error than Mr. Smith, who, in his
Theory of Moral Sentiments, always treats separately of the
final causes of the different principles he considers, and of the
mechanism (as he calls it) by which nature accomplishes the
effect. The following profound remarks show sufficiently the
opinion he had of the great importance of attending to the dis-
tinction between them.
"In every part of the universe we observe means adjusted
with the nicest artifice to the ends which they are intended to
luce, and in the mechanism of a plant body
or animal
admire how everything is contrived for advancing the two
 CHAP. II. — EXISTENCE OF GOD — PROOF A POSTERIORI. {$ 4.) 103

great purposes of nature, the support of the individual, and the

propagation of the species. But in these, and in all such
objects, we still distinguish the efficient from the final cause of
their several motionsand organizations. The digestion of the
food, the circulation of the blood, and the secretion of the
several juices which are drawn from it, are operations all of
them necessary for the great purposes of animal life, yet we
never endeavour to account for them from those purposes, as
from their efficient causes ; nor imagine that the blood cir-

culates, or that the food digests of its own accord, with a view
or intention to the purposes of circulation or digestion. The
wheels of the watch are all admirably adapted to the end for
which it was made, the pointing of the hour. All their various
motions conspire in the nicest manner to produce this effect.

If they were endowed with a desire and intention to produce it,

they could not do better. Yet we never ascribe any such in-
tention or desire to them, but to the watchmaker and we ;

know that they are put into motion by a spring, which intends
the effect it produces as little as they do. But though, in ac-
counting for the operations of bodies, we never fail to distin-

guish in this manner the Efficient from the Final Cause, in

accounting for those of the mind we are apt to confound these
two different things with one another. When by natural prin-
ciples we are led to advance those ends which a refined and
enlightened reason would recommend to us, we are very apt to
impute to that reason, as to their efficient cause, the sentiments
and actions by which we advance those ends, and to imagine
that to be the wisdom of man which in reality is the wisdom
of God. Upon a superficial view this cause seems sufficient,

and the system of human nature seems more simple and

to be
agreeable when all its different operations are in this manner
deduced from a single principle/' 1
These observations point out very plainly the errors to which
we are exposed in moral inquiries, by our disposition to con-
found together efficient and final causes. But it does not there-
fore follow, that even in such inquiries the consideration of final
1
Vol. I. p. 218, [Part II. sect. ii. chap. 3.]
104 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

causes is to be rejected. On the contrary, this very author (as

I already hinted) has frequently indulged himself in specula-
tions concerning them, and seems plainly to have considered
them as important objects of philosophical research, no less than
efficient (or, as I would rather call them, physical) causes. The
only caution to be observed is, that the one may not be con-
founded with the other.
Between these two different researches, however, there is a
very intimate connexion. In many cases the consideration of
final causes has led to the discovery of some general law of
nature, (as in the instance of the circulation of the blood, already
mentioned,) and in almost every case the discovery of a general
law points out to us clearly some wise and beneficent purposes
to which it is subservient. And it is the prospect of such ap-
plications that chiefly renders the investigation of general laws
interesting to the mind.
Among the philosophers of antiquity, no one seems to have
entertained juster notions on this subject than Socrates !
" After

many other fruitless attempts he had made in his youth to see

into the causes of things, happening to hear that Anaxagoras
taught that all things were governed by a supreme mind, and
being mightily pleased with this principle, he had recourse to
his writings, full of expectation to see the whole scheme of na-
ture explained from the perfect wisdom of an all-governing
mind, and to have all his doubts about the perfection of the
universe satisfied. But he was much disappointed when he
found that Anaxagoras made no use of this sovereign mind in
bis explications of nature, and referred nothing to the order and
perfection of the universe as its reason, but introduced certain
aerial, ethereal, and aqueous powers, and such incredible prin-
ciples for the causes of things. Upon the whole, Socrates found
thai this account of nature was DO more satisfactory than if one,
who undertook to account for the actions of Socrates, should
In with telling us that Socrates was actuated by a principle
of thought and design ; and pretending how he came
to explain
to be sitting in prison at thai time when he was condemned to
die by the unjust and ungrateful Athenians, he should acquaint
 CHAP. II. —EXISTENCE OF GOD— PROOF A POSTERIORI. (§ 4.) 105

us that the body of Socrates consisted of bones and muscles

that the bones were solid, and had their articulations, while the
muscles were capable of being contracted and extended, by
which he was enabled move
and put himself in a
to his body,
sitting posture ;
and
adding an explanation of the nature
after
of sound, and of the organs of the voice, he should boast at
length that he had thus accounted for Socrates's sitting and
conversing with his friends in prison, without taking notice of
the decree of the Athenians, and that he himself thought it was
more just and becoming to wait patiently for the execution of
their sentence, than escape to Megara or Thebes, there to live
in exile. 'Tis true/' says he, " that without bones and nerves
I should not be able to perform any action in life ; but it would
be an unaccountable way of speaking to assign those for the
reasons of my actions, while my mind is influenced by the ap-
1
pearance of what is best/'

The authority of Socrates, however, cannot be expected to

have much weight with natural philosophers in the present age
of the world. That of Sir Isaac Newton will not be disputed
on a question relating to the spirit of that inductive philosophy,
of which his writings afford the most perfect and most success-
ful exemplification hitherto given to the world. This great
man we
are told by his intimate friend Mr. Maclaurin) used
(as
sometimes to observe, " that it gave him particular pleasure to
see how much his philosophy had contributed to promote an at-
tention to Final Causes, after Descartes and others had attempted
to banish them." Mr. Maclaurin, too, (whose acquaintance with
the just rules of philosophizing will not be denied,) has re-
marked, " that of all sorts of causes, Final Causes are the most
clearly placed in our view ; and that it is difficult to compre-
hend why it should be thought arrogant in us to attend to the
design and contrivance that is so evidently displayed in nature,
and obvious to all men to maintain, for instance, that the eye
;

was made for seeing, though we may not be able either to

1
See Maclaurin 'b Account of Newton's nient of the reasonings of Socrates in
Philosophical Discoveries, [Book I. chap. the Phcedon of Plato,
ii. § 2.] — The above is a short abridg-
|0(| i mi •• .1 HV 01 • hi m. i. a i t ,.w i ttri I 111 DUT1U TO noi».

m, ,
nUltl UK •
ll mi. fill\ !.M (In i . h m. I i.'ii (.1 liflil in tli<^ 1'outn 1)1'

)||| |,..N|.||III ll.'W ill.' Illl I".' IM |'l.'|»il":llril llMlll (ho

i, I iii i I.. (Ii. iiiiii. I

|( U | I-. I. || |
,
!• . I V . J Willi I. |M , | (,. .Ill.ll.'lllP.li, t ll.lt .'ill ()f

(It. m without i \. .|'h. mi. w li.ilui |>i.<i« ••.• -,ll\ Im.ii.IIn ,m hostile
(.. (In- ii i.| in ii i.'ii oi I in il * :m . .
. .mi. iii in avail iu^ (houiNoh
,.( ii •ui.liii.. in (Iwii |>li\ i.'l.' !. il WHCHtvht'N A similar
I. Ml ill. Will I'.
1
I. 'MM. I (.• :t|>|'l\ (.< otltOI rltlNSfN .'I Nl'ioutitio

IM.jllll.l. \\ ll:l(.\,l (ll, ll j |>. vul.-llixr .'|>MM.<MN Ml. IN U\ (lu«

im. mm. n( di.ii , in j

i:iui\ , il in ( lu- pursuit of truth,
-l |'lni, ll.'l MM'l:ll. (Ill\ Ml\ ,»lllll(:ll ll\ . :linl OttoU (HU'lltlpS

mi. ,'ir.. u«ii-l\ .

miImiuI thru lMwk-i-.(:iM.lin«y. to ll lo^h' hoiTOWOil
iu i (u'Mi du- •,ii > >,'i-. ,'( a 1 1- tv^t k* m.h of B&oob The othiot)
lit phil w lu> hohi (li

iu>( vmiIn invoke: u of tho

I ho stink ot' them, iu as

as the

.> follow
...

... . .
•

CJ

I
,', *.
V ..'.',,*.'. *

V-fl* At fel «*.

/Vvi& SN
 < ;

CHAP. 11. — UU8TENGB OF OOD—PBOOl UOftl. (| 4) l<>7

doivent etre 60umis a ces lois sou v. institueei par II

Supreme: Elles sunt iinmuablos ct u
leures lois possibles ; <t par consequent la baiedu gotivei
ment le plus parfait, d la regie fondamentale d<' Urates Lei l<>is

positives; carles lois positives ne sont qui del Id "ii

tention relatives a L'ordre nature] eVidemmeni !< pit

geux au genre humain." I do not speak at : oi t Ik;

justness of those opinions ; J wish only to remark, 1 hat, in the

statement of them given by their original authors, it med
as a truth self-evident and indisputably not merely thai 1<

volent design is manifested in all the physical and moral

arrangements connected with this globe, but that the study of
these arrangements is indispensably necessary to lay a solid
foundation for political science.
The same principles appear to have Jed Mr. Smith into that
train of thinking which gave birth to his inqui;
National Wealth. "Man/' he oi of hi

manuscripts now extant, "J iisidered 1< tnen

and projectors as the materials of a sort of political me< hai
Projectors disturb nature in the (

human affairs; and it require! no more than to let b<'r a!

and give her fair play in the pursuit of her own designs." And
in another passage: ''Little else is requisite to carry
to the highest degree of Opulence from the lowest barbai
but peace, easy taxes, and a tolerable administration of just
all the rest being brought about by the natural course of th
All governments which thwart this natural course, which f

things into another channel, or which endeavour to the

progress of society at a particular point, are unnatural, and to
support themselves are obliged to be opp I snmeaL"
Various other passages of a similar import might be qtu
both from his Wealth of Nations and from his Theory of
Moral Sentiments.
This doctrine of Mr. Smith's and of Quesna/s, whic>
by explodir
to simplify the theory of legislation Jicy of
those complicated checks and restraints which swell the muni-
cipal codes of most nations, has now. I believe, become
 ;

1 I
>S PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. 111. DUTIES TO GOD.

prevailing oreed of thinking men all over Europe; and, as

commonly happens with prevailing creeds, has been pushed by
many of its partisans far beyond the views and intentions of
its original authors. Such, too, is the influence of fashion on
the one hand, ami of obnoxious phrases on the other, that it has
found some of its most zealous abettors and propagators among
waiters who would reject, without a moment's hesitation, as
superstitious and puerile, every reference to final causes in a
1
philosophical discussion.

APPENDIX*
[On the Calculus of Probabilities^ in reference to the, preceding Argu-
ment for the Existence of God, from Final Causes^]

Among the later philosophers on the continent, the advocates

for Atheism seem to me to lay the chief stress on the old Epi-
curean argument, as stated by Lucretius. The sceptical sug-
gestions on the same subject which occur in Mr. Hume's
Essay on the Idea of Necessary Connexion, and which have
given occasion to so much discussion in this country, do not
i to have ever produced any considerable impression on the
French philosophers. Very few of the number. am inclined I

to think, have thoroughly comprehended their import and ten-

dency. 1
1
See Element of the Philosophy of tions. If, in tart, originates an e\eur
Lnihin Mind, Vol. 11. Chap. iv. sive note itself. — /'.'</.]

R »rJb, Vol. III. p. 885, sag.

l
Aooording to Degerando, (/Tu-
mid ensuing Appendix.] tow* Comport*, Tom. II. pp. 151,
* [In tin- former edition this was on- 152,) Mendelsohn was the first who
titled Arri\M\ ll . end stood at the thought of opposing Home's Soeptioism
sad of th<- seoond volume. It might, ebout Cause ami Effect, bj oonsidera-
indeed, perhaps with proprietj, have tions drawn from the Calculus of Probe-
been converted into an excursive Note, bilities. This itatemenl is confirmed
more especially as the materials of whioh by Lscroix, who refers for further in-
it is OOmp hi iMf.it pari found formation to Mendelsohn's Treatise on
the Dissertation, Evidence, which obtained the |

Vol. I
n> 608-618.] from the Aeademv of Berlin in 1.

ire, however, thought it better to in D gerando himself, in his Trait e dss

icrt n heir, in th. it- oonnec Sfyneset dt VAride Tenser, (published
 , : ;

CHAP. II.- LTJ8 0F PBOBABIL::

Online se quaeque, atque sagaci mente locarunt

Nee quo* quaeque daren t mot pepigere protectd m
Bed quia moltim/viis, multis, mntata, per omoe
afinito rexantur percita plagis,
f
jr - ;/: .•'. ::..•'.-. v. -.:-.\'.: -.x:.-.-. .-.-;-..

Tandem derenhmt in taleis disposituras,

Q ..i..-. :.%.'..-. :-:'. .-. '. .:.=•. :.-.•.:-. -. ..;.;..>. .•;>.•>„

1 still mora explicitly in the following lines

Praeteritunt spatiam ; tarn motas material

Multimodi quam nnt ; facile hoc accredere possis,
Semina saspe in eodem, at none sunt, ordine pesta."*

To argument Diderot repeatedly refers in

this
ous writings; and even se let steps out of his wa

introduce it: a i tance of which occurs in his

Trait* du foam* andal&j ir. e Zta/>,

p4die.
u
Le Beau n'est pas tou Jivrage d'une cause intellige:.

louven, ;lit so conside

;ment, soi piusieurs etres compa Yen*, une
multitude prodigieuse de rapports surprenans. Les cabinets

Les rapports sont alors des resultats de naisons fortuites,

du nioins j rx>rt a- nous. La nature ir se jou
flans cent occasions, le> Poo pom
demander. je ne dis pas si ce philosop
; sur les bards ufon de se
la vne de quelques figures de g 4 wrap* w«
Amis, void des jy mme* ; mais com
de rapports dans un Itre, pour avoir une
te qui est l'ouvrage
I D quelle occasion, un

1'an Tin.) ha* adopted the tame view of the first chapter of the first discourse,

the subject, without being then aware in hiswork entitled V E*j/rif. I —

(as he assures us himself) that he had EUmemUdirt du Galad du ProbabX-
been anticipated in this speculation by
Mendelsohn.—'Ibid, p. 155, Lacroix
remarks the coincidence of opinion of * Locret. in. 867.
these different authors, with some hints * Is not this predserr the sophistical
suggtatfd by Helretius, in a note on mode «f Questioning known among logi
 — ;

110 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

seul defaut de symme'trie prouveroit plus que toute somme

donn^e de rapports) ; comment sont entr'eux le temps de
Taction de la cause fortuite, et les rapports observes dans les
effets produits ; et si (a lexception des ceuvres du Tout-Puis-
sant) y a des cas ou le nombre des rapports ne puisse jamais
il

etre compense par celui des jets/' This passage forms the
conclusion of the article Beau in the French Encyclopedic,
and, notwithstanding the parenthetical salvo in the last clause,
the drift of the argument is sufficiently obvious.
In one of the articles, however, of his Pensees Philosophiques,
Diderot has explained his meaning on this subject much more
fully.
" J'ouvre les cahiers d'un philosophe celebre, et je lis :
(
Athees
je vous accorde que le mouvement est essentiel a la matiere
qu'en concluez-vous ? que le monde resulte du jet fortuit des
atomes ? j'aimerois autant que vous me disiez que l'lliade

d'Homere ou la Henriade de Voltaire est un resultat de jets

fortuits de caracteres ?' " — " Je me garderai bien de faire ce
raisonnement a un Athee. Cette comparaison lui donneroit
beau jeu. Selon les lois de lanalyse des sorts, me diroit-il, je

ne dois point etre surpris qu'une chose arrive, lorsqu'elle est

possible, et que la difficulty de Tevenement est compensee par
la quantite des jets. Il'y a tel nombre de coups dans lesquels
je gagerois avec avantage d'amener cent mille six a-la-fois avec
cent mille dez. Quelle que fut la somme finie de caracteres
avec laquelle me proposeroit d'engendrer fortuitement
on
l'lliade, il y a telle somme finie de jets qui me rendroit la

proposition avantageuse mon avantage seroit meme infini,

;

si la quantite* de jets accordee etoit infinie." 1

cians by tho name of Sorites or Acervus ? application to that order of things which
"Vitiosum sane," says Cicero, " etcaptio- we behold, it is not less conclusive when
sum genus." Acad Qucrst. Lib. iv. xvi. applied to every other possible combi-
Penates PhUosojJtiglMt, nation of atoms which imagination can
1

xxi. See
fint volume of bis work, Nai^eon's edi- i oneeive ; and affords a mathematical
tion. With respect to the passages here proof, that the. fables of Grecian my-
extraeted from Diderot, it is worthy of and the
thology, the tales of the Genii,
•n, that, if tho atheistical argu- dreams of the Kosicrucians, may, or
ment from chonOOfl be conclusive in its rather must, all of them be somewhere
 CHAP. II. —APPENDIX — CALCULUS OF PROBABILITIES, ETC.
I Ill

The very same reasoning, in substance, has been since

brought forward by different French mathematicians ; among
others by the justly celebrated Laplace, in his Philosophical
Essay on Probabilities. I shall quote at length one of his
most remarkable reasonings.
" Au milieu des causes variables et inconnues que nous com-
prenons sous le nom de hazard, et qui rendent incertaine et
irr^guliere, la marche des evenemens on voit naitre a mesure ;

qu'ils se multiplient, une regularite frappante qui semble tenir

a un dessein, et que Ton a consideree comme une preuve de la

Providence qui gouverue le monde. Mais en y refl^chissant,
on reconnoit bientot que cette regularite n'est que le developpe-
ment des possibilites respectives des evenemens simples qui
doivent se presenter plus souvent lorsqu'ils sont plus probables.
Concevons, par exemple, une urne qui renferme des boules
blanches et des boules noires; et supposons qiva chaque fois

que Ton en une boule, on la remette dans Turne pour pro-

tire

ce'der a un nouveau tirage. Le rapport du nombre des boules

blanches extraites, au nombre des boules noires extraites, sera
le plus souvent tres-irregulier dans les premiers tirages mais ;

les causes variables de cette irregularite, produisent des effets

alternativement favorables et contraires a la marche reguliere
des evenemens, et qui se detruisent mutuellement dans Tensemble
dun grand nombre de tirages, laissent de plus en plus apper-
cevoir le rapport des boules blanches aux boules noires contenues
dans Turne, ou les possibilites respectives d'en extraire une boule
blanche ou une boule noire a chaque tirage. De la resulte le
theoreme suivant.
" La probabilite que la rapport du nombre des boules blanches

extraites, au nombre total des boules sorties, ne s'^carte pas au

dela d'un intervalle donne, du rapport du nombre des boules

realized in the infinite extent of the the subversion of the whole frame of the
universe ; a proposition which, if true, human understanding,
would destroy every argument for or I have pursued this argument farther
against any given system of opinions in the Dissertation prefixed to the
founded on the reasonableness or the un- Encyclopaedia Britannica, Part ii. pp.
reasonableness of the tenets involved in 241-243. [Supra, Works, Vol. I. pp.
it; and would of consequence lead to 585-589. Note TT.]
 112 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

blanches, ail nombre total des boules contenues dans l'urne,

approche indefiniment de la certitude, par la multiplication

indefinie des evenemens, quelque petit que Ton suppose cet

intervalle
On peut tirer du theoreme pre'ce'dent, cette consequence qui
doit etre regarde'e comme une loi generale, savoir, que les rap-
ports des effets de la nature, sont a fort peu pres constans,
quand ces effets sont considers en grand nombre. Ainsi
malgre la variete' des annees, la somme des productions pendant
un nombre d'annees, considerable, est sensiblement la merae ;

en sorte que l'homme, par une utile prevoyance, peut se mettre

a Tabri de Firregularite des saisons, en repandant egalement
sur tous les temps, les biens que la nature distribue d'une ma-
niere inegale. Je n excepte pas de la loi pre'ce'dente, les effets

dus aux causes morales. Le rapport des naissances annuelles a

la population, et celui des mariages aux naissances, n'e'prouvent
que de tres-petites variations : a Paris, le nombre des naissances
annuelles a toujours ete le meme a peu pres ; et j'ai oui dire
qu a la poste, dans les temps ordinaires, le nombre des lettres
mises au rebut par les defauts des adresses, change peu, chaque
annee ; ce qui a et^ pareillement observe a Londres.
u II suit encore de ce theoreme, que dans une serie d'e'vene-

mens, indefiniment prolonged, Taction des causes regulieres et

constantes doit l'emporter a la longue, sur celle des causes irre-
gulieres
u Si Ton applique ce theoreme au rapport des naissances des

garcons a celles des filles, observe dans les diverses parties de

TEurope ; on trouve que ce rapport, partout a peu pres egal a
celui de 22 a 21, indique avec une extreme probabilite, une plus
grande facilite dans les naissances des garcons. En considerant
ensuite qu'il est la meme a Naples qu'a Petersbourg, on verra
qu'a cet egard, rinfluence du climat est insensible. On pouvoit
done soupconner contre l'opinion commune, que cette supe*riorite
des naissances masculines subsists dans l'orient meme. J'avais
en consequence invitr lea Bavans Fran9ais envoyes en Egypte,
a s'occuper de cette question intercssante ; maifl la difficult^
d'obtenir dee renseignemena precis sur les naissances ne leur a
 —
chap. ir. appendix: — calculus of probabilities, etc. 113

pas permis de la resoudre. Heureusement, Humboldt n'a point

neglige cet objet dans rimmensite des choses nouvelles qu'il a
observees et recueillies en Amerique, avec tant de sagacite, de
Constance, et de courage. II a retrouve entre les tropiques le

meme rapport des naissances des garcons a celles des fllles, que
Ton observe a Paris ; ce qui doit faire regarder la superiorite*
des naissances masculines, comme une loi generale de l'espece
humaine. Les lois que suivent a cet egard, les divers especes
d'animaux, me paraissent dignes de l'attentiou des natu-
1
ralistes."

From these quotations, it appears that the constancy in the

proportion of births to the whole population of a country, in
that of births to marriages, and in that of male children to
females, are considered by Laplace as facts of the same kind,
and to be accounted for in the same way with the very narrow
limits within which the number of misdirected letters in the
General Post-Office of Paris varies from year to year. The
same thing, he tells us, has been observed in the Dead-Letter
Office at London. But as he mentions both these last facts
merely on the authority of a hearsay, I do not know to what
degree of credit they are entitled, and I shall therefore leave
them entirely out of our consideration in the present argument.
The meaning which Laplace wished to convey by this compari-
son cannot be mistaken.
Among the different facts in political arithmetic here alluded
to by Laplace, that of the constancy in the proportion of male
to female births, (which he himself pronounces to be a general
law of our species,) is the most exactly analogous to the ex-
ample of the urn containing a mixture of white and of black
balls, from which he deduces his general theorem. I shall

accordingly select this in preference to the others. The intelli-

gent reader will at once perceive that the same reasoning is

equally applicable to all of them.

Let us suppose, then, that the white balls in Laplace's urn

1
Essai Philosophique sur les Proba- but the passage has been partially mo-
bilitis, par M. le Cointe Laplace. 3me dified.]— See Note C.
edit. pp. 73-76; [2de edit. pp. 93-99;

VOL. VII. H
 J

114 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

represent male infants, and the black balls female infants, upon
which supposition, the longer that the operation (described by
Laplace) of drawing and returning the balls is continued, the
nearer will the proportion of white to black balls approach to
that of 22 to 21. What inference (according to Laplace's own
theorem) ought we to deduce from this, but that the whole
number of white balls in the urn is to the wliole number of
black balls in the same proportion of 22 to 21 or, in other ;

words, that this is the proportion of the whole number of

unborn males to the whole number of unborn females in the
womb of futurity ? And yet this inference is regarded by La-
place as a proof that the approximation to equality in the num-
ber of the two sexes affords no evidence of foresight or design.
" La Constance de la superiorite des naissances des garcons
sur celles des filles, a Paris et a Londres, depuis qu'on les ob-
serve, a paru a quelques savans, etre une preuve de la Providence
sans laquelle ils ont pense que les causes irregulieres qui
troublent sans cesse la marche des evenemens, auroit du plu-
sieurs fois rendre les naissances annuelles des filles, sup£rieures
a celle des garcons.
" Mais cette preuve est un nouvel exemple de Tabus que Ton
a fait si souvent des causes finales qui disparaissent toujours par
un examen approfondi des questions, lorsqu'on a les donnees
necessaires pour les resoudre. La Constance dont il s'agit, est
un resultat des causes regulieres qui donnent la superiorite
aux naissances des garcons, et qui 1'emportent sur les anomalies
dues au hazard, lorsque le nombre des naissances annuelles est
considerables." 1
With the proposition announced in the last sentence I per-
fectly agree. That the constancy of the results, in the instance
now in question, depends on regular causes, (which in this case
is merely a synonymous expression with general laws,) the most
zealous advocates for a designing cause will be the most forward
to admit ; and if Laplace means nothing more than to say, that
the uniformity of the effect, when observed on a large scale,
may be sufficiently explained without supposing the miraculous
1
Il)id. pp. 84, 85— [3me edition ; 2do edition pp. 103, 104.
 —

chap. ir. appendix: — calculus of probabilities, etc. 115

interference of Providence in each individual birth, the ques -

seem worthy of a controversy. If the person who

tion does not
put the white and black balls into the urn had wished to secure
the actual result of the drawing, what other means could he
have employed for the purpose than to adjust to each other the
number of both
relative proportions of these balls in the whole, '!

Could any proof more demonstrative be given that this was the
very end he had in view ?
Nor do I think that the authors whom Laplace opposes ever
meant to dispute the operation of these regular causes. Dr.
Arbuthnot, certainly, one of the earliest writers in this country
who brought forward the regular proportion between male and
female births as an argument in favour of wise design, not only
agrees in this point with Laplace, but has proposed a physical
theory to account for this regularity. The theory is, indeed,
too ludicrous to deserve a moment's consideration ; but it at
leastshows that Laplace has advanced nothing in favour of his
conclusions which had not been previously granted by his
adversaries.

The following strictures* on the Philosophical Essay of

Laplace have all a reference, more or less direct, to the argu-
ment stated in the foregoing Appendix.
Under the general title of the doctrine of Probabilities two
very different things are confounded together by Laplace, as
well as by many other writers of an earlier date. The one is

the purely mathematical theory of chances ; the other the

inductive anticipations of future events deduced from observa-
tions on the past course of nature. The calculations about
dice furnish the simplest of all examples of the first sort of
theory. The conclusions to which they lead are as rigorously
exact as any other arithmetical propositions; amounting to
nothing more than a numerical statement of the ways in which
a given event may happen, compared with those in which it
* [In the former edition these were entitled Appendix III., and arranged ac-

cordingly.]
 —

1 16 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

may not happen. Thus, in the case of a single die, the chance
that ace shall turn up at the first throw, is to the chances

against that event as one to five. The more complicated cases

of the prohlem all depend on the application of the same funda-
mental principle. " This principle," as Condorcet has well

remarked, " is only a definition (une verite de definition :) and

consequently the calculations founded on it are all rigorously
true/' 1
To this theory of chances Laplace labours, through the whole
of his work, to assimilate all the other cases in which mathe-
matics are applied to the calculus of probabilities ; and I have
no doubt that he would have readily subscribed to the follow-
ing proposition of Condorcet, although I do not recollect that
he has anywhere sanctioned it expressly by his authority. " Le
motif de croire que sur dix millions de boules blanches melees
avec une noire ce ne sera point la noire que je tirerai du premier
coup est de la meme nature que le motif de croire que le soleil

ne manquera pas de se lever demain ; et les deux opinions ne

different entrelles que par le plus et le moins de probabilites."
The only writers, as far as I know, by whom this position of
Condorcet has yet been controverted, are MM. Prevost and
L'Huillier of Geneva, in a very able paper published in the
2
Memoirs of the Boyal Academy of Berlin for the year 1796.
After quoting from Condorcet the passage I have transcribed
above, these learned and ingenious philosophers proceed thus :

" La persuasion analogique qu'e'prouve tout homme de voir

se repeter un evenement naturel (tel que le lever du soleil) est

d'un genre different de la persuasion representee par une
fraction dans la Th£orie des Probabilites. Celle-ci peut lui
etre ajoutee,mais Tune peut exister sans l'autre. Elles de-
pendent de deux ordres de facultes differents. Un enfant, un
animal dprouve la premiere, et ne forme aucun calcul explicite,

1
Essai siir V Application de V A n ai yse doubtful if my memory may not hare
(i In Probability des Decisions vendues deceived me with respect to the volume
n la plurality drs voir.— Disc. Prelim. of the Berlin Memoirs
which it ap-
in

P- 11. penred. The which I copy

extracts,
2
As I have not access nt present to from a manuscript of my own, are, 1
the paper referred to, I nm somewhat trust, substantially correct.
 CHAP. II. —APPENDIX — CALCULUS OF PROBABILITIES,
I ETC. 117

ni meme implicite. II n'y a aucune dependance necessaire

entre ces deux persuasions. Celle que le calcul apprecie est
raisonnee et meme jusqu'a un certain point artificielle. L autre
est d'instinct et naturelle. Elle de*pend de queJques facultes
intellectuelles dont l'analyse n'est pas facile, et probablement
en tres-grande partie du principe de la liaison des idees.
" Je veux prouver maintenant, que tout cet appareil de me-
thode, si beau, et si utile, par lequel on arrive a calculer la
probabilite's des causes par ses effets, suppose une estimation
anterieure de cette meme probabilite ; et qu'en particulier dans
toutes les applications interessantes qu'on peut faire de ce
calcul,nous sommes necessairement guides par un instinct
de persuasion, inappreciable en degr£, et que tous nos rai-
sonnemens sur cet objet dependent de notre confiance en un
principe de croyance que le calcul des probabilite's ne peut
estimer.
" . . . . y a dans l'homme un principe
Je dis done, qu'il

(qu'on peut noinmer instinct de croyance) que suppose toute

application du calcul des probabilite's. Tant qu'on raisonne
dans l'abstrait, on nest point appele* a se rendre compte des
raisons sur on fonde l'estimation de la probabilite
lesquelles
d'une chance. Mais dans tous les cas concrets ou particuliers,
on ne peut determiner cette probabilite, que par voie d'experi-
ence. Or les cas passes n'etant pas lies aux cas a venir, nous
ne les envisageons comme devant donner les memes resultats,
que par le sentiment sourd irresistible que nous fait admettre
la Constance des lois de la nature. Si Ton prend l'exemple d'un
de, on verra que pour arriver a lui donner la construction que
le joueur a en vue, l'artiste finalement n'a pu se guider que
par quelques experiences anterieures sur de tels instrumens
ale*atoires, et sur celui-la en particulier. Lors done quil espere
les memes effets, il se fonde sur une preVoyance dont la raison
ne peut etre apprecie par le calcul. Et cest en vain qu'on
voudroit sortir de ce cercle, en remontant de cause en cause ;

car finalement, toute probabilite* qu'on voudra estimer stochas-

tiquement, se reduira a cet embleme. On determine la pro-

babilite de vie par des tables empiriques ; et il en est de

118 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

me me de la probability des phenomenes meteorologiques, et

autres."
Dr. Price in his Dissertation on Historical Evidence, and
also in an Essay published in Vol. LIII. of the Philosophical
Transactions, has fallen into a train of thinking exactly similar
to that quoted above from Condorcet. 1 The passage here re-

ferred worthy of perusal

to is well but, on the slightest ;

examination, it must appear to every intelligent reader to be

liable to the very same objections which have been so strongly
urged against Condorcet's principles by MM. Prevost and
L'Huillier.
u and expect that
" We trust experience/' says Dr. Price, the
future should resemble the past in the course of Nature, for
the very same reason that, supposing ourselves otherwise in
the dark, we should conclude that a die which has turned an
ace oftenest in past trials is mostly and con- marked with aces,

sequently should expect that it will go on to turn the same

number oftenest in future trials." 2 " And so far is it from —
being true, that the understanding is not the faculty which
teaches us to rely on experience, that it is capable of deter-
mining in all cases what conclusions ought to be drawn from
it, and what precise degree of confidence should be placed
in it" 8
Nothing can be more evident than this, that it is not upon
any reasoning of this sort that children proceed, when they
anticipate the continuance of those laws of Nature, a know-
ledge of which is indispensably necessary for the preservation
of their animal existence. Mr. Hume, although he plainly
leaned to the opinion, that this anticipation may be accounted
for by the Association of Ideas, has yet, with the most philoso-
phical propriety, given it the name of an instinct* inasmuch as
it manifests itself in infants long before the dawn of reason,
and is as evidently the result of an arrangement of Nature, as

1
Bee Prioe'a Distertations, p. 388, * [Sec Essays, Vol. II.; Inquiry
f.t seq. concerning Human Understanding,
2
Ibid. p. 899 Sect. v. part 1 and part 2; sect. xii.
• Ibid. p. 398. part 1 and part 2 . alibi.]
 ;

CHAP. II. —APPENDIX: — CALCULUS OF PROBABILITIES, ETC. 119

if it were implanted immediately in their frame by her own

hand. It is indeed an instinct common to man and to the
brute creation.
That we are able, in many cases, to calculate, with mathe-
matical precision, the probability of future events is indisputa-
ble ; but so far is from affording any argument against
this
the instinctive anticipation, the existence of which Dr. Price
denies, that all these calculations take for granted (as M. Pre*-
vost has observed) that uniformity in the course of Nature
which we are thus led to anticipate. The calculations, it is
true, imply at every step the exercise of the understanding
but that no process of the understanding can account for the
origin of the fundamental assumption on which they proceed,
has been shown by Mr. Hume (according to my judgment)
with demonstrative evidence.
 CHAPTER III.

OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY.

The observations made in the last article contain some of

the principal heads of the argument for the existence of God,
and also for his unity, for his power, and for his wisdom. Of
the two last of these attributes, we justly say that they are
infinite ; that is, that our conceptions of them always rise in
proportion as our faculties are cultivated, and as our knowledge
of the universe becomes more extensive. The writers on natural
religion commonly give a particular enumeration of attributes,
which they divide into the Natural, the Intellectual, and the
Moral and of which they treat at length in a systematical
;

manner. This view of the subject, whatever may be its ad-

vantages, could not be adopted with propriety here. The
remarks which follow are confined to the evidences of the Divine
goodness and justice ; those attributes which constitute the
moral perfections of the Deity, and which render him the
proper object of religious worship.
In applying to the Deity the phrase moral attributes, I express
myself in conformity to common language ; but the object of
the following speculations will be better understood when I say,
that the scope of my reasonings is to show, in the first place, that
there are evidences of benevolent design in the universe ; and,
secondly, that there are evidences of a moral government exor-
cised over man by means of rewards and punishments ; or, in
other words, that the constitution of the human mind, and the
course of human affairs, prove that the reward of virtue, and
the punishment of vice, is the aim of the general laws by which
the world is governed.
 CHAP. III. —THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 121

SECT. I. — OF THE EVIDENCES OF BENEVOLENT DESIGN IN THE

UNIVERSE.

In entering on this subject, we may lay it down as a

fundamental principle, that our ideas of the moral attributes
of God must be derived from our own moral perceptions. It
is only by attending to these that we can form a conception of
what his attributes are ; and it is in this way we are furnished
with the strongest proofs that they really belong to him.
In the course of our inquiries into the principles of morals,
it formerly appeared that the power of distinguishing right
from wrong is one of the most remarkable circumstances which
raise man above the brutes and indeed, ; I apprehend, it is chiefly
this modification of reason we have in view, when we employ
that word to express the exclusive characteristic of the human
race among the various inhabitants of the globe. I endeavoured
farther to show, that to act in conformity to this sense of recti-
tude is the highest excellence which man is capable of attain-
ing ; insomuch, that, in comparison of moral worth, the most
splendid intellectual endowments appear insignificant and con-
temptible. Nor do these ideas apply only to our own species.

I beforeshowed that the constitution of our nature determines

us to conceive the distinction between Eight and Wrong as
Eternal and Immutable not as arising from an arbitrary ac-
;

commodation of our frame to the qualities of external objects,

like the distinction between agreeable and disagreeable tastes
or smells, but as a distinction necessary and essential, and
independent of the will of any being whatever, — analogous in

this respect to that between mathematical truth and falsehood.

We are justified, therefore, in drawing inferences from our own
moral judgments with respect to the moral administration of
the Deity, on the same ground on which we conclude that
what appears to us to be demonstrably true must appear in
the same light to all other intelligent beings. And as moral
worth is the highest excellence competent to our own nature,
we are justified in ranking moral excellence among those
 122 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

attributes of God which more peculiarly claim our love and

adoration. 1
But not to insist on this metaphysical view of the subject, it

is evident, that, if we believe that we have derived our exist-

ence from the Deity, we must ascribe to him, in an infinite

degree, all those powers and perfections which he has com-
municated to us, or which he has rendered us capable of ac-
quiring. From our own imperfect knoivledge we must ascribe
to him omniscience ; from our limited ascribe power we must
to him omnipotence ; and, a fortiori from our moral percep- ',

tions we must ascribe to him unerring moral rectitude, and

goodness unbounded towards his whole creation.
In opposition to this mode of reasoning, sceptics have fre-
quently urged the impropriety of forming a deity after our own
image and have represented the argument I stated for the
;

moral attributes of God as arising from the same illusion of

the imagination which leads the vulgar to ascribe to him the
human form and organs of perception analogous to our own.
But the comparison is by no means just. There is obviously a
wide distinction between the possession of a power, and the
being limited to the exercise of that pow er in a particular way. T

The former is always a perfection, the latter is a mark of an

imperfect and dependent being. Thus the possession of know-
ledge is a perfection, and we may venture to ascribe it in an
infinite degree to the Deity ; but it would be rash in us, from
what we experience in ourselves, to conclude that the Deity in-
vestigates truth by those slow processes of deduction which are
suited to the weakness of the human faculties. In like manner,
although it would be absurd to suppose that the Deity hears
and sees in a way analogous to what we experience in ourselves,
we may without impiety conclude, nay, we must from the fact
he possesses in an infinite degree of perfection all
believe, that
our powers of perception, because it is from him that we have
received them. " He that made the eye shall he not see ? He
that made the ear shall he not hear ?" —Not indeed by means
1
On this ratyocl sro Cuchrortn, In- in Birch's edition; find in Moehciru's
ieUrctunl Sijsfem, p. 204. | the same translation. Lib. I. cap. !. { 9.]
 CHAP. III. —OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 123

of bodily organs similar to ours, but in some way far above the
reach of our comprehension.
The argument which these considerations afford for the
great and important truth I wish to establish at present, is

irresistible. Moral excellence appears obviously to constitute

the chief perfection of the human mind and we cannot help
;

considering the moral attributes of God as claiming, in a more

especial manner, our love and adoration than either his wisdom
or power.
With respect to that particular attribute of the Deity, to
which the following reasonings more immediately relate, the
general argument applies with singular force. The peculiar
sentiment of approbation with which we regard the virtue of
beneficence in others, and the peculiar satisfaction with which
we reflect on such of our actions as have contributed to the
happiness of mankind to which we may add the exquisite
;

pleasure accompanying the exercise of all the kind affections,

naturally lead us to consider benevolence or goodness as the
supreme attribute of God. It is difficult indeed to conceive
what other motive could have induced a Being, completely and
independently happy, to call his creatures into existence.
In this manner then, without going farther than our own
moral perceptions, we have a strong argument for the moral
attributes of God and this argument will strike us with the
:

greater force in proportion to the culture which our moral per-

ceptions have received. The same observation may be applied
to the moral argument for a future state. The effect of both
these arguments on the mind may be in a great measure
destroyed by dissipation and profligacy or (on the other hand)
;

by a sedulous and reverential attention to the moral sugges-

tions of our own breasts, it may be identified with all our habits
of thought and of action. It is owing to this that, while the
truths of natural religion are regarded by some as the dreams
of a warm imagination, they command the assent of others
(e
with the evidence of intuitive certainty. Be persuaded," says
Shaftesbury, " that wisdom is more from the heart than from
the head. Feel goodness, and you will see all things fair and
 ;

124 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

good."
—" Dwell with honesty, and beauty, and order study ;

and love what is of this kind, and in time you will know and
1
love the Author."
Impressed with a conviction of the justness and importance
of this remark, I have always been of opinion that those who
have written in defence of natural religion, have insisted too
much on the cold metaphysical argument, which can only prove
the power and wisdom of the Deity, and have addressed them-
selves too little to our moral constitution. It must be owing

to this that some sceptical writers, who have admitted the evi-
dence for the physical attributes of God, have denied or doubted
of the evidence for his moral attributes. This in particular
2
was the case with Lord Bolingbroke. The arguments for the
physical attributes are addressed to the understanding alone
those for the moral attributes to the heart. If you wish to con-
vince a person who affects to be sceptical on this subject, you
must begin with attempting to rouse his moral feelings. Con-
vince him and inspire him with
of the dignity of his nature,
the love of virtue and of mankind, and you have gone far
towards accomplishing your object. Just and comfortable
views of Providence, and of man's future destination, will follow
of course. And here, by the way, we may remark the additional
reason which these considerations suggest, why the study of na-
tural religion should not be considered as the foundation of moral
philosophy, inasmuch as they show that just views of religion
presuppose an examination of the moral constitution of man.
The foregoing reasonings rest entirely on our own moral per-
ceptions, without any reference to facts collected from without;
and apprehend that it is only after establishing a priori this
I
presumption for the divine goodness that we can proceed to
examine the fact with safety. It is true, indeed, that, inde-
pendently of this presumption, the disorders we 6ee would not
demonstrate ill intention in the Author of the Universe, as it

would be still possible that the apparent disorders in that small

part of it which falls under our observation might contribute
1

Letitn to a Student «t the, Uniivr * Fhiloeophical Wbrkt, Vol. IV. wc-

"''.'/, fatter ri Hons xl. xli.
 CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 125

to the happiness and perfection of the whole system. But the

contrary supposition would be equally possible, that there is
nothing absolutely good in the universe, and that the com-
munication of suffering is the ultimate end of the laws by which
it is governed.
The argument for the goodness of God, derived from our
own moral constitution, and strengthened by the consideration
of our ignorance of the plans of Providence, affords an answer
to all the objections which have been urged against this attri-
bute of the Deity. And the answer is conclusive, whatever the
state of the fact may be with respect to the magnitude of the
evils ofwhich we complain.
" Imagine only," says Shaftesbury, " some person entirely a
stranger to navigation, and ignorant of the nature of sea or
waters : How great his astonishment, when, finding himself on
board some vessel anchored at sea remote from all land pros-
was yet a calm, he viewed the ponderous machine
pect, whilst it
firm and motionless in the midst of the smooth ocean, and con-
sidered its foundation beneath, together with its cordage, masts,
and sails above — how easily would he see the whole one regular
structure, all things depending on another ; the uses of the
rooms below, the lodgements, and the conveniences of men and
stores ? But, being ignorant of the intent or design of all

above, would he pronounce the masts and cordage to be useless

and cumbersome, and for this reason condemn the frame and
despise the Architect ? my friend ! let us not thus betray
our ignorance, but consider where we are, and in what an uni-
verse. Think of the many parts of the vast machine in which
we have so little insight, and of which it is impossible we
should know the ends and uses when, instead of seeing to the
:

highest pendants, we see only some lower deck, and are in this
dark case of flesh confined even to the hold and meanest station
of the vessel."*
But although this answer might silence our objections, some-
thing more is requisite on a subject so momentous, to support

* [Characteristics, Vol. II. The Moralists, Part ii. sect. 4, p. 289, edition of

1711.]
 —

126 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

our confidence, and to animate our hopes. If no account could

be given of the evils of life, but that they may possibly be good
relatively to the whole universe ; — still more, if it should appear
that the sufferings of life overbalance its enjoyments, it could
hardly be expected that any speculative reasoning would have
much effect in banishing the melancholy suggestions of scep-
ticism. We are therefore naturally led, in the first place, to
inquire whether some explanation may not be given of the
origin of from a consideration of the facts which fall under
evil,

our notice and, secondly, to compare together the happiness

;

and the misery which the world exhibits.

The question concerning from the

the origin of evil has,
earliest times, employed the ingenuity of speculative men and ;

various theories have been proposed to solve the difficulty

The most celebrated of these are the following :

(1.) The Doctrine of Pre-existence.

(2.) The Doctrine of the Manichaeans.

(3.) The Doctrine of Optimism.

1. According to the first hypothesis, the evils we suffer at

present are punishments and expiations of moral delinquencies

committed in a former stage of our being.
This was a favourite opinion of the ancient philosophers,
and is maintained by Socrates in the Phozdon of Plato, where
the first idea of the doctrine seems to be ascribed to Orpheus
as its author. 1 " The disciples of Orpheus/' says he, " called
the body a prison, because the soul is here in a state of pun-
ishment till it has expiated the faults that it committed in
Heaven. Souls that are too much given to bodily pleasures,
and are in a manner besotted, wander upon the earth, and are
put into new bodies ; for all sensuality and passion cause the
soul to have a stronger attachment to the body, make her fancy
that she is of the same nature, and render her in a manner
corporeal, so that 6he contracts an incapacity of flying away
into another life. Oppressed with the weight of her impurity
1
Bet Rium.'w'H Discourse on the the The oloejy of the A vcients, (appended
Mythology of the P„(,nns. [Part II. of to his Travels of Cyrus,) pp. 80. 87.]
 CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 127

and corruption, she sinks again into matter, and becomes

thereby disabled to remount towards the regions of purity, and
attain to a re-union with her principle."*
In the dialogue entitled Politicus, Plato, mentioning this
primitive state of man, calls it the reign of Saturn, and de-
scribes it thus :
— " God was then the Prince and common
Father of all ; he governed the world by himself, as he governs
it now by inferior deities ; rage and cruelty did not then pre-
vail upon earth ; war and sedition were not so
known. much as
God himself took care of the sustenance of mankind, and was
their guardian and shepherd. There were no magistrates nor
civil polity as there are now. In those happy days men sprung
out of the bosom of the earth, which produced them of itself

like flowers and trees. The and corn

fertile fields yielded fruits

without the labour of tillage. Mankind stood in no need of

raiment to cover their bodies, being troubled with no inclem-
ency of the seasons ; and they took their rest on turf of -a per-
petual verdure. Under the reign of Jupiter, Saturn, the master
of the universe, having quitted the reins of his empire, hid him-
self in an inaccessible retreat. The inferior gods who governed
under him retired likewise ; the very foundations of the world
were shaken by motions contrary to its principle and its end,
and it lost its beauty and its lustre. Then it was that good
and evil were blended together. But in the end, lest the world
should be plunged in an eternal abyss of confusion, God, the
Author of the Primitive Order, will appear again and resume
the reins of empire. Then he
amend, embellish, will change,

and restore the whole frame of nature, and put an end to decay,
to age, to diseases, and to death." f
In order to understand some expressions in the foregoing
passage, it is necessary to know that Plato gave the name of the

first earth to the placewhere souls made their abode before

their degradation. The earth," he says, " is immense we

" ;

know, and we inhabit only a small corner of it. That ethereal

earth, the ancient abode of souls, is placed in the pure regions

^* ote Tte reference to

* [Ramsay gives his own summary, f [See Iast -

not a translation of Plato.] himself is pp. 93 95.]

 — ;

128 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

of Heaven, where the stars are seated. We that live in this

low abyss are apt enough to fancy that we are in a high place,
and we call the air the heavens : just like a man that from the
bottom of the sea should view the sun and the stars through
the water, and fancy the ocean to be the firmament itself. But
if we had wings to mount on high, we should see that there is

the true Heaven, the true light, and the true earth. As in the

sea everything is altered and disfigured by the salts that abound

in it, so in our present earth everything is deformed, corrupted,
and in a ruinous condition, if compared with the primitive
earth." Of this ethereal earth, whereof ours is only a broken
crust, Plato gives afterwards a magnificent description. w Every-
thing there," says he, " was beautiful, harmonious, and trans-
parent ; fruits of an excellent taste grew there naturally ; and
it was watered with rivers of nectar. They there breathed the
light, as we here breathe the air, and they drank waters purer
than air itself."*

The sublimity of some of these ideas cannot be disputed

and would lead into a wide field of interesting disquisition,
it

to trace their origin and their connexion with other systems

which have been adopted in different countries. At present, we
are concerned with this doctrine only in so far as it is offered
as an account of the origin of evil ; and for this purpose it is

sufficient toremark 1st, That it is merely an hypothesis, un-

supported by any evidence and 2c?, That the hypothesis (even
;

if we were to admit it) only removes the difficulty a little out

of sight, without affording any explanation of it. If the per-

mission of evil, in any former stage of our being, was consistent
with the perfections of God, why not in that state which we
occupy at present ? I pass over various weighty objections
which might be founded on the "absurdity of supposing the soul
to expiate, by its present sufferings, faults of which it does not
now any remembrance, and for which, of consequence, it
retain
ran not feel any remorse a supposition plainly inconsistent with
;

itself, inasmuch as the only effect of punishment, as a remedy

* [See Phrnlo, Seel. 60, Mq.f Wytt. Sect. 130, se>]., oliis. The reference to

RaasMj is \<\< B8-90.]

CHAP. III. —OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 129

for our moral diseases, must arise from the experimental warn-
ing it affords to the delinquent of the inseparable connexion
between vice and misery.
2c?, The second theory that was mentioned with respect to
the origin of evil, is that of the Manichasans, who endeavour to
obviate the difficulty by the opposite agencies of two co- eternal
and independent principles, the one the author of all the good,
the other of all the evil in the universe.
This theory derives name from Manichseus or Manes^ a
its

Chaldean or Babylonian by birth, who was born about the year

240 of the Christian era. The theory, however, is of a much
more early origin, having been taught by the Persian Magi,
whose doctrines on the subject are fully explained by Plutarch
in his Treatise of Isis and Osiris* " Zoroaster," he tells us,
" taught that there are two gods, contrary to each other in their

operations a good and an evil principle.

; To the former he
gave the name of Oromazes, and to the latter that of Arimanius.
The one, he says, resembles light and truth, the other darkness
and ignorance. There is likewise a middle god between these
two, named Mithras. The Magi add, that Oromazes is born
of the purest light, and Arimanius of darkness that they con- ;

tinually make war upon one another and that Oromazes made;

six genii —
Goodness, Truth, Justice, Wisdom, Plenty, and Joy;
and Arimanius made six others to oppose them Malice, False- —
hood, Injustice, Folly, Want, and Sadness." They hold farther,
that " a time will come, appointed by Fate, when Arimanius
will be entirely destroyed and extirpated the earth will change;

its form, and become plain and even and happy men will have
;

only one and the same life, language, and government." 1

Of the particular form in which this doctrine was afterwards
proposed by Manes, a full account is given by Beausobre in his
History of Manicliaiism, an abstract of which account may be
found in Jortin's Remarks on Ecclesiastical History. It is not
worth our while at present to enter into any details on the subject.
In modern times, M. Bayle has employed all the powers of
* [Plufarchi Opera, Tom. II. p. 369,
1
See Ramsay, On the Mythology of
editiones Xylandri.] the Ancients.

VOL. VII. I
130 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

his lively and acute genius in adorning the Manichaean system,

and in representing it as the most plausible of all the solutions
that have ever been proposed of the origin of evil. He grants,
at the same time, that and hence
this system is indefensible ;

takes occasion to insinuate the futility of human reason, and to

recommend to his readers an unlimited scepticism as the most
important lesson to be learned from the controversy.
The celebrity of M. Bayle's name has induced several writers
of eminence to examine this part of his works with a greater
degree of attention than so very absurd a speculation seems to
have merited. Among others Le Clerc, first in his Parrha-
siana, and afterwards in his Bibliotheque Clwisie. I shall not
enter at all into the discussion, nor even attempt a statement of
the reasonings a priori which have been urged in opposition to
Bayle. A sufficient refutation of his opinions on this point
may, I hope, be derived from what has been already advanced
in proof of the unity of design manifested in every part of
nature ; a proposition which I shall have occasion to illus-

more fully in the farther prosecution of this argu-

trate still
ment, and which appears to have struck Mr. Hume himself
so forcibly, that he rejects the supposition of two opposite
principles " as altogether unsuitable to the phenomena of the
universe."*
Before leaving this head it may be worth while to remark,
that what we know of the tenets of this sect is derived entirely
from the writings of their adversaries, as none of their own have
survived to modern times. The most authentic documents of
them may unquestionably be collected from the works of St.
Augustine, who was himself educated in the heretical opinions of
the Manichfieans, and did not abandon them till he was able to
think and to judge for himself. It may be reasonably presumed,
therefore, not only that he was thoroughly acquainted with the
details of their history, but that he represents them without
any undue prejudice against their spirit and tendency.
3f/, The fundamental principle of the Optimists is, that all
tits are ordered for the best; and that the evils which we
* !
I
Hfi Natural Religion, Part xi.J
 —

CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 131

suffer are parts of a great system conducted by Almighty power

under the direction of infinite wisdom and goodness.
Under this general title, however, are comprehended two
very different descriptions of philosophers, — those who admit,
and those who deny the freedom of human actions and the
accountableness of man as a moral agent. The former only
contend that everything is right, so far as it is the work of
God and endeavour to show that the creation of beings
;

endowed with free-will, and consequently liable to moral

delinquency and the government of the world by general
;

laws, from winch occasional evils must result, furnish no solid

objection to the perfection of the universe. But they hold at
the same time, that, although the permission of moral evil does
not detract from the goodness of God. it is nevertheless im-
putable to man as a fault, and renders him justly obnoxious to
punishment. This system (under a variety of different forms)
has been in all ages maintained by the best and wisest philo-
sophers, who, while they were anxious to vindicate the perfec-
tions of the Deity, saw the importance of stating their doctrine
in a manner consistent with man's free-will and moral agency.
I need .scarcely add, that this is precisely the doc-trine of Scrip-
"
The Judge of the whole earth, shall he not do right
'•'
ture. ?
— " It is impossible but that offences will come ;
but woe unto
him through whom they come/' 1

It is of great importance to attend to the distinction between

these two systems, because customary among sceptical writers
it is

to confound them studiouslv together, in order to extend to

1
[Gen. xviii. 25: Luke xvii. 1." •would have been very defective without
u and
The result of what Locke advances on this, which i the life spirit of
this subje - Dr. Wanon, 'is. — the whole a — Wartcn's Notes
that we have a power of doing what we on Pope.
will. If it be the occasion of disorder, In what part of Lock ¥ ar-

:ie cause of order, of all the moral ton found the above passage he has not
order that appears in the world. Had mentioned : and I confess I have some
libertybeen excluded, virtue had been suspicion that he has committed a
excluded with it. And if this had been take with rr- the author. The
the case, the world could have had no passage, however, does Locke no dis-
charms, no beauties sufficient to and I have no doubt expresses
commend ithim who made it. In
to his rea.
short, all other powers and perfections
132 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

both that ridicule to which the latter is justly entitled. This

in particular was the case with Voltaire, who in many parts of
his works, and more especially in a small treatise entitled
Candide ou I'Optimisme, has exerted all the powers of his wit
and ingenuity on the subject, arriving at last at this general
conclusion, that the only possible way of reconciling the origin
of evil with the moral attributes of God, is to deny his omni-
potence.
The attempt which this very lively writer, as well as many
other modern sceptics have made to ridicule the scheme of
optimism, has been much by the confused and inac-
facilitated
curate manner in which it has been stated by some who have
proposed and defended it with the best intentions. Among
this number we must include Pope, who undoubtedly meant to
inculcate this system in most unexceptionable form, but
its

who has fallen into various unguarded expressions that appear

favourable to fatalism.

" If plagues and earthquakes break not Heaven's design,

Why, then, a Borgia or a Catiline?"*

&c. &c. &c.

With respect to these unguarded expressions, there is an anec-

dote mentioned by Dr. Warton in his Essay on the Genius and
Writings of Pope, that helps to account for their admission into
this poem, without leading us to question the sincerity of Pope's
and religion. The late
zeal for the great principles of morality
Lord Bathurst, we are told, had read the whole scheme of the
Essay on Man in the handwriting of Bolingbroke, and drawn
up in a series of propositions, which Pope was to versify and
illustrate. The same author mentions, upon what he thinks
good authority, that Bolingbroke was accustomed to ridicule
Pope, as not understanding the drift of his own principles in
their full extent ; an anecdote which by no means im-
is

probable, when we compare the passage already quoted, and

some others to the same purpose, with the author's explicit
declarations in favour of man's free agency.
* [Essay on Man, Ep. i. L56.]
 ; —

CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 133

" What makes all physical and moral ill ?

There deviates nature, and here wanders will." *

And still more directly in his Universal Prayer :

" Yet gav'st me in this dark estate,

To know the good from ill

And binding Nature fast in fate,

Left free the human will."

Ihave entered into these particulars with respect to the

Essay on Man, partly with a view of illustrating the distinc-
tion already hinted at between the which two different forms in
the system of optimism has been proposed, and partly to have
an opportunity of directing the attention of my readers to the
noblest specimen of philosophical poetry which our language
affords and which, with the exception of a very few passages,
;

contains a valuable summary of all that human reason has

been able hitherto to advance in justification of the moral
government of God. I now proceed to state the principal heads
of this argument in that form in which it appears most satis-
factory to my own mind ;
premising only, that, after all that
reason can allege on this subject, there still remain insuperable
difficulties connected with it which nothing but revelation can
explain.

All the different subjects of human complaint may be re-

duced to two classes, moral and physical evils the former com- :

prehending those which arise from the abuse of free-will the ;

latter those which result from the established laws of nature,

and which man cannot prevent by his own efforts. These two
classes of our evils, although they are often blended together in
fact, will require, in the prosecution of this argument, a
separate consideration.
I. by Butler, "that all we enjoy, and a
It is justly observed
great part of what we suffer, is put in our own power ; for
pleasure and pain are the consequences of our actions and we ;

are endued by the Author of our Nature with capacities for

foreseeing these consequences. We find by experience he does
* \ Essay on Man, Ep. iv. 111.]
 !

134 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IIL DUTIES TO GOD.

not so much as preserve our lives, exclusively of our own care

and attention, to provide ourselves with, and to make sure of
that sustenance by which he has appointed our lives shall be
preserved, and without which he has appointed they shall not
be preserved at all. And in general we foresee, that the ex-

ternal things which are the objects of our various passions, can
neither be obtained nor enjoyed without exerting ourselves in
such and such manners ; but by thus exerting ourselves we
obtain and enjoy those objects in which our natural good con-
sists. I know not that we have any one kind or degree of
enjoyment but by the means of our own actions. And by
prudence and care we maymost part pass our days in
for the
tolerable ease and quiet or, on the contrary, we may, by rash-
;

ness, ungoverned passion, wilfulness, or even by negligence,

make ourselves as miserable as ever we please."*
Now, in so far as happiness and misery depend on ourselves,
the question with respect to the permission of evil is reduced
why was Man made a Free Agent ? Or, in other words,
to this,
why does not the Author of Nature make his creatures happy
without the instrumentality of their own actions, and put it
out of their power to incur misery by vice and folly ? A ques-
tion to which (if it is not too presumptuous to subject it to our
discussion) the two following considerations seem to afford a
sufficient answer.

1st, In the first place, we may observe that perhaps the ob-
ject of the Deity in the government of the world is not merely
to communicate happiness, but to form his creatures to moral
excellence a purpose for the accomplishment of which it was
;

absolutely necessary to bestow on them a freedom of choice

between good and evil t This observation is hinted at by Butler
iu the following passage :
—
"Perhaps the Divine goodness, with
which, if I mistake not, we make very free in our speculations,
may not be a bare single disposition to produce happiness; but
a disposition to make the good, the fait hful, the honest man
happy. Perhaps an infinitely perfect mind may be phased with
seeing his creatures behave suitably to she nature which he has

inafogy, Pari I. ch. ii.

 —
CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 135

given them ; which he has placed them to

to the relations in
each other and to that which they stand in to himself, which
;

during their existence is even necessary, and which is the most

important one of all. Perhaps, I say, an infinitely perfect mind
may be pleased with the moral piety of moral agents in and for
itself, as well as upon account of its being essentially conducive

to the happiness of his creation."*

2d, A second supposition which may be suggested in answer
to the foregoing question is, that perhaps the enjoyment of high
degrees of happiness may necessarily require the previous ac-
quisition of virtuous habits ; in which case a greater sum of
happiness is produced by the present order of things than could
have been gained by any other. Nor is this merely a gratui-
tous supposition ; for we know from the fact, that the highest
enjoyments of which our nature is susceptible, arise from a
conscientious discharge of our duty, and from the possession of
those qualities which virtuous habits have a tendency to form
or to inspire.
The by vice are on this supposition
sufferings produced
instances of the goodness of God, no less than the happiness
resulting from virtue. The final cause of both is the same,
topromote the improvement of our nature as it is from the ;

same motive of love that an affectionate parent rewards the

obedience, and punishes the disobedience of his child. It is,
I think, a very fine and profound observation of Maupertuis,
" That the concern which arises from repentance and remorse, is

more allied to pleasure than to pain. It contains a cure for

that distress which it brings along with it, and a preservative
against future pains of the same kind. The more sensibly they
are felt at any particular time, we shall be in less danger of
feeling them afterwards/' 1 I would add, however, as a neces-
sary limitation of this remark, that it applies only to those

* [Ibid.] ..." L'fime, qudquefois, par le remords

1 B'fipure;
Essai de Philosophic Morale, ch&p.
II faitBerrir au bien le vice qui n'est plus,
ill.
Et cet enfant du crime est g&raut des vertus."
An idea similar to this occuts in the V imagination, Chant h.
following lines of Dc Lille : —
136 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B.III. DUTIES TO GOD.

Blighter deviations from duty which may occasionally occur in

the conduct of men habitually virtuous; for in the case of
crimes of a deeper dye, and which unfit a man to continue any
longer a member of society, remorse produces the unmixed
agonies of despair.

II. These observations justify Providence not only for the

permission of moral evil, but for the permission of many things
which are commonly complained of as physical evils. How
great is the proportion of these which are the obvious conse-
quences of our vices and prejudices and which, so far from
;

being a necessary part of the order of nature, seem intended, in

the progress of human affairs, as a gradual remedy against the
causes which produce them ? Suppose, for a moment, vice and
prejudice banished from the world, what a train of miseries
would be banished along with them The physical evils that
!

would remain would in truth almost vanish into nothing, when

compared with the magnitude of those under which the human
race groans at present. Now, whatever evils are consequences
of vice and prejudice are not a necessary part of the order of
nature. On the contrary, they lead to a correction of the abuses
from which they spring. They warn us that there is some-
thing amiss in our own conduct or in that of other men ; and
they stimulate our exertions in the search of a remedy, as those
occasional pains to which the body is liable tend to the preser-
vation of health and vigour, by the intimation they give of our
internal disorders.

Some of our other complaints with respect to the lot of hu-

manity will be found, on examination, to arise from partial
views of the constitution of man, and from a want of attention
to the circumstances which promote his improvement, or which
constitute his happiness. Such are those which sceptics have
ihii founded on a consideration o( that life of labour and
rtion, both of body and of mind, to which we are doomed by
the necessities of our nature ; — doomed as we
1
are to "eat our
bread in the sweat of our brows.*
 CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 137

When we compare the condition of man, at the moment of

his first appearance on this scene, with that of some other ani-
mals, he appears to be in many respects their inferior. His
infancy is more and of much longer duration
helpless, ; and
even after the care of the parent has reared him to maturity, he
is destitute of the essential advantages they enjoy in consequence
of the formation of their bodies, and of the variety of their
instincts. One animal
armed with the horn, another with
is

the tusk, a third with the paw most of them are covered with
;

furs, or with skins of a sufficient thickness to protect them from

the inclemencies of the seasons and all of them are directed

;

by instinct in what manner they may choose or construct the

most convenient habitation for securing themselves from danger,
and for rearing their offspring. The human infant alone enters
the world naked and unarmed exposed without a covering to
;

the fury of the elements surrounded with enemies, which far

;

surpasshim in strength or agility ; and totally ignorant in

what way he is to procure the comforts, or even the necessaries
of life. Notwithstanding, however, the unpromising aspect of
his original condition, man has no just cause to complain of the
bounty of nature ; for it is in the apparent disadvantages of his
condition, in the multiplicity of his wants, and in the urgency
of his necessities, that the foundation is laid of that superiority
which he is destined to acquire over all the other inhabitants of
the globe. " Flens animal" says Pliny, speaking of the human
infant — " Flens animal, ceteris imjperaturum."*
The necessity of certain inconveniences in our external cir-
cumstances, to rouse the energies and to improve the capacities
of the human mind, is strongly illustrated by the comparatively
low state of the intellectual powers, in such tribes of our species
as derive the necessaries and accommodations of life from the
immediate bounty of nature. No other explanation can, I think,
be given of those peculiarities in the genius of some of the
South Sea islanders, which have been remarked by some of our
late navigators, particularly by Dr. Forster in his Account of
the Inhabitants of Otaheite. " The natives of Otaheite," he

* [Nat. Hist. Lib. VII. Premium.— See Work*,- Vol. IV. pp. 281, 288.]
138 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

informs us, " and the adjacent Society

Isles, are generally of a

lively brisk temper, great lovers of mirth and laughter, and of

an open, easy, benevolent character. Their natural levity hin-
ders them from paying a long attention to any one thing. You
might as well undertake to fix mercury as to keep their mind
steady on the same subject."
Such, indeed, is the constitution of the human mind, that it

may be safely affirmed that any individual might be fixed

through life in a state of infantine imbecility, by withholding
every stimulus to his active exertions, and by gratifying every
want as fast as it arose. It is with much judgment, therefore,
that Virgil mentions the origin of the arts as a necessary con-
sequence of the changes in the natural world subsequent to the
golden age.

" Turn variae venere artes : labor omnia vicit

Improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas."*

And that he refers this introduction of indigence and labour to

a benevolent intention in Providence.

. . . .
" Pater ipse colendi

Haud facilem esse viam voluit, primusque per artem

Movit agros, curis acuens mortalia corda,
Nee torpere gravi passus sua regna veterno."f

Nor is the activity of life merely the school of wisdom and of

virtue to man ; it is the great source of his present enjoyment.
" If we attempt," says Dr. Ferguson, " to conceive such a
scene as some sceptics would require to evince the wisdom and
goodness of God, a scene in which every desire were at once
gratified without delay, difficulty or trouble, it is evident that
on such supposition the end of every active pursuit would be
anticipated exertion would be prevented, every faculty remain
;

unemployed, and mind itself would be no more than a con-

sciousness of languor under an oppression of weariness, such as
and continued inoccupation are known to produce.
satiety
"On this supposition all the active powers which distinguish
human nature would be superfluous, and only serve to disturb
* [G*rg. i. 1 16.] f [N>«L i 121 ]
 ;

CHAP. III. —OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 139

his peace, or to sour the taste of those inferior pleasures which

1
appear to be consistent with indolence and sloth."
The happiness of man when most distinguished/' continues
"

the same author, " is not proportioned to his external posses-

sions, but to the exertion and application of his faculties. It is
not proportioned to his exemption from danger, but to the
magnanimity, courage, and fortitude with which he acts. It is
not proportioned to the benefits he receives, but to those he
bestows ; and benevolence with which,
or rather to the candour
as a person obliging and obliged, he is ready to embrace his
fellow-creatures, and to acknowledge or reward their merits.
Even while he complains of his lot he is not unhappy. His
complaints are no more than the symptoms of a mind that is
engaged in some pursuit, by which his wishes are engrossed,
but of which the end is In the absence of
still unobtained.
such occupations and troubles as are prescribed by necessity, he
devises for the most part a similar course of occupations,
trouble, difficulty, and danger for himself.
" The rich and the powerful (say the vulgar) are happy,
for they are exempted from labour and care. Their pleasures
come unsought for, and without any alloy of pain. But what
are the high objects of ambition to which the wealthy and the
powerful aspire ? Are they not often situations of great
trouble and danger, in continual application to arduous affairs
of state, or in frequent exposure to the dangers of war ? What
do the idle devise to fill up the blank of real affairs ? Not a
bed of repose, nor a succession of inert and slothful enjoyments;

they devise sports that engage them in labour and toil not less
severe than that of the indigent man who works for his bread
and expose themselves to dangers not less real than those
which occur in what are thought the most hazardous pursuits
of human life.

"In the intermission and in the absence of

of business,
danger, what has the secure and the idle, under the denomina-
tion of play, devised for his own recreation ? A course of serious
1
Principles of Moral and Political Science, Vol. I. p. 178, [Part I. chap. ii.

sect. 16.]
 ;

140 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

and intense application, a state of suspense between good and

ill fortune, and loss. While he strenuously
between profit

labours to obtain the one and to avoid the other, he calls the
one a good and the other an evil ; but he has himself volun-
tarily incurred the chance of good and evil. He exults in gain,
and he laments his loss but he still freely embraces the chance
;

by which he is exposed to one or the other. The game, such

as it is, he considers as a fit pastime for himself; and though
he complains of his fortune when unsuccessful, he is never so
unreasonable as to arraign the Inventor of the game for having
admitted the possibility of ill as well as good fortune.
" The passion for play is comparatively mean and unworthy
but the illustration it brings to the condition of man is appo-
site, and will justify the terms in which we conclude, that in
the game of human life the Inventor knew well how to accom-
modate the players." 1
For the subjects of those complaints which have been now
under our consideration, a foundation is laid in the general laws
of nature, and in the constitution of the human mind. The
one is adapted to the other, as the fin of the fish is adapted to
the water, or the wing of the bird to the air ; and if the order
of things was changed in conformity to our wishes, the world
would be no longer a scene fitted for such beings as inhabit it

at present. Our complaints are founded in our ignorant con-

ceptions of our real good, which lead us to mistake what are in
truth excellencies and beauties in the scheme of Providence, for
imperfections and deformities.
The circumstances on which these complaints are founded
are in some degree common to the whole race ; and wherever
this Lb the case, I believe it will not be difficult to trace the
beneficent purposes of Providence. But what account shall we
give of the evils produced by what are commonly called the
ts of life; accidents from which no state of society, how
perfect soever, van possibly be exempted ; and which, if they
be subservient to any benevolent purposes, contribute to none
1
Brim \foralmut Political Science, Vol. T. pp. 186-187, [Wwi I. cliap.
 CHAP. III. —OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 141

within the sphere of our knowledge ? What account shall we

give of those cruel calamities which so often overwhelm indi-
viduals, and aggravate the miseries of their condition so far
beyond the common lot of humanity ? That troubles should
occur in the life of man we can see obvious reasons and in ;

fact they do occur in a sufficient degree in the life of the most

fortunate. But why those awful strokes that so often fall on
men of inoffensive or virtuous habits, and who do not seem to
stand more in need of the school of adversity than many around
them who enjoy in security all the goods of fortune ?
On such occasions we must no doubt be frequently forced to
acknowledge that the ways of Providence are unsearchable,
and we must strive to fortify our minds by the pious hope, that
the sufferings we endure at present are subservient to some
beneficial plan which we are unable to comprehend. In the
meantime, it is of the utmost consequence for us always to
recollect, that accidents of this sort are inseparable from a state
of things where the inhabitants are free agents, and where the
Deity governs by general laws. They could not be prevented
but by particular interpositions, or in other words, by suspend-
ing occasionally the general laws by which his administration
is conducted. That the evils resulting from such suspensions
would far outweigh the partial good to be gained from them is
obvious even to our limited faculties.
With respect to these general laws, their tendency will be
found in every instance favourable to orderand to happiness.
This observation, I am persuaded, will appear, upon an accu-
rate examination, to hold without any exception whatever and ;

it is one of the noblest employments of philosophy to verify

and illustrate its universality, by investigating the beneficent

purposes to which the laws of nature are subservient. Now it
is evidently from these general laws alone that the ultimate
ends of Providence can be judged of, and not from their acci-
dental collisions with the partial interests of individuals ;
colli-

sions, too, which from an abuse of their moral

so often arise
liberty. It is the great error of the vulgar (who are incapable
of comprehensive views) to attempt to read the ways of Pro-
142 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

vidence in particular events, and to judge favourably or un-

favourably of the order of the universe from its accidental
effects with respect to themselves or their friends. Perhaps,
indeed, this disposition is inseparable in some degree from the
weakness of humanity. But surely it is a weakness that we
ought to strive to correct ;and the more we do correct it, the
more pleasing our conceptions of the universe become. Acci-
dental inconveniences disappear when compared with the mag-
nitude of the advantages which it is the object of the general
laws to secure :
" Or," as one author has expressed it, " scat-

tered evils are lost in the blaze of superabundant goodness, as

the spots on the disc of the sun are lost in the splendour of his
rays."
While the laws of nature thus appear to be favourable to
order and to happiness in their general tendency, salutary
effects arise from the influence of " time and chance" on human
affairs. If the goods of fortune were distributed with an exact
regard to the merits of individuals, the selfish passions of men
would coincide in every instance with the sense of duty and ;

no occasion would be furnished for those efforts of self-denial

by which our characters are displayed, and our moral habits
confirmed.
Many of our moral qualities, too, are the result of habits
which imply the existence of physical evil. Patience, forti-
tude, humanity, all suppose a scene in which sufferings are
to be endured in our own case, or relieved in the case of others.
Thus it appears, not only that partial evils may be good
with respect to the whole system, but that their tendeacy is

beneficial, on the whole, even to that small part of it which

we see.

The argument for the goodness of God, which arises from

the foregoing considerations, will be much strengthened if it

shall appear farther, that the sum of happiness in human life

Car exceeds the sum of misery. 1 For our satisfaction on this

'
\n F>s.iy mi this BU0J6C1 l'v Matt- the last century, maintaining the pre-
partaia, published about the middle of ponderance of miaery over happineas in
 CHAP. III. —OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 143

point it will be necessary for us to recur again to the distinc-

tion formerly made between moral and physical evils, and to
consider how the balance appears to stand between them, and

human drew a good deal of atten-

life, time. " On en trouvera bien peu qui
tion, both in France and England, from voulussent recommencer leur vie teUe
the high mathematical reputation of the qu'elle a ete, qui voulussent repasser
author. His reasonings are not of suf- par tous les memes etats dans lesquels
ficient consequence to induce me to in- ils se sont trouves."
terrupt the train of these observations Our sentiments on this subject are
by a formal refutation, but I shall touch warped by our opinions, our hopes, and
in this note on the principal heads of our fears, concerning futurity. The fact
his argument. may be doubted in all its extent. Ad-
1. He lays great stress on the love mitting the fact, it would only prove,
of variety, or the perpetual desire of that, with the feelings we have at the
changing our situation. " La vie est- close of life, we could not relish those
elle autre chose qu'un souhait continuel pleasures we formerly enjoyed. A man
de changer de perception ? elle se passe after the pleasures of the day may enjoy
dans les desire ; et tout l'intervalle qui the repose of night, without giving any
en separe l'accomplissement nous le ground to conclude that the day was
voudrions aneanti." unhappy. Even supposing the mind to
In answer to this it may be remarked, retain its vigour and its sensibility, the
that our perpetual desire of change is repetition of the same pleasures would
not always a proof of a sense of misery. produce satiety ;
but our pleasures are
It often arises from a desire of 6ome not the less real while we continue to
addition to our happiness, which we enjoy them, that they cease to please by
imagine to be placed within our reach. long repetition.
Maupertuis thinks that the interval be- At an earlier period than Maupertuis,
tween the commencement of desire and Wollaston indulged views of human life

the enjoyment is painful. The contrary tinctured in some degree with the same
has been the common opinion, and is gloom, and is represented by Boling-
the just one. broke, who calls him " a whining philo-

sopher," as maintaining the same para-

" Tis the pursuit rewards the active inind,
dox with regard to the preponderance
And what in rest we seek, in toil we find."
of misery. In this instance Bolingbroke
2. Maupertuis considers our love of appears to me
have done him con-
to

amusement as a proof of our misery. siderable injustice but supposing the ;

"Tous les divertissemens des hommes charge to be well grounded, (a question

prouvent malheur de leur condition.
le which we have not time to settle at
Ce n'est que pour eviter des perceptions present.) the following remarks of the
facheuses que celui-ci joue aux echecs, noble author may be safely subscribed
que cet autre court a la chasse Tous : to.

cherchent dans des occupations serieuses " Let us be convinced, however, in

ou frivoles l'oubli d'eux-memes." opposition to atheists and divines, that
On the contrary, we never desire the general state of mankind, in the
amusement but when our situation is present scheme of Providence, is a state
comparatively easy and comfortable. not only tolerable but happy. Without
3. Maupertuis asserts that few would having Wollaston's balance, wherein he
choose to live over their lives a second weighs happiness and misery even to
 144 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B.III. DUTIES TO GOD.

the two corresponding sources of happiness or good, upon a

general survey of what passes in the world.
Before entering on the first of these heads, I think it neces-
sary to observe, that when I speak of the preponderancy of
moral good in the world, I do not mean to draw any inference
in favour of the secret springs of human conduct, as they ap-
pear in the sight of that Being who alone is acquainted with
every thought of the heart ; but only to illustrate the kind pro-
vision which is made in the constitution of man, and in the
circumstances of his condition, for the growth and culture of
those dispositions which are favourable to the happiness of indi-
viduals,and to the good order of society of those dispositions, ;
—
in short, which it is the object of wise laws to secure, and of
wise systems of education to encourage and to cherish. Nor
does the scope of my argument lead to any conclusion concern-
ing the comparative numbers of good and bad men. 1 The lives
of the best will not bear a moment's comparison with the moral
law engraven on our hearts but still it may be true, that (cor- ;

rupted as mankind are) the proportion of human life which is

spent in vice is inconsiderable when compared with the whole
of its extent. The fact, undoubtedly, if on examination it should
appear at all probable, would afford an additional illustration
of the beneficent arrangements made by our Creator for the
good order and for the happiness of this world; and might
grains and scruples, we may pronounce of men run mad by distemper, or made
that there much more good than evil
is so by some prevailing enthusiasm. . .

in it ; and prove what we pronounce . . . What our author's circumstances

even by his authority, and that of all were of any kind I am ignorant. But
those who deny it like him, if any such whatever they were Iam persuaded you
authority can be wanting. It is plain will be of my opinion, that any charit •

that every man has more good than evil able person who had offered to cut his
in actual enjoyment, or in prospect, throat, in order only to deliver him from
since every man prefers existing as he the miseries he complained of in such
is to non-existence, and since none of lamentable terms, would have been very
them, not those who suffer the worst ill received." — Bolingbroke's Philoso-
accidents in life, are willing to abandon phicol Works, Vol. IV. pp. 386, 387.
it, and to go out of the state these de- [Fragment fifty.]

claimers represent to be so miserable. See Dr. Law's Translation ofArch-

*

The proposition may be advanced thus bishop King 8 Estay on the Origin of
1

generally, btOMit there are wry few Eril, p. 420, Note A A, fourth edi-

fxamploH to the contrary, and those are tion.

 !

CHAP. III. —OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DElTY. (§ J ) 145

suggest a salutary lesson to legislators to study the intentions of

nature, as the best guides in the science of jurisprudence ; or
(to express myself in less equivocal language) to trust, in the
administration of human more than they have been com-
affairs,

monly disposed to do, to those provisions which have been made

for the comfort and for the improvement of the species by the

beneficent wisdom of God.

1. And here, in the first place, I would observe, with respect

to the balance of moral good and evil, that a fact already taken
notice of, in treating of the desire of power, [Yol. I. pp. 159,
160,] affords of itself a complete decision of the question.
[a.] How
few are the opportunities which most individuals
enjoy of rendering any extensive service to their fellow-creatures
And how completely is it in the power of the most insignificant
person to disturb the happiness of thousands ! If the benevolent
dispositions of mankind, had not a very decided pre-
therefore,
dominance over the principles which give rise to competition
and enmity, what a different aspect would society have from
what it actually presents to us or rather, how would it be
;

possible for the existence of society to be continued ?

[b.] There is another fact which strongly confirms the same
conclusion, —the constant exertion and circumspection necessary
to acquire and maintain a good name in the world ; a circum-
spection not only in avoiding any gross violation of duty, but
in avoiding even the appearance of evil. For how often does
it happen that a well-earned reputation, the fruit of a long and

virtuous life, is blasted at once by a single inconsiderate action,

— not perhaps proceeding from any very criminal motive, but
from a momentary forgetfulness of what is due to public opi-
nion ! The common complaint, therefore, we hear of the pre-
valence of vice in the world, (I mean the opinion of good and
candid men on the subject, for I speak not at present of the
follies of the splenetic and censorious,) ought rather to be con-
sidered as proofs of the high standard of excellence presented
to our view by the Author of our moral constitution, than as
proofs of any peculiar degeneracy in the manners of our con-
temporaries.
VOL. VII. k
 —

146 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

[c] It is of importance to remark bow small is the number of

individuals wbo draw tbe attention of tbe world by their crimes,
when compared with the millions who pass their days in in-
offensive obscurity. Of this it is scarcely necessary to produce
any other proof than the fact which is commonly urged on the
opposite side of the argument, —the catalogue of crimes and of
calamities which sully the history of past ages. For whence is
the interest we take in historical reading, but from the singu-
larity of the events it records, and from the contrast which its
glaring colours present to the uniformity and repose of private
life?
We may add to this observation, that even in those unhappy
periods which have furnished the most ample materials to the
historian, the storm has spent its rage in general on a compa-
ratively small number of men placed in the more conspicuous
stations of society by their birth, by their talents, by their am-
bition, or by an heroical sense of duty, while the unobserved
multitude saw it pass over their head, or only heard its noise at
a distance. Nor must we pronounce (among men called upon
to the discharge of arduous trusts) all those to have been un-
happy who are commonly styled the unfortunate. The mind
suits itself to the part it is destined to act ; and, when great
and worthy objects are before it, exults in those moments of
hazard and alarm, which, even while they threaten life and
freedom, leave us in possession of everything that constitutes
the glory and the perfection of our nature.
" In secret streams which no loud storms annoy,

Glides the smooth current of domestic joy :

The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel,

Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel,

To men remote from power but rarely known,

Leave reason, faith, and conscience all our own."*

The observations already made are, I hope, sufficient to ob-

viate some of the strongest prejudices which are commonly

* [Tho concluding lines of Gold- brother George was tortured by the

smith's Traveller; in part contributed red hot throne, crown, and sceptre ;

by Johnson. These Doble verses arc Luke being only constrained to drink a
worth correcting.— Not Luke, but his goblet of his brother's blood. Neither
 !

CHAP. III.—OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 147

entertained on this subject ; but the argument may be pushed

much farther than I have yet done. I have spoken of the
multitudes who pass through life in obscurity, as if their
characters were merely inoffensive, and entitled them only to a
negative praise ; whereas it may be reasonably doubted if it is

not among them that the highest attainments of humanity

have been made. In one half of our species, not destined by
nature to come forward like our sex on the great theatre of
human affairs, how meritorious in most instances, how exalted
in many instances, is the general tenor of their conduct ! And
when unusual combinations of circumstances have forced them
and danger, what splendid examples
into situations of difficulty
of constancy and magnanimity have they left behind them
Every person, too, who has turned his attention at all to the
manners of the lower orders, and who has studied with candour
what Gray finely calls " The short and simple annals of the
poor" must have met, among the many faults that may be
fairly charged on their education and their circumstances, with
numberless instances of integrity and of humanity which would
have added lustre to the highest stations. There is not a more
interesting circumstance mentioned in any biographical detail
than the emotion which Moliere is said to have discovered
when a common beggar, to whom he had hastily given a piece
of gold instead of a small copper coin, returned and informed
him of his mistake. " Ou la vertu va-t-elle se nicher !" An
exclamation which, as Bailly observes, " throws a stronger

light on the character of the man who uttered it than all

the anecdotes which have been collected of his wit and

pleasantry/'
by facts alone that our conclusions on this
It is not, however,
subject ought to be limited for it is one of the amiable weak-
;

nesses often attendant upon worth (if it is indeed a weakness)

to shun the observation of the world, and (as Pope alleges of

was their family name Zack or Zeck, as certain district in Transylvania ;

hence
Goldsmith's biographer and his recent the additional mistake. The event
editors assert, but Dosa. They were alluded to occurred at the end of the
indeed ZecMem ; that is, natives of a Hungarian insurrection of 1514— Ed]
 —

148 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. TIL DUTIES TO GOD.

his friend Mr. Allen) to feel " an aickward shame" when de-
tected in acts of beneficence.

. . . .
" Do good by stealth, and blush to find It fame."

It is even proper and prudent in many instances to draw a veil

over our moral sensibilities, were no other reason than it for

this, that an assumed expression of them has been so often

made subservient to the purposes of hypocrisy and affectation.

These imperfect hints, if they are allowed to be well founded,
go far to justify a very pleasing idea of Mr. Addison's, that
" there are probably greater men who lie concealed among the
species than those who come out and draw on themselves the
eyes and admiration of mankind/' " If we suppose," says he,
—
u there are spirits or angels who look into the ways of men,

how different are the notions which they entertain of us from

those which we are apt to form of one another We are !

dazzled with the splendour of titles ; the ostentation of learn-

ing; the noise of victories. They, on the contrary, see the
philosopher in the cottage, who possesses his soul in patience
and thankfulness, under the pressure of what little souls call
poverty and distress. They do not look for great men at the
head of armies, or amoug the pomp of a court but often find ;

them out in shades and solitudes, in the private walks and bye-
paths of life. The evening walk of a wise man is more illus-
trious in their sight than the march of a general at the head of
a victorious army. A contemplation of God's works ; a volun-
tary act of justice to our own detriment ; tears that are shed in
silence for the miseries of others ; a private desire or resent-
ment broken or subdued : In short, an unfeigned exercise of
humility or any other virtue, are such actions as are glorious in
and denominate men great and respectable. The
their sight,
most famous among us are often looked upon with pity, with
contempt, or with indignation, while those who are most ob-
scure among their own species are regarded with love, with
approbation, and esteem." 1
1
Descartes seems to have been also is the evident import of the line in
strongly impressed with these senti- Horace:
ments when he chose for his motto:— Nee rixit male, qui nntus moriensque fefellit.'
" Qui bear latuit, ne vbrit" Such
t>< Horace, Epist I [xvii. ]o.]
 CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 149

Id the foregoing reasonings I have not thought it necessary

to enter into any nice metaphysical disquisitions with respect
to the circumstances on which the moral merit and demerit of
actions depend, but have expressed myself agreeably to the
common language on the subject, though far from being strictly
accurate. A distinction which I shall afterwards have occasion
to illustrate between absolute and relative rectitude would
enable me to explain away a much greater proportion of the
apparent wickedness of our species. As I am unwilling, how-
ever, to anticipate at present that very important speculation, I
shall confine myself to a simple statement of the distinction,
and to a few very slight hints with respect to its application to
the question before us.
An action is said to be absolutely right when it is in every
respect suitable to the circumstances in which the agent is

placed ; or, in other words, when it is such as, with perfectly

good intentions, under the guidance of an enlightened and well
informed understanding, he would have performed.
An action is said to be relatively right when the intentions
of the agent are sincerely good, whether his conduct be suitable
to his circumstances or not.
According to these definitions, it is evident that an action
may be right in one sense and wrong in another and it is no
;

less evident, that it is the relative rectitude alone of an action

which determines the moral desert of the agent in the sight of
God and of his own conscience.
In computing, therefore, the moral demerit of mankind from
their external actions, a large allowance ought to be made for
those circumstances which may occasion deviations in their con-
duct from absolute rectitude without affecting the sincerity of
their good intentions. In particular, a large allowance ought
to be made for erroneous speculative opinions ;
— for false con-
ceptions of facts ; — for prejudices inspired by the influence of
prevailing manners ;
— and for habits contracted insensibly in
early infancy.
On each of these heads much might be offered ; but the
variety of matter which crowds upon mc renders it necessary
150 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOIX

to make a selection of such articles as are connected with the

general argument. One circumstance alone now mentioned,
false conceptions offacts, is sufficient to account for most of the
cruel enmities in the world, both between nations and indivi-
duals. How often do we see this hostile disposition existing
between two men, both of whom every impartial judge knows
to be actuated by the worthiest motives, and of whom, perhaps,
neither would be much to blame for his conduct, if his adver-
sary were such a man as he takes him to be In such instances !

we may have jast cause to regret too great an irritability of

temper, too suspicious and jealous a disposition or perhaps to ;

wish that the parties possessed more good sense, and less narrow
and prejudiced minds. But the more closely we study the cir-
cumstances of the case, we shall be the more disposed to acquit
them of that intentional injustice, and of that pure vindictive
malice which they impute to each other, and which the world
is likely, on a superficial view of the subject, to impute to both.

If mankind were universally possessed of more enlarged and

just understandings, everything else in their characters remain-
ing as at present, would be wanting to complete the order
little

and harmony of society. And hence some have been led to

imagine that vice and folly are only different names for the
same thing. This seems to have been the opinion of Plato,
according to whom " virtue may be considered as a sort of
science, and no man can see clearly and demonstratively what
is right and what is But this,
wrong, and not act accordingly."*
as will afterwards appear, was an excess of refinement and it ;

was with good reason Aristotle taught in opposition to it, " That
no conviction of the understanding is capable of getting the
better of inveterate habits, and that good morals arise not from
knowledge but from action." f
I cannot leave tins head without again remarking the great
importance, in forming our estimates of human character, of
making suitable allowances for prejudices inspired by the in-

* [Sec in Euthydcnw, in Ixichcte, in Mmone, in Protagora &c. Compare also

the spurionR Dialogue, Dc Virtut<\ an docrri poxsit.)
f [Ethica Sicom. Lib. II. Ctpp. i.-v. . Lib. III. capp. i. v. ,
ed. Wilk.]
 CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 151

flueuce of prevailing manners, and for habits contracted in early

infancy. It was justly remarked by Turgot, that bad laws are
the great source of bad morals and " hence it was," says one
:

of his biographers, u that, with an exemplary purity, and even

severity in his own manners, he was and indulgent in
so candid
his opinions of others. Whatever their conduct might be, if
it indicated no meanness, no falseness, no. insensibility, no con-

tempt for the rights of mankind, no tyranny, he was ever ready

to pardon it for he saw in it the imperfections of social insti-
;

tutions, not the faults of the individuals ; and when these weak-
nesses or vices were joined with estimable qualities, or with real
virtues, he respected the virtues as the work of the man himself,
and regarded his failings with the pity due to misfortunes."
So much with respect to the balance of moral evil and moral
good in human life.
2. [In the second place,] With respect to the balance of phy-

sical evil and physical good, the argument is still clearer, or

rather it is so clear as to preclude the possibility of any dis-
cussion, provided only it be acknowledged that the general laws
of nature are beneficent in their tendency, and that the incon-
veniences arising from them are only occasional. And surely
upon this point there can be no hesitation. Indeed, the fact
is so indisputable and so obvious, that we may venture to rest

the whole question at issue upon the impossibility of pointing

out any one general physical law that could have been more
wisely or beneficently ordered.
Among the occasional evils, too, that result from the physical
laws by which this world is governed, no inconsiderable part
may be traced to the obstacles which human institutions oppose

to the order of things recommended by nature. How chime-

rical soever the speculations of philosophers concerning the
perfection of legislation may be, they are useful at least in illus-

trating the wisdom and goodness of the Divine government.

For this purpose I have often thought that it might form both
an agreeable and instructive employment to follow out the sup-
position to its remote consequences, by considering the changes
that in process of time would take place in the physical and in
152 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

the moral condition of mankind, in consequence of the gradual

influence of such institutions, as it is easy for a philosopher to
conceive in theory. But in these disquisitions I cannot indulge
myself at present.
It is of more consequence for us toremark a most beautiful
and merciful remedy, (at least in part,) which is provided for
the occasional evils that in every state of society must be inse-
parable, in a greater or less degree, from a world like ours,
governed by general laws, and inhabited by free agents. The
remedy I allude to is the constitution of the human mind with
respect to habits. So great is their influence, that there is
hardly any situation to which the wishes of an individual may
not be reconciled nay, where he will not find himself in time
;

more comfortable than in those which are looked up to with

envy by the bulk of mankind.
In judging of the fortunes of those who are placed in situa-
tions very different from our own, due allowances are seldom
made for the effects of this principle. We conceive ourselves
to be placed in the circumstances they occupy, and judge of
their happiness or misery by what we should experience if we
were to change our condition without any change in our habits.
How dreadful, for example, in our apprehension, the lot of
those who, to gratify the luxurious wants of their superiors,
drag out a miserable existence (and for a scanty recompense)
in the bowels of the earth ! And accordingly, there is noue of
the evils connected with polished life which Mr. Burke has
painted with greater force of eloquence in his ironical Vindica-
tion of Natural Society. Even here, however, the evil (which
is unquestionably a real one, for it implies a vitiated taste with
respect to our purest and most genuine pleasures) is probably
not a little magnified by our disposition to measure it by our
own feelings. " I have been assured/' says Dr. Beattie, " by
a man of humanity and observation, the superintendent of an
English colliery, that his people would rather work in their
pits, three hundred feet under ground, than labour in a field

of hay in the finest sunshine." The same fact, or at least facts

perfectly analogous, have been often stated to myself by per-
 ;

CHAP. III. —OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 153

sons who were able to speak on the subject, from instances

which fell under their own daily notice.
It is still more pleasing to remark the versatility of human
nature, as it is exemplified among the inhabitants of the dif-
ferent regions of the globe accommodating itself everywhere
;

(and apparently with the same facility) to the physical cir-

cumstances of the climate where the lot of the individual has
been cast.
u Consider,"
says Seneca, " all those nations with whom the
tranquillity of our empire terminates Germans ; I speak of the
and of the other wandering hordes in the neighbourhood of the
Danube, oppressed with a perpetual winter, and with a lower-
ing sky ; their scanty subsistence depends
on a barren soil
their shelterfrom rain is furnished by thatch and leaves they ;

pass over their fens on the ice which gives them solidity they ;

employ as articles of food the wild beasts which they have

seized in the chase. Do these men appear to you to be un-
happy ? Habit [Consuetudo] becomes to them a second
No.
nature, and what was at first imposed by necessity is now con-
verted into a source of pleasure. The truth is, that the same
external circumstances which you picture to yourself as the
extreme of wretchedness, constitutes to numerous tribes of
your fellow-creatures the whole circle of enjoyment which
human life affords them. Hoc tibi calamitas videtur ? Tot
i

1
gentium vita est.'"
" The Laplander," says a writer in the Amainitates Aca-

demical* " is continually occupied with the care of his flock

by night and day, not only in the summer, but also in every
season of the year, and is obliged to wander up and down in
his immense woods during all the extremities of a polar winter.
The miserable herdsman must sink under such revolutions of
distress, did not nature balance them with comforts able to sup-

port him under them. During his long night, the frosty bril-
liancy of the stars, the reflection of the snow, and the aurora
borealis, with a thousand diversities of figure and radiation,
1
Dc Providentia, [cap. iv. ; Compare also Be Tntnquillitatc raj), x]
* [Of Linnaeus.]
154 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

supply the absence of the sun ; his clothes, gloves, and shoes
are furnished him by the hide of the rein-deer ; and the two
latter being stuffed with the Carex vesicaria are a sufficient
protection against the utmost extremity of the cold. With his
dog and pipe of tobacco, his only luxury, he lives as contented
and happy as the Tityrus of Virgil in the fine climate and
voluptuous shades of Naples. With such ductility does nature
yield to early habits."
I have quoted this passage, not only on account of the ex-
ample it accommodating powers of the human
furnishes of the
frame, but as an illustration of the provision which nature
often makes, in collateral physical circumstances, against the
partial inconveniences resulting from her own general arrange-
ments.
Nor is it only in infancy that the mind is susceptible of these
habits. Numberless instances might be quoted from the his-
tory of our species to show with what facility individuals, who
had been accustomed to all the luxuries of life, have reconciled
themselves to labour, hardship, and poverty, and even in some
cases to a complete privation of all the comforts connected with
civilized society.
Illustrations of these remarks may be collected by every one
within the circle of his own experience and whoever takes the
;

trouble to verify them in particular instances will find ample

ground to admire the kind palliative which is thus provided
against the evils of our present uncertain state, as well as the
most satisfactory evidence that our common estimates of the
happiness of life fall short greatly of the truth.
Having dwelt so long on the beneficent tendency of those
laws which regulate the more essential interests of mankiud, I
must content myself with barely mentioning, before leaving
this subject, the rich provision made for our enjoyment in the
pleasures of the understanding, of the imagination, and of the
heart. How delightful are the pursuits of science, how various,
how inexhaustible ! How pure, how tranquil are the pleasures
afforded by the fine arts! How enlivening the charms of
social intercourse ! How exquisite the endearments of affec-
 CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 1.) 155

tion 1 How sublime the raptures of devotion ! The accom-

modation of our sensitive powers to the scene we occupy is still
more wonderful inasmuch as over and above the care which
:

is taken for the preservation of our animal being, and the

means provided for our intellectual and moral improvement,
there appears to be a positive adaptation of our frame to the
earth we inhabit ; an adaptation our Maker could destine for
no other end but to multiply the sources of our enjoyment.
Surely he might have contrived to enlighten the earth without
displaying to our view the glories of the firmament. The day
and the night might have regularly succeeded each other with-
out our once having beheld the splendour of a morning sun, or
the glow of an evening sky. The spring might have ministered
to the fertility of summer and of autumn without scattering
over the earth a profusion of flowers and blossoms, without re-
freshing the eye with the soft verdure of the fields, or filling
the woods with joy and melody.

. . .Nor content
. "

With every food of life to nourish man,

Thou mad'st all nature beauty to His eye
And music to His ear !"

The whole frame of the universe," says Epictetus, " is fall

"

of the goodness of God and to be convinced of this important

;

truth nothing more is necessary than an attentive mind and a

grateful heart."*
It is however true, as Dr. Paley has remarked in by far the
finest That the
passage of his work on Moral Philosophy, "

contemplation of universal nature rather bewilders the mind

than affects it. There is always a bright spot in the prospect
upon which the eye rests a single example, perhaps, by which
;

each man finds himself more convinced than by all others put
together, I seem, for my own part, to see the benevolence of
the Deity more clearly in the pleasures of very young children
than in anything in the world. The pleasures of grown per-
sons may be reckoned partly of their own procuring, especially
if there has been any industry, or contrivance, or pursuit to
* [Arriani Dissert. Epict.]
156 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

come at them, or if they are founded, like music and painting,

upon any qualification of their own acquiring. But the plea-
sures of a healthy infant are so manifestly provided for by
another, and the benevolence of the provision is so unquestion-
able, that every child I see at its sport affords to a my mind
kind of sensible evidence of the finger of God, and of the
dispositionwhich directs it.
" But the example which strikes each man most strongly is

the true example for him, and hardly two minds hit upon the
—
same; which shows the abundance of such examples about
us/'*

[SECT. II.] — OF THE EVIDENCES OF THE MORAL GOVERNMENT OF

THE DEITY.
From the observations made on the foregoing subject it

sufficiently appears that the constitution of the universe, and

the general laws which regulate the course of human affairs,

are wisely and beneficently contrived for the happiness of man ;

that the sufferings which occur in human life furnish no direct

evidence of ill intention in the Author and Governor of the
world and that our own moral constitution (which we cannot
;

help conceiving to have some conformity to the moral attri-

butes of God) affords the strongest presumption that these
sufferings are all subservient to beneficial purposes. But
although benevolence and goodness be plainly an attribute of
the Deity, it is not the only character in which he manifests
himself to us in the course of his providence. There is another
character perfectly consistent with this, and perhaps in fact a
consequence of it, but which involves a different and very im-
portant consideration ; —that of the righteous Governor of the
universe, whose object is not merely to communicate happiness,
but to reward virtue and to punish vice.
From the order of the universe, and the combination of
means we everywhere see employed to accomplish particular
ends, we formerly concluded that it is the work of an intelligent
mind. Now the same mode of reasoning leads us with equal
* [PrindpUt of Moral intd Politieul Philosophy, Book II. chap, v.]
 CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 2.) 157

certainty to draw other inferences concerning the Divine Nature

and attributes, It was observed, [p. 133,] in the course of our
argument with respect to the goodness of God, " that all which
we enjoy, and a great part of what we suffer, is put in our own
—
power/' " That pleasures and pains are the consequences of
our actions and that we are endued with capacities for fore-
;

seeing these consequences/' That one course of conduct leads

to happiness and another to misery is a fact confirmed by the
general course of events and as the general course of events
;

means to those who acknowledge the existence of God the

same thing with the general plan of Divine Providence, this
fact proves that God exercises a government over the world by
means of rewards and punishments a government analogous
;

to that which a master exercises over his servants, or a civil

magistrate over his subjects. Nor is this all. From an exami-
nation of the course of human affairs it appears clearly, that,
although happiness and misery are by no means distributed
with an exact regard to the merits of individuals, yet they are
so to so great a degree as may convince us that the leading
object of Providence is to reward the good and to punish the
evil. In other words, it appears that God exercises over the
world not merely a government but a moral government ; not
so perfect indeed as our moral constitution would lead us to
desire, but sufficiently discernible in its general tendency to
every attentive and well-disposed mind.
According to some philosophers and divines the sole ultimate

end of the creation was the communication of happiness, and

the sole moral attribute of the Deity is pure benevolence. It is
may be the case nay, there are various
not impossible that this ;

considerations which make this not an improbable opinion. On

this supposition we must conclude that the Deity bestowed on
us our moral constitution as a mean towards a farther end, —
the happiness of our own nature —
and distributed rewards and
;

punishments only to secure this end more effectually. It is not

impossible that there may be beings in the creation to whom
he manifests himself alone under the character of benevolence.
But all this is mere speculative supposition. The rules of our
 —

158 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

conduct are not to be derived from possibilities but from facts ;

and all that the fact authorizes us in this instance to conclude
is, that God exercises over us a moral government by rewards
and punishments, analogous to that which the civil magistrate
1
establishes for preserving the order of society.
Upon two methods of arguing have been em-
this subject
ployed, which tend wonderfully to illustrate and confirm each
other the one founded on an examination of our own moral
:

constitution and the other on an examination of the ordinary

;

course of Providence in the administration of human affairs.

The former should, I think, precede the latter, in order to for-

tify the mind against those sceptical suspicions which the irre-
gularitiesand disorders of the present state of things are apt to
obtrude on a gloomy imagination. I have, accordingly, already
hinted in part at this argument but, for the sake of connexion,
;

it may be proper in this place to recapitulate the following

particulars.
In considering the evidences of benevolent design in the uni-
verse, it was before remarked, [p. 121,] that, as our first ideas
of the moral attributes of God are derived from our own moral
perceptions, so it is from the consideration of these that the
strongest proofs of his attributes arise.
was also observed, [Ibid.] that the distinction between right
It
and wrong is apprehended by the mind to be eternal and im-
mutable, no less than the distinction between mathematical truth
and falsehood and that, of course, to argue from our own
;

u The annexing
1
pleasure to some ac- For if civil magistrates could make the
tions, and pain to others, in our power sanction of their laws take place without
to do or to forbear, and giving notice of interposing at all after they had passed
this appointment beforehand to those them ; without a trial and the formality
whom it concerns, is the proper formal of an executioner : if they were able to
notion of government. Whether the make their laws execute themselves, or
pleasure or pain which thus follows every offender to execute them upon
upon our behaviour be owing to the himself, we should be just in the same
Author of Nature acting upon us every sense under their government then as
moment which wo feel it, or to his hav- we are now, but in a much higher
ing at once contrived and executed his degree and more perfect manner."
own part in the plan of the world, makes Butler's Analogy, [Part I.] chap. ii.

no alteration as to tho matter before us.

 ;

CHAP. III. — OF THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF THE DEITY. (§ 2.) 159

moral judgments to the administration of the Deity, cannot be

justly censured as a rash extension to the Divine Nature of
suggestions resulting from the arbitrary constitution of our
own minds.
The power we have of conceiving this distinction is one of
the most remarkable of those which raise us above the brutes ;

and the sense of obligation which it involves possesses a distin-

guished pre-eminence over all our other principles of action.
To act in conformity to our sense of rectitude is plainly the
highest excellence which our nature is capable of attaining
nor can we avoid extending the same rule of estimation to all

intelligent beings whatever.

Besides these conclusions with respect to the Divine attri-
butes, (which seem to be implied in our very perception of moral
distinctions,) there are others perfectly agreeable to them, which
continually force themselves ou the mind in the exercise of our
moral judgments, both with respect to our own conduct and
that of other men. The reverence which we feel due to the
admonitions of conscience, — the sense of merit and demerit
which accompanies our good and bad actions, the warm inter- —
est we take in the fortunes of the virtuous, the indignation we —
feel at the occasional triumphs of successful villany, — all imply
a secret conviction of the moral administration of the universe.
An examination, however, of the ordinary course of human
affairs adds greatly to the force of these considerations,1 and

1 " From the natural course of things, restrains crimes may he considered as a
vicious actions are to a great degree part of the order of Providence, though
actually punished as mischievous to acting by the instrumentality of man.
society. And beside the penalties ac- Nor is it a valid objection to this reason-
tually inflicted in such cases, the fears ing that good actions, and such as are
and apprehensions of it, in case of adis- really beneficial to the public, are some-
covery, operate frequently as no incon- times punished, as in the case of unjust
siderable punishment on those who persecution ; and that vicious actions
escape the vengeance of human laws. are frequently rewarded ;
for, in the first

That those vices which are destructive place, when this occurs it is matter of
of society should be punished by the accident, and does not arise necessarily
magistrate, arises from the very exist- from the established order of things, as
ence of society. And as the political the penalties annexed to certain vices
union is the necessary result of the na- result necessarily from the constitution
ture of man, the penalties by which it of society ; and, secondly, when good
160 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

furnishes a proof from the fact, that, notwithstanding the seem-

ingly promiscuous distribution of happiness and misery in this
life, and the punishment of vice are the
the reward of virtue
great objects of all the general laws by which the world is go-
verned. The disorders in the meantime which, in such a world
as ours, cannot fail to arise in particular instances, when they
are compared with our natural sense of good and of ill desert,
afford a presumption, that in a future state the moral govern-
ment which we see begun here will be carried into complete
execution.

actions are punished, and bad ones re- by influencing mankind so to act as to
warded, it is owing to some accidental favour and reward virtue and punish
misconception of their tendency, the vice ; this is not the same, but an addi-
former being supposed erroneously to be tional proof of his moral government, for
hurtful, and the latter beneficial to the it is an instance of it. The first is a
public. The general proposition, there- proof that he will finally favour and sup-
fore, holds, without anything that can port virtue effectually. The second is

be opposed to it on the other hand, that an example of his favouring and sup-
the punishment of certain vices results porting it at present in some degree.
necessarily from the circumstances in " Besides the actual effects of virtue

which Providence has placed mankind. and vice in this life, there is something
" In the natural course of things, very remarkable in their necessary ten-
virtue as such is actually rewarded, and dencies ; and in 60 far as these tenden-
vice as such punished. Besides the cies lie open to our observation, they
agreeable and disagreeable effects of afford a proof from the fact of the moral
virtue vice on men's own minds,
and government under which we are placed.
the course of the world turns in some The actual consequences of virtue and
measure upon the approbation and dis- of vice are, indeed, very conspicuous;
approbation of them as such in others. but they bear little proportion to what
The sense of well and ill doing, the pre- they would produce if their tendencies
sages of conscience, the love of good were not restrained by accidental cir-
characters and dislike of bad ones, hon- cumstances. Good and bad men, for
our, shame, resentment, gratitude, — all example, would be much more rewarded
these, considered in themselves and in and punished as such, were it not that
their effects, afford manifest real in- justice is often artificially eluded, that
stances of virtue as such naturally characters are not known, and many
favoured, and of vice as such discoun- who would thus favour virtue and dis-
tenanced, more or less, in the daily courage vice are hindered from doing so
course of human life. That God has from accidental causes.''
given us a moral constitution may be The foregoing note is little more
urged most justly as a proof of our being than an abridgment of some observa-
under his moral government. But that tions of Butler's in his chapter "On
he has placed us in a condition which the Moral Government of God." — See
gives this nature Beope to operate, and Analogy, p. 73, third edition. [Parti,
in which it does unavoidably operate, chap, iii.]
 CHAPTER IV.

OF A FUTURE STATE.

The consideration of the Divine attributes naturally leads

our thoughts to the future prospects of man, and to the sequel
of that plan of moral government which we see plainly begun
here, and which our own moral constitution, joined to our con-
clusions concerning the perfections God, afford us the
of
strongest intimations will be more completely unfolded in some
subsequent stage of our being. The doctrine indeed of a future
state seems to be in a great measure implied in every system of
religious belief; for why were we rendered capable of elevating
our thoughts to the Deity, if all our hopes are to terminate
here ? Or why were we furnished with powers which range
through the infinity of space and time, if our lot is to be the
same with that of the beasts which perish ? But although the
doctrine of a future state be implied in every scheme of religion,
the truths of religion are not necessarily implied in the doctrine
of a future state. Even absolute Atheism does not destroy all
the arguments for the Immortality of the soul. Whether it be
owing to an overruling intelligence or not, it is a fact which no
man can deny, that there are general laws which regulate the
course of human affairs, and that even in this world we see
manifest indications of a connexion between Virtue and Happi-
ness. Why may not necessity continue that existence it at
first gave birth to ; and why may not the connexion between
virtue and happiness subsist for ever ?
VOL. VII. l
162 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

SECT. I. OF THE ARGUMENT FOR A FUTURE STATE DERIVED

FROM THE NATURE OF MIND.

In collecting the various presumptions which the light of

nature affords for a future state, too much stress has commonlj
been laid on the Soul's Immateriality. 1
After having proved,
or attempted to prove, that it has no quality in common with
Matter ; in particular, that it is not extended or divisible, the
advocates for this opinion have concluded, with all the confi-
dence of demonstration, that what is not compounded nor made
up of parts cannot be dissolved, and, therefore, that the human
soul is essentially and necessarily immortal. " Et cum simplex
natura animi esset, neque haberet in se quidquam admistum
dispar sui, atque dissimile, non posse eum dividi quod si non ;

2
possit, non posse interire."
But this argument, I am afraid, supposing it were logical,
proves too much ; for it concludes as strongly against the possi-
bility of the soul's being created as dissolved ; and, accordingly,
we find that almost all the ancient philosophers who believed
in a future state maintained also the doctrine of the soul's pre-
existence. Nay, some of them seem to have considered the
latter point as still better established than the former. In the
Phcedon of Plato, in which Socrates is introduced as stating to
his friends immediately before his execution, the proofs of a
future state, Cebes, who is one of the speakers in the dialogue,
admits that he has been successful in establishing the doctrine
of the soul's pre-existence, but insists on farther proofs of the
possibility of its surviving the body.
When we consider, however, with attention the argument

1
On thia point I quite agree with state of sensibility in another world,
Locke. " All the groat ends of morality and make us capable there to receive
and religion are well enough secured the retribution he has designed to men,
without philosophical proof of the soul's according to their doings in this life,"
imm/itfruilitif ; sine*? it is evident, that &c. &c. See the Chapter of his Essay
11. who made us at the beginning to on the Extent of Human Knowledge.
subsist here, sensible intelligent beings, —Locke's Work*, Vol. II. p. 332.
and lor several wars continued us in [Essay, Bool IV. chap, iii. § 6.]
such a state, can restore us to the like ioero, /'< S<Jt<rtut<\ c. xxi.
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 163

from the Soul's Immateriality in favour of its Immortality, it

appears to be by no means conclusive ; for although we have

the strongest evidence (as I shall afterwards shew) that there
is a thinking and sentient principle within us essentially dis-
tinct from matter, yet we have no direct evidence from the
fact, of the possibility of this principle exercising its various
faculties and powers in a separate state from the body. On
the contrary, the union between the two, while it subsists, is
evidently of the most intimate nature. We have reason to
believe that, in the exercise of all the Intellectual powers, the
soul acts somehow or other on the body when ; for we find that
we have long been exerting any particular faculty, we are
conscious of fatigue, and are relieved by giving the mind some
other species of employment. We know, too, from what
happens in consequence of intoxication, madness, and other
diseases, that a certain condition of the body is necessary to
the intellectual operations : And the same thing appears from
the gradual decay of the faculties as we approach to old age.
This last fact is meet with some old
indeed not universal. We
men who retain their faculties unimpaired to the last and ;

others cut off in the vigour of life, who have displayed the
usual force of their understandings under the pressure of some
diseasewhich was in a few moments to terminate their exist-
ence. Bnt surely the more common fact is, that the body and
mind seem to decay together and the few exceptions that
;

occur only prove that there are some diseases fatal to life which
do not injure those parts of the body with which the intellectual
operations are more immediately connected.
would not be understood by these observations to give the
I
smallest countenance to the scheme of Materialism a scheme ;

which is not only dangerous, but which I have shown, in the

Philosophy of the Human Mind, to be absurd and incompre-
hensible.* Indeed it is self-evident, that, as our notions of body
and mind are merely relative, as we know the one only by its
sensible qualities, and the other by the operations of which
we are conscious ; to say of mind that it is not material, is to

* [Vol. I. Introduction, Part i. ; Works, Vol. II. pp. 47, 48]

164 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

affirm a proposition, the truth of which is involved in the

only conceptions of matter and mind that we are capable of
forming.
The doubts that have been suggested with respect to the
essential distinction between Matter and Mind derive all their
plausibility from the habits of inattention we acquire in early
infancy to our mental operations. It was plainly the intention

of nature that our thoughts should be habitually directed to

things external and accordingly the bulk of mankind are not
;

only disposed to overlook the mental phenomena, but are in-

capable of that degree of reflection which is necessary for their
examination. Hence it is, that, when we begin to study our
own internal constitution, we find the facts it presents to us so
very intimately associated in our conceptions with the qualities
of matter, that it is impossible for us to draw distinctly and
steadily the line between them ; and that when mind and
matter are concerned in the same event, mind is either entirely
overlooked, or is regarded only as an accessory to matter, and as
dependent upon it for its existence. The tendency which all

men have to refer the sensation of colour to the objects by

which it is excited, may serve to illustrate the manner in which
the qualities of mind and body come to be blended in our
apprehensions. We may add, as a farther illustration of the
same thing, the reference which, in the case of physical events, we
naturally make to matter, of Power, or Force, or Energy, which
is an attribute of mind, and can exist in mind only. The same
observation might be exemplified in numberless other instances,
of which I shall at present mention only one, — the confusion
between the terms Sensation and Perception which has pro-
duced the ideal theory. In general, the bulk of mankind are so
engrossed with external objects, that they overlook entirely
their own mental operations, and even lose the capacity of
attending to them ; insomuch that the mind is compared by
Locke to the eye, which sees every object around us, but cannot
see itself. This tendency of our nature is to be counteracted only
by liabit8 of reflection of which very few men are capable, and
which, unless we are led, by natural curiosity or by accident, to
 CHAP. IV. OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 165

cultivate them in very early youth, are, I believe, perfectly un-

attainable. Such habits are, however, absolutely necessary to
enable us to make any solid progress in the Philosophy of
Mind, and to prevent us from being misled by the analogy of
Matter in explaining the intellectual phenomena. In propor-
tion, too, as they become familiar to us, they lead us insensibly,

without any long process of reasoning, to draw the line between

the operations of Mind and the qualities of Matter and to ;

perceive, that of all the truths we know the existence of mind

is the most certain. Even the system of Berkeley, concerning
the non-existence of matter, is far more conceivable than that
matter is the only substance existing in the universe.
For the errors which the vulgar are apt to commit on these
subjects, the habits of inattention already mentioned afford
perhaps more than a sufficient apology. But it is painful to
remark in philosophers of eminence, who seem to have, in a
considerable degree, surmounted these habits, a disposition to
conform themselves to the grossest apprehensions of the multi-
tude, rather than give any countenance to the sublime and
elevating doctrine of the immateriality of the soul. Thus Mr.
Hume, who has so accurately stated in the case of the secondary
qualities of matter, the absurdity of referring to body what
can only exist in a sentient being, has yet not scrupled to speak
of " that little agitation of the brain which we call thought."

Surely, if it be absurd to speak of Matter being cold or hot,

blue or green, it is an absurdity to speak of
at least as great
Matter, thinking, remembering, or reasoning"*
If these remarks be well founded, the prejudices which give
support to the scheme of Materialism are not likely to be cured
by any metaphysical reasonings, how clear or conclusive soever,
so long as the judgment continues to be warped by such ob-
stinate associations as have just been mentioned. A habit of
reflecting on the laws of thought, as they are to be collected
from our own consciousness, together with a habit of resisting
those illusions of the fancy which lead superficial inquirers to
substitute analogies for facts, will gradually enable us to make
* [See Dissertation; }Vur/:s, Vol. 1. p. 137.
 — ;

1 66 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

the phenomena of Matter and those of Mind distinct objects of

attention, and as soon as this happens, the absurdity of Mate-
rialism must appear intuitively obvious.
It affords, I think, some confirmation of these reasonings,
that all the attempts which have been made to explain any of
the operations of mind by the analogy of material phenomena,
have involved their authors in absurdities and contradictions
and that it is only since the time when Descartes drew the line
distinctly between these two objects of our knowledge 1 that
any considerable progress in the Philosophy of Mind has been
made. On the other hand, every step which has been gained
in this study has undermined some of the prejudices from
which Materialism derives its support. The old theory, for
example, with respect to perception, was extremely favourable
to the supposition of the soul's materiality. Philosophers ap-
prehended that the qualities of external objects were perceived
by means of images of these qualities, transmitted from the
object to the mind through the medium of the senses, and that
there was no idea in the understanding which was not origi-
nally conveyed to it by this channel. Thus the mind was
conceived to receive all its ideas from without, and to be
originally nothing more than a repository for receiving the
images or species of surrounding objects ; or, as the language
of these philosophers seems at other times rather to imply, a
tablet fitted to receive passively those impressions or stamps
which are made on by the various qualities of matter. These
it

images, or these impressions, furnished the whole materials of

its knowledge, which it might analyze or compound, but beyond

which it could create nothing.

When, however, we lay aside theory, and attend to the fact,

1 " Ia-s Meditations Me'taphijsitptes qu'il est h premier oh In dis'inetiou de

de Descartes parurent en 1641. C'etoit Ve*prit ei de la maliere <oit par/ait e-
d« tons ses onvra^rs, oelnj qu'il esti- merit dcreloppc'e : Car avaiit Descartes
umit la plus. (V qui caractenM surtout on n'avoit enoore MOO approfondi les

image, cVst ipfil connent fa- n pvenraa philoeophiques de la ipiritnelite'

meDM demonstration do Dion, demon- de lVuno." EJoge de Descartes, pojp Iff.
titration, si rt'pi'trc depuis, adoptee par Thomas. Not-
les uns el rejetee pnr les entree; et
 ;

CHAP, IV. OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 167

it appears, with unquestionable evidence, that our perception of

external objects is obtained by the intervention of sensations,
towhich the qualities of these objects bear no more resemblance
than the words of a language do to the objects they denote
and that the only difference which we are able to discover be-
tween the two cases is, that in the one the connexion between
the sign and the thing signified is established by nature, and
in the other by custom alone. By the constitution of our
nature indeed, we are disposed in most instances to overlook
the sign, and to attend to the thing signified in consequence ;

of which the qualities of matter engross our attention much

more, and are much more familiar to us than the sensations of
which we are conscious, and by the intervention of which our
perceptions of these qualities are obtained. It is easy, how-
ever, to conceive that the mind might have been so formed as
to possess all the sensations which belong to it in its present
state, without having had any perception of the qualities of

external objects. And it may be even affirmed that it might

have arrived at the exercise of most of its intellectual faculties,
without having had any notion of the existence of a material
world.
For the illustration of this proposition I must refer to the
Philosophy of the Human Mind and whoever considers ,
#1
it

with attention, and reflects on the consequences to which it

leads, will (if I am not much deceived) be fully sensible of the

absurdity which the scheme of Materialism involves.
It is not, however, on an examination of the human intellect

alone that I would rest the decision of this question. Besides

the evidences for the existence of mind which our own con-
sciousness affords, and those which are exhibited by other men
and by the lower animals, there are many presented to us by
every part of the material world. We are so constituted that
every change we see in it suggests to us the notion of an Effi-
cient Cause ; and every combination of means conspiring to an
end suggests to us the notion of Intelligence. And accordingly
the various changes which take place in nature, and the order
1
Vol. I. chap. i. sect. 4.— [ Works, Vol. II. pp. 113-119. See also pp. 47, 48. |
 —

168 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

and beauty of the universe, have in every age been regarded as

the effects of power and wisdom that is, of the operation of ;

mind. In the material world, therefore, as well as in the case

of animated nature, we are led to conceive body as a passive
subject, and mind as the moving and governing agent. And
it deserves attention, that in the former class of phenomena
mind appears to move and arrange the parts of matter without
being united with it, as in the case of animal life.

There are various circumstances which render it highly pro-

bable that the union between soul and body which takes place
in our present state, so farfrom being essential to the exercise
of our powers and faculties, was intended to limit the sphere of
our information and to prevent us from acquiring, in this
;

early stage of our being, too clear a view of the constitution

and government of the universe. Indeed, when we reflect on
the difference between the operations of Mind and the qualities
of Matter, it appears much more wonderful that they should
be so intimately united as we find them actually to be, than to
suppose that the former may exist in a conscious and intelligent
1
state when separated from the latter.
It may perhaps contribute somewhat to reconcile the imagi-
nation to this doctrine, when we consider that the substance of
which the body is composed is perpetually changing, so that
during the life of a man all the particles which go to the com-
bination must have frequently undergone a complete renova-
tion ; and yet during all this time we retain a distinct con-
sciousness of our personal identity. This fact is surely not a
little favourable to the supposition of Mind being a principle
from Matter, and capable of existing when
essentially distinct
connexion with the body is dissolved. I do not say that it

furnishes any logical argument on the subject distinct from

that already stated ; but in the present inquiry arguments are
iry than illustrations to aid oar apprehensions, in

1
'" Mibi quidom, naturam animi in- quam qualis, cum exierit et in liberum
tiicnti, iiiultn difficilior occoxrit cogitatio cnlam quasi domnm suam, venerit."
mnltoquc obtonrior, qualis animus in Thsc. Dup. Lib. I. c. xxii.
corpora sit, tamquam aliense domui,
 —

CHAP. IV. OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 1G9

combating those associations which in our early years lead us

so to blend the qualities of body and mind, that we find it

difficult ever after to make them separate objects of attention.

An John Smith of Cambridge) has
old English writer (Mr.
placed the remark now hinted at in some new and striking
points of view.
" If our souls were nothing else than a complex of fluid

atoms, how should we be continually roving and sliding from

ourselves, and soon forget what we once were ? The new matter
that would come in to fill up that vacuity which the old had
made by its departure, would never know what the old were,
nor what that should be that would succeed that. That new
pilgrim and stranger-like soul would always be ignorant of
what the other before it knew, and we should be wholly some
other bulk of being than we were before, as Plotinus hath
excellently observed, (Enn. IV. 1. vii. c. 5.) It was a famous
speech of wise Heraclitus.* A\s e? rov avrov ttotcl/jlov ovk av
eiifialris, — A man cannot enter twice into
c
the same river ;' by
which he was wont symbolically to express the constant flux of
matter, which is the most unstable thing that may be. And if
Epicurus in his Philosophy could free this heap of refined atoms,
which it makes the soul to be, from this inconstant and flitting
nature, and teach us how it could be /jlovi/jlov tl, '
some stable
and immutable thing,' always resting entire while it is in the
body though we should thank him for such a goodly conceit
;

as this is, yet we would make no doubt but it might as well be

able to preserve itself from dissolution and dissipation out of
this gross body as in it seeing it is no more secured from the
;

constant impulses of that more gross matter which is restlessly

moving up and down in the body than it is out of it and yet ;

for all that, we should take the leave to ask Tully's question
with his sober disdain, '
Quid, obsecro te, terrane tibi, aut hoc
nebuloso et caliginoso coeno [ccelo~\ aut sata, aut concreta videtur
tanta vis Memorial?'^ Such a jewel as this is too precious to
be found in a dunghill. Mere matter could never thus stretch
forth its feeble force and spread itself over all its own former
* [See Plato's Crcdylut, H»] t [Twcxd. Disp. Lib. I. c. xxv.J
 — —— —

170 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

pre-existence8. We may as well suppose this dull and heavy

earth we tread upon to know how long it hath dwelt in this part
of the universe that now it doth, and what variety of creatures
have in all past ages sprung forth from and all those occur-
it,

rences and events which have all this time happened upon it." 1

1
Select Discourses, by John Smith of prefixed to the edition of Armstrong's
Cambridge, pp. 83, 84. Poems, published by J. Aikin, M.D.
I have, in another work, made some If this observation had been confined
remarks on the Argument against the to the passage of Armstrong here re-

Immateriality of the Soul which Priest- ferred to, I should not have been dis-
ley and others have founded on the posed to object to it, as I think it

common apprehensions of mankind, as completely justified by. some expressions

manifested in their modes of speaking which occur in the next paragraph,
on the subject. Spiritus, rut/pa., Ghost, particularly by what is there said of
&c. Philosophical Essays, [Part I.] the various functions which are per-
Essay v. ch. ii. [Works, Vol. V. pp formed
163-166.] " By subtle fluids pour'd through subtle tubes;"
The same metaphorical language, with
Of some of which fluids we are after-
respect to the nature of mind, occurs in
wards told that they
one of the most classical didactic poems
"Are lost in thinking, and dissolve in air."
in our language.
It is the parenthetical clause alone
**
There is, they aay, (and I believe there is,) (distinguished by italics) which has led
A spark within us of th' immortal^Jre,
me to point out to my readers the fore-
That animates and moulds the grosser frame,
going criticism of Dr. Aikin's, and in
And when the body sinks escapes to Heaven,
Its native seat, and mixes with the gods.
this clause I must be allowed to say,
Meanwhile this heavenly particle pervades that the greatest injustice is inad-
The mortal elements," &c. &c vertently done to many of our best phi-
[Armstrong's] Art of Preserving
losophers, both ancient and modern.
Health, [Book iv. 11.]
To this note I shall only add the
following query :

I have quoted these lines not on ac-

count of their own merit, but as an
Wh nee has arisen that disposition

what appears me to bo
which materialists of every description
introduction to to

a very exceptionable remark on them,

have shown to subtilize, as far as was
possible for the imagination to do so,
by a writer for whose taste and critical
the atoms which they conceived to pro-
judgment I entertain a high respect.
"The theory," he observes, "of the duce by their organization the pheno-
union of a spiritual principle with tin-
mena of thought?
•'
Quintessence d'atome. extniit do la luniiere !"*
gross corporeal substance, is that which
Armstrong Adopts as the basis of his Might not a plausible argument
reasonings. Ho evidently confounds, against their (minion be deduced from
however, (as nil writtrs on this si/sti in this acknowledged fatty bv employing a
do,) matter of great subtlety with what mode of reasoning somewhat analogous
is not matter — or Spirit to the method <>/' exhaustions among
ingenious ami elegant Esssj the ( treek geometricians?

• [La POO aino]

 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 171

What, then, shall we say of the effects of disease and old

age on the mind That they are convincing proofs of its inti-
?

mate union with the body, and of the dependence of our intel-
lectual operations at present on our corporeal organs, cannot
be disputed. But they surely do not amount to a proof that
the soul is necessarily extinguished when the body is dissolved.
" Suppose a person/' says Cicero, " to have been educated from

his infancy in a chamber, where he enjoyed no opportunity of

seeing external objects, but through a small chink in the
window shutter, would he not be apt to consider this chink as
essential to his vision, and would it not be difficult to persuade
him that his prospects would be enlarged by demolishing the
walls of his prison ?" Admitting that this analogy is founded
merely on fancy, yet, if it be granted that there is no absurdity
in the supposition, it furnishes a sufficient answer to all the
reasonings which have been stated against the possibility of the
soul's separate existence from the consideration of its present
union with the body.
In order to be completely sensible of the force of this obser-
vation, it is necessary to attend to the distinction between the
Mind and Organs of sense or, in other words, between the
its ;

percipient and his organs of perception a distinction for the

;

illustration of which I shall again avail myself of the language

of Cicero. " Nos enim ne nunc quidem oculis cernimus ea

quae videmus ; neque enim est ullus sensus in corpore, sed, ut

non solum physici docent, verum etiatn medici, qui ista aperta
et patefacta viderunt, vice quasi quaedam sunt ad oculos, ad
aures, ad nares a sede animi perforata?. Itaque saepe aut cogi-
tatione aut aliqua vi morbi impediti, apertis atque integris et
oculis, et auribus, nee videmus, nee audimus : ut facile intelligi
possit animum et videre et audire, non eas partes, quae quasi
fenestras sunt animi : quibus tanien sentire nihil queat mens,
nisi id agat et adsit. Quid, quod eadem mente res dissimilli-
inas compreheudimus, ut colorem, saporem, calorem, odorem,
sonum ? quae numquam
quinque nuntiis animus cognosceret,
nisi ad eum omnia referrentur, et is omnium judex solus esset.
Atque ea profecto turn multo puriora et dilucidiora cernentur,
 — — : :

172 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. B. 111. DUTIES TO GOD.

cum, quo natura fert, liber animus pervenerit. Nam nunc

quidem, quamquani foramina ilia, qua3 patent ad animum a
corpore, callidissimo artificio natura fabricata est, tamen ter-
renis concretisque corporibus sunt intersepta quodammodo
cum autem nihil erit praeter animum, nulla res objecta impediet,
1
quo minus percipiat, quale quidque sit."

In support of the foregoing conclusions many strong argu-

ments might be derived from an accurate examination and
analysis of our ideas of matter and its qualities but as such ;

speculations would necessarily engage me in a discussion of

some principles, about which philosophers are not as yet per-
fectly agreed, I shall content myself with barely hinting at my
ideas on this subject, without aiming at a complete illustration
of the argument.
It is well known to those who are at all acquainted with the
present state of natural philosophy, that a new theory with
respect to matter was proposed not many years ago by the late
celebrated Father Boscovich. According to this theory we are
taught that the quality of impenetrability, which commonly
enters into our idea of matter, does not belong to it, and that
the qualities of hardness and softness have always a reference
to the force we employ in compressing bodies. As what is hard
to an infant may be soft to a man, so what is hard when com-
pared with human strength may be soft when compared with

1
Tuscul. Disputat. Lib. I. c. xx. " Then these defects in sense's organs be,

The same idea which runs through Not in the soul, nor in her working might .

She cannot lose her perfect power to see.

this passage has been adopted and
Though mists and clouds do choke her win-
placed in some new lights by an old dow-light.
English poet, whose works are less
" These imperfections, then, we must impute
known than they deserve to be, Sir
Not to the agent, but the instrument
John Davis, Attorney-General in Ire- We must not blame Apollo but his lute,
land, under the reign of Queen Elisa- If false accords from her fidse strings be sent.

beth. [On the Immortality of the Soul, " As a good harper stricken far in years,
Sect, xxxii. ; following Plato, Aristotle, Into whoso cunning hands the gout doth fall.

and the Psoudo-Epicharmus. — lui \

All his old .Ti'tcluMs in his brain he bears,
But on his harp plays ill, or not at all.
« * • • •
" So though the clouds eclipse the sun's fair
light. " Hut if Apollo takes his gout away,
Yet from his face they do not take one beam . That he his nimble fingers may apply.
So liare our eye* their perfect power of sight Apollo's self will enry at his play.
Kren when they look into a troubled st renin And all the world applaud his minstrelsy."
 —

CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 173

that of more powerful beings. When we have exerted all our

force in attempting to compress a body, and find that we can-
not diminish its volume any farther, the resistance it opposes
to our efforts is not an absolute incompressibility, but an in--
compressibility relative to our strength. With a greater force
itmight be reduced within a volume still smaller, and with a
force sufficiently great its volume might be made to vanish
into nothing. Matter, therefore, it is concluded, is nothing but
a power of resistance, and there is no such thing in nature as
atoms perfectly hard and absolutely impenetrable.
With respect to this theory of Boscovich's I shall not venture
to give any decided opinion. That it is attended with some
difficulties must, I think, be granted by its most zealous advo-
cates ; but, on the other hand, it cannot be denied that he has
been successful in establishing three propositions: 1st, That
the supposition of impenetrable particles is liable to strong, if

not to insurmountable objections. That there are no

2c?/?/,

facts which afford any direct evidence of it. And, 3c%, That
there are some striking facts which favour the opposite hypo-
thesis. In proof of the last proposition it is sufficient to appeal
to those experiments which have led modern philosophers to

conclude, that all bodies exert a repulsive power, extending to

a certain distance from their surfaces, and that the common
effects which are attributed to contact and collision are pro-

duced by this repulsion. We know that when a convex lens is

laid on a plane glass, a very great compressive power may be

.employed without producing actual contact ; and we also know,
from some electrical phenomena, that the links of a metallic
chain are not in contact with each other, even when the chain
is The same phenomena,
stretched with very heavy weights.
therefore, may be produced by repulsion which we commonly
ascribe to contact and if so, why not attribute to the same
;

cause all effects of the same nature ? Accordingly, Boscovich

denies the existence of impenetrable particles, and supposes
matter to be composed of unextended elements (mere mathe-
matical points) exerting powers of repulsion, so as to produce
the same appearances which would take place on the common
 ;

1 74 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

supposition. On this doctrine with' respect to matter, or at

least on a doctrine extremely similar to it, Dr. Priestley has

founded his reasonings against the immateriality of the soul
and it is from these premises he has attempted to show that
the extinction of the sentient and thinking principle must ne-
cessarily result from the dissolution of the body.
But it appears to me, that, if Boscovich's theory be admitted,
instead of establishing Materialism, it destroys completely the
foundation of that system. It is evident that, according to
Boscovich's idea, all that we know of the impenetrability of
matter amounts to this, that there exist certain repulsive forces
which counteract those compressing forces we ourselves exert.
Now, if this is the case, we must ascribe these forces to some-
thing analogous to that of which we are conscious in ourselves.
In other words, we must ascribe them to the agency of mind ;
for active force is an attribute of mind just as much as sensa-
tion or thought. Matter, therefore, is not a thing which has a
separate and independent existence, but an effect which is con-
tinued by the constant agency of Divine Power.
1 formerly endeavoured to show that, in the phenomena of
gravitation, and in general in the changes which take place in
the state of the material universe, the incessant agency of the
Deity, or of some subordinate mind, is indispensably necessary
to account for the effects.* And this seems now to be the opi-
nion of all the best philosophers. But, according to Boscovich's
theory, the constant agency of the Deity is carried much far-
ther than any philosopher has hitherto apprehended ; for it

appears to be necessary to account for even the solidity or im-

penetrability of matter ; that quality which is generally consi-
dered as constituting the very essence of matter, or at least to
be inseparable from the idea of it The ancient philosophers,
even those of them who were theists, believed matter to be
eternal as well as mind. Modern theists in general suppose
matter have been originally created by the IVity. but to have
to

derived from him a separate and independent existence. But,

* [Supra, Vol I ]>p ,fiO, ")l . Vol II. ftbo, PkBotOphy of the Human Mind,
p 2ft, «•-/ . infra, Noto A, Fifth Thoorv : Vol. II chap iv. sect. I. p. 231, seq.]
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ I.) 175

according to Boscovich's theory, the existence of matter is a

constant effect of Divine Power
power were a mo-
; and, if this

ment withheld, the whole material universe would vanish into

nothing. So far, therefore, from leading to Materialism, (in the
common sense of that word,) Boscovich's theory, if accurately
conceived and followed out to its necessary consequences, repre-
sents mind as the only independent existence we know, and
matter as a mere effect dependent on its operation.
What, then, shall we suppose happens at death ? Our con-
nexion with that system of appearances called the material
world plainly ceases ; but surely no presumption arises from
this against the permanent existence of our minds. On the
contrary, the presumption is strongly in favour of their perma-
nent existence, and that death only lifts up the veilwhich con-
ceals from our mortal eyes the invisible world. Death does not
extinguish mind, and leave the material world existing as
before. On the contrary, death annihilates the material uni-
verse to our senses, and prepares our minds for some new and
unknown state of being. 1
The philosophers who believed matter
to be uncreated and eternal, might be pardoned for sometimes
running into the absurdity of supposing that it is the only ex-
istence in nature,and that the phenomena of which we are con-
scious result from bodily organization. But first to maintain
that matter is merely a system of forces, and then to conclude
that there is no such thing as mind, is such a tissue of incon-
sistency and contradiction, or rather such a pitiful juggle upon
words, as is scarcely to be paralleled in the history of philosophy.
have already declined giving any opinion for or against
I
Boscovich's theory, and shall only remark at present, as a cir-
cumstance that furnishes a most pleasing field of speculation
to the human mind, that, on questions of so interesting a nature
as those which relate to the existence of a Deity and a future

1
This, as far as T am able to conjee- philosopher, hut often so dark and even
ture from my recollection of his conver- incomprehensible as a metaphysician,
sation, was the opinion of my late It is well known that Dr. Hutton had
amiable and excellent friend, Dr. James adopted a theory with respect to matter
Hutton, — so ingenious and original in approaching very nearly to those of Hos-
his writings as a geologist and natural covich and Priestley.
 ;

176 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

state, the kind Author of our being has not left our belief to
depend on the precarious issue of philosophical controversies
for whatever theory we adopt, whether right or wrong, we are
unavoidably led to the same conclusions and frequently those ;

very hypotheses that have been advanced to unhinge the com-

mon opinions of mankind, have furnished new arguments in
support of the principles they were intended to subvert.
After what has been already said, it is scarcely necessary for
me to add, that the scope of the foregoing observations is to
establish the probability, not only of the future existence of the
soul, but of its conscious identity and individuality. Indeed,
unless this be granted, the question about the distinct natures of
mind and of body, and the possibility of the former surviving the
dissolution of the latter, seems to me of no consequence whatever.
It is, however, not a little extraordinary, that a considerable
number of philosophers, after admitting the distinction between
mind and matter, have yet supposed the soul to be a ray or an
emanation from the Deity, which at the dissolution of the body
will be again absorbed into the great source from which it pro-
ceeded. This seems to have been the opinion of many of the
ancient Stoics and a similar idea has been adopted by some
;

philosophers in modern times, who have compared the soul,

when joined to the body, to a small portion of the sea inclosed
in a vial and when separated from it, to the same water, con-
;

founded and intermixed, by the breaking of the vial which con-

tained it, with the ocean, from whence it was at first taken.
But this doctrine, though supported by great names, is not
more pernicious in its tendency than it is absurd and unintelli-
gible. The distinct consciousness we retain of our personal
identity, under all the various changes wliich the body suffers
during our progress through life, is the most important fact in
the history of the human mind, and it is that which affords the
strongest of all presages of its future destination. To speak of
differentminds being blended together and lost in one general
mass employ a form of words to wliich it is
of being, is to
absolutely impossible to annex a meaning, and is one of the
many absurdities into which ingenious men have been led, by
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 177

indulging their fancy in groundless analogies between intellectual

and material phenomena. It is, in truth, a language which is
infinitely more unphilosophical than that employed by the ma-
terialists, who suppose thinkiug to result from bodily organiza-

tion, and the whole man to perish at the moment of death. In

their practical tendency, I can see no difference between the
two opinions.
I have now stated all that I think it necessary for me to offer
in illustration of the argument for a future state derived from
the nature of mind, — an argument which, although it seems to
me to be highly favourable to our future hopes, I have avoided
to urge with the confidence of demonstrative certainty. In
entering upon 'the subject, I observed that those writers who,
from the immateriality of the soul, conclude that it is physically
and necessarily immortal, have pushed the conclusion too far ;

and that the proper use of the speculation concerning the na-
ture of mind, is not to establish the truth of the point in
question, but to refute the objections which have been urged
against the possibility of the proposition. Although our know-
ledge of the nature of mind may not be sufficient to afford us

any positive argument on the subject, yet, if it can be shown

that the dissolution of the body does not necessarily infer the
extinction of the soul and still more, if it can be shown that
;

the presumption is in favour of the contrary supposition, the

moral proofs of a future retribution will meet with a more
easy reception, when the doctrine is freed from the metaphysical
difficulties which it has been apprehended to involve. It is in

this moderate form that the argument from the light of nature

is stated by Butler ; and the considerations he mentions prove

fully, not only that no presumption against a future state can
be collected from the dissolution of the body, but that the con-
trary supposition is more agreeable to the general analogy of
nature. For establishing this conclusion, important hints may
be collected from Clarke's Letters to Dodwell, where, although
the reasoning may be insufficient to demonstrate the proposition
which the author had in view, it affords, at least, a satisfactory
refutation of all those cavils against a future state which sceptics
VOL. Vil. M
 —
;

178 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

have founded on the supposition of our thinking powers being

the result of our bodily organization.
Before proceeding to examine the moral evidences for a
future state, it may be of use to remark, in farther confirmation
of some of the foregoing reasonings, that there is nothing
absurd in the supposition, nor contrary to the analogy of those
laws by which we know the universe to be governed. There is

nothing even contrary to the analogy of what we have already

experienced in the former history of our own being. The
change which takes place in the state of the infant at the
moment of its birth may perhaps be analogous to the change
we are destined to undergo at the moment of our dissolution.
And it is probable, that, if an infant in the womo were capable
of reflecting on its condition, it would be as apprehensive of
the consequences of birth as we are of those of death. Some
beautiful illustrations of this idea are to be found in Bishop
Butler,*and indeed in various other authors, both ancient and
modern. It is touched upon with a pathetic simplicity by Sir
John Davis, f in the poem which I already quoted, [p. 172]
and Marcus Antoninus avails himself of it as an argument to
reconcile us to the appointed order of nature in the termination
of human life.

" It becomes a wise man neither to be inconsiderate, im-

petuous, or ostentatiously contemptuous about death, but to
await the season of it as one of the operations of Nature. As
you are now awaiting the season when the foetus shall come
out of the womb of your wife, thus await the season when your
soul shall fall out of these its teguments." 1
The transformation of insects has been brought in aid of the
same pleasing idea ; and although, when taken by itself, no
6tress can be laid upon it as a philosophical argument, yet,
when joined to other considerations, it will not appear without
some force to those who have directed their attention to the

* [Analogy, Part I. ch. i.. bit; Vol. I. '

De Rebut Suit, Lib IN |. Hi.

p. 16 and p. 36, edit. Glasgow, 1764. See also in Seneca's EpUtiu, end of
t [Of tic TmmortaHty or' the Soul, Letter cii.
sect, xxxiii.]
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.) 17^

analogies of nature. It shows, at least, that the supposition is

not quite anomalous, when compared with what we actually
know of the works of God
and it accords happily with the
;

numberless instances in which the instincts and the economy

of the lower animals seem to have been intended to typify to
the fancy the arts of human life, and the arrangements of
human affairs.

Dr. Butler himself has not thought unworthy of his notice,*

it

and Dr. Ferguson, in the following passage, has adorned it, not
only with the recommendation of his eloquence, but almost
with the colours of poetry.
" It has been observed that the Author of Nature appears to
delight in variety ; and we may now add, not merely in the
variety of description that may serve to distinguish quiescent
natures, but in the variety of steps also incident to the progress
and continued existence of one and the same being.
" Such are the successive variations exhibited in every part

of the vegetable, the animal, and the intellectual kingdom.

Among these there are examples of progression coming in one
line or direction to an end, but renewed in a different one.
The butterfly originates in a species of egg, which is deposited
on the leaf of a plant, from which the animal after he is
hatched may derive his nourishment. He lives at first in the
form of a worm or caterpillar. He enjoys the food that is pro-
vided for him, and, as far as we are qualified to observe, bears
no prognostic of any farther destination. But, having grown
to a certain dimension, he becomes and
restless in his place,

removes to some place of retreat, in which he may repose and

end his life undisturbed. He mounts to some height from the
ground, and makes himself fast, while his animal functions are
suspended, or apparently cease. In the meantime he takes a
new form, and, cased with an inflexible crusf, becomes what
the naturalists have called an aurelia or chrysalis, without any
power of local motion, or any appearance of life.
" But to the changes which he has thus undergone succeeds

in the proper season a change still farther removed from his

* [Analogy, Part I. chap, i]
 — ;;

180 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

original state. He
awakes from his torpid condition, breaks
the crust of the chrysalis in which he was cased, is borne aloft
upon wings variegated in the pride of most beautiful colours
and thus from a reptile that crept on the ground, or devoured
the grosser part of a leaf on which he was hatched, he comes
to perform all his movements in the air, and scarcely touches a
plant but to suck from its flower the finest part of the juices
he sports in the sun, and displays the activity of a new life,
1
during the heat and the light of noon/'

SECT. II. — OF
THE EVIDENCES FOR A FUTURE STATE ARISING
FROM THE HUMAN CONSTITUTION, AND FROM THE CIRCUM-
STANCES IN WHICH MAN IS PLACED.

The presumptions hitherto suggested in proof of a future

state, and which are drawn from the nature of mind, form
what is commonly called the metaphysical argument on this
subject. Those which I am now to state form what is called
moral argument. They are drawn chiefly from a comparison
of the constitution of man with the circumstances in which
he is placed at present; and when combined together they
form a mass of evidence incomparably more satisfactory and
impressive than any conviction arising from metaphysical
disquisitions.
The field of speculation which the moral argument for a
future state opens to the mind is so extensive, or rather so
boundless, that in the following remarks I must confine my
attention to a few of those particulars which appear to myself
to be more peculiarly important. Among these the most ob-
vious, and to the bulk of mankind one of the most striking,
is the presumption arising from.

(1st,) The natural desire of immortality, and the anticipations

of futurity inspired by hope.
These desires and anticipations are not to be confounded
1

Principles of Moral and Political Science, Vol. I

p| 25. [Pari I. chap
II ]
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§2.) 181

with the animal principle of self-preservation, nor even with

that love of which is natural to every man who is in good
life

health and spirits, and whose situation in the world is easy

aud comfortable. The instinctive principle of self-preservation
operates with as little reflection on our part as the winking
of our eyelids when the organ of sight is threatened with a
sudden injury, or as the effort we make to preserve the balance
of the body when we are in danger of falling. And as for the
cool and deliberate love of life, it is founded chiefly on our
attachment to sensual enjoyments, or to those frivolous distinc-
tions that are connected with our present condition whereas ;

the desire of immortality arises from our rational nature, from

our ardent aspirings at excellence and perfection, and from the
consciousness we have of the indefinite progress of which our
powers are capable. Indeed, the most effectual of all remedies
against that inordinate love of life which interferes with the
discharge of our duties, is a firm conviction of the soul's im-
mortality ;
that conviction which can alone enable a rational
mind to " smile at the dagger and defy its point." Even in
those men who are the most sceptical on this subject, when
they sacrifice life in a worthy cause, and from a regard to the
obligation of conscience, they are probably influenced at the
moment (perhaps unknowingly to themselves, for we are not
always acquainted with the real motives of our own actions)
by some indistinct anticipations of a future existence. For
what is the exultation accompanying a good conscience but a
fearless confidence in futurity, or, in other words, a conviction
that we have recommended ourselves to the favour of the
Kighteous Governor of the universe. On the other hand,
where the hope and belief of immortality are eradicated from
the mind by habits of dissipation or of profligacy, and where
sensual enjoyments are regarded as the sole constituents of
happiness, a mean and cowardly love of life seldom fails to
prevail. The prayer ascribed to Mecasnas is the genuine wish
of such an Epicurean.

" Debilem faoito manu,

Debilem pede, coxa;
 ;

182 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

Tuber adstrue gibbermn,

Lubricos quate denteR
Vitadum superest, bene est.

Hanc mihi, vel acuta

Si sedeam cruce, sustine." 1

Perhaps, however, even in this wretched attachment to life

which has been frequently discovered by profligates under the

greatest pressure of bodily sufferings, and when their minds
seem to have been completely relieved by habits of scepticism
from all prospect of future punishment, we may trace the secret
workings of that instinctive horror at annihilation which is
probably inseparable from the human constitution.
As the love of life is a distinct principle from the desire of
immortality, so those occasional longings for death which good
men may feel, when tired and satiated with earthly enjoyments,
or when those tender ties are broken which united their hearts
to this world, are carefully to be distinguished from a wish for
annihilation. The truth is, that it is in such situations that
the desire and hope of a future and a better existence are most
strongly felt ; and that this desire and hope, although they
contribute powerfully to reconcile us to our lot, and afford us
the strongest motives to remain without murmuring in the
station which is assigned us, are yet in a great degree the
causes of the disrelish we occasionally feel for life and its

pursuits, and of the satisfaction with which we look forward

to the grave. I do not deny that a wish for annihilation may
have been felt by some men whose prospects of futurity were
alarming, and perhaps by others of the worthiest dispositions
when under the gloomy imagination. There is,
influence of a
too, a certain state of lassitude, inactivity, and apathy, which
probably most men have experienced, which renders us not
only averse to every exertion, but disposes us to wish for rest
rather than enjoyment. In this diseased state of the mind it

is possible that the prospect of annihilation might give little

disquiet, and might even be more agreeable than that of the

I
Seivca, I\pi>tubv. v\. Cul-de-jatte. goutteux, manchot; pourm
••
Meoenaa fut un gal&nt horamo, q"*Q soratne,

II a dit quelque part : quVn me r >nde !m- /« *«*; •*•* ns* 17 J« - *& l'
lus <l
ue content*

,„,<„„,
I* Fontaine, Fabler
 ! — —

CHAP. IV. OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 183

active scenes on which we may afterwards enter. 1 But the

general fact unquestionably is, that an ardent desire of immor-
tality is natural to every mind whose prospects are not darkened

by remorse, or by a constitutional melancholy, and which is

capable of exerting all its various faculties in full vigour.

It deserves, too, to be remarked, that this desire most is felt

strongly by the best and wisest of men, by those who have

devoted their lives to the pursuit of knowledge and to the
practice of virtue ;and that they who give the readiest recep-
tion to the cavils of sceptics, and who can most easily reconcile
themselves to the thoughts of annihilation, are men who are
devoted to sensual pursuits, or who are intoxicated with the
vanity of earthly distinctions. This is not owing merely to
anticipations of reward and of punishment, but to the different
ideas of happiness which these two classes of men have formed.
The one places it in intellectual and moral pleasures, which
we know may be enjoyed to the last moment of life, and which
we can conceive to be enjoyed in much higher perfection
when the soul is separated from the body. The other places it
in animal gratifications, which are peculiar to a certain period
of life, for which we lose our relish as we advance in years, and
which, in all probability, will be confined to this first and lowest
stage of our existence.
To this cause it is probably owing, that in most cases the

1
Such seems to have been the state his son Joseph Priestley, these stanzas
of Gray's mind when he wrote his are quoted as a proof that Gray did not
Ode to his friend Mr. West,
—
" Barbaras look forward with anxious hope to a
«des aditure mecum," &c. In this future state. — See Appendix, No. ii. p.
Ode the following stanzas occur :
318. The authorp of this Appendix,
_
", O .„ .

ego fehx, vice 9i (nee unquara

,
we are given
& to understand in the title

Surgerem rursus) simili cadentem page, were Thomas Cooper, President

Parca me lenis sineret quieto Judge of the fourth district of Fennsyl-
Fallere Letho vania, and the Rev. William Christie.

- Malta flagranti radilsque cincto In ^P 1 ? to thif} remark l ha

'
0nl ™to
7
Integriaah! quam nihil inviderem, refer the reader to the second volume
Cum Dei ardentes medius quadrlgaa of Gray's Works by Mason, p. 140.
Olympus ?"
Sentit (Letter xxxi. from Mr. Gray to Mr.
In the Appendix to a work entitled Stonehewer.) [Quoted in previous
Memoirs of Dr. Joseph Priestley, writ- volume of the present work, Note D,
ten by himself, with a continuation by p. 415.]
184 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — D. TIT. DUTIES TO GOD.

desire and hope of a future existence increase in our declining

years, to the support of which the) are then more peculiarly 7

necessary. Plato alludes to this fact in that fine and pathetic

phrase of eXrms yr)porp6(f)o<; which he quotes from Pindar a ) ;

phrase which conveys so much in two words, that I shall not

run the risk of weakening it by attempting to illustrate it by
any comment. 1
Now, what inference are we to draw from this natural desire
and expectation ? That they are subservient while we are here
to the best of purposes, by increasing our happiness and ani-
mating our virtue, cannot be disputed. Perhaps it may be
supposed that this was the very purpose, and the only purpose,
which they were intended to answer that we are encouraged ;

by nature to indulge them, merely to render us happier in this

world, and better members of society but that we ought not :

to conclude from this that they will ever be gratified. But is

not this supposition founded on a sceptical weakness, similar to
what some men have indulged with respect to the immutability
of truth, and the competency of the human faculties to discover
it ? If such suggestions are listened to, there is an end of all

reasoning and That what is clearly demonstrated to

all belief.

our faculties is eternally and immutably true, the constitution

of our nature forces us to believe and when we reflect on the ;

attributes of the Deity, we feel this conviction if possible

strengthened. In
manner, whatever desires are evidently
like
implanted in our minds by nature, and are encouraged by the
noblest and worthiest principles of our constitution, we may
1
The following are the words of ererjerit, dulcis eum cor nutrien*, MM <-

Heyne :
— " Plato, De Rep. I. p. 330, E. tutem foveiif, comitatur spes, qua- ma.ri-
331, A. rf fully txvrZ (aJ/xov addit Sto- me mortalium vohdiiL in m
ani um (juber-
taen*, qui h. 1. exscripsit, p. 756,) \wit- not. — Versus restituit Hermannus.
Vor, &um IX«r>i £») «rifirr,, xu) iyxSh
MJytt
yXvmtU o\ x H V,k* kviriXXur* y%
ynprttyos, *i xaj por ^o
Xiyu. Xa{t-
\u ctopu
?

Urmt y*e *»»

»,««/», net) M*t
toZt' \ni»m iTrw,
riv (Hov ^ayuy*,,
or. h *v
^^ ^ $ ¥ar *,
j XtaTCL

wXirr^^t yttfiMt Kvi^f."

y1vx.ua. ol xfiphia,* irtraXXoura. yvporpi- ^.
r
~t \ m uuXitrra.
j a -
9var*Y
Inula n
T .

(
.,
urmina
. .

el
,,
f nuimcnta, mm
<Do( EiivecpiT
r iXirif, a. to- . , ., .. .. pi
,
< ,
B AdnvUitwmlms ; ltcruin COTAVlt C hr.
Xurrpf, y>^«> »•*«*»*
,;„„, Vo IU
11( V1H>
.
,
pp fi0| Bl<
Qaicvnqvt juste tancteque vitatn Lipmte, 1817.
 CHAP. IV.— OF A FUTURE STATE. (§2.) 185

reasonably conclude, will in due time be gratified under the

government of a Being infinite both in power and goodness. At
least it must be allowed, that, if other considerations appear

favourable to our future expectations, the natural desires of the

human mind ought to be allowed some force in strengthening
the presumption.

(2dly;) Let us reflect, in the second place, on the natural

sentiment of the mind when under the influence of remorse.
A murder (we shall suppose) has been perpetrated, from mo-
tives of fraud or revenge, without any human witness, and
without any circumstance that could lead to a detection. No
punishment is to be apprehended from any earthly tribunal.
Is this sufficient to quiet the apprehensions of the murderer ?
Experience shows us the reverse, and furnishes numberless
instances in which the recollection of such a crime, though com-
mitted with every circumstance of privacy, has been sufficient
to poison all the enjoyments which luxury could and even
offer,

to render life itself insupportable. In vain the murderer seeks

for a refuge from the persecutions of conscience *«w mingling
in the busy scenes of life. He has lost the intrepidity of inno-
cence, and trembles to look even his friends in the face, lest his
guilt should appear through all the disguises of his countenance.
From which affords a good man a
society he flies to solitude,
retreat from the storms of fortune and where the soul, long
;

harassed with cares, and sick of the restraints which the world
imposes, indulges the natural current of its thoughts and feel-

ings, and gradually regains its strength and its serenity. But
the pleasures of solitude are known to the virtuous alone. To
the guilty it is full of terrors. Every walk is haunted with
spectres,and the tranquillity and peace he sees around him only
render his guilt and his danger the more striking to himself and
the more alarming. Even the reflection that his crimes have
passed unpunished on earth, serves at times to aggravate his
horrors. The blood he has spilt seems on that very account to
call the louder to Heaven for vengeance and he conceives his
;

punishment in a future state to be the more certain and the

186 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

more unavoidable, that he has made no atonement while here

to the society he has injured. Under the influence of such ap-
prehensions, a murderer has been frequently known, many years
after the perpetration of the crime, to feel his existence so in-
tolerable a burden, that he has voluntarily revealed his own
guilt, and delivered himself up an ignominious death.
to The
vulgar generally believe that Providence sometimes interferes
by a miracle to bring secret murders to light but in this, as;

in other instances, Providence acts agreeably to general laws,

and has provided a restraint on this most dreadful of all crimes,
by that infatuation which remorse produces, and which seldom
fails, sooner or later, to lead to a detection. Facts of this sort
are surely strong indications of the moral government of God,
and afford strong presumptions of a future retribution.

(Sdly;) The observations which have hitherto been made re-

late entirely to those anticipations of futurity which nature
forces occasionally on the minds of men, even of those who
all

are the least disposed to serious reflection. Let us now consider

the presumptions which arise from a more extensive and phi-
losophical survey of our faculties and of our situation in the
world.
When we examine the and the external condition
instincts
of the lower animals, we find them to be exactly accommodated
to those desires and wants which nature has given them.
What were the ultimate purposes of their creation it is im-
possible for us to ascertain. Some of them seem to be placed
in this world chiefly for the use of man, so wonderfully are
their instincts adapted to his purposes ; others, perhaps, were
intended for no farther end than to taste to a certain degree of
the bounty of their Maker, and (as Goldsmith expresses it)
" to animate the solitudes of nature." But, with respect to all
of them, we may remark an exact accommodation of their con-
dition to their desires and to their capacities of enjoyment.
These desires and enjoyments seem to be entirely of the sensual
kind, excepting perhaps when an animal is under the influence
of the conjugal or the parental affections, or in the case of those
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 187

who delight in the society of their own species. But whatever

desires or whatever capacities of enjoyment any animal is pos-
sessed of, the object fitted to gratify it is supplied by nature,
and the animal is guided by an unerring impulse to the em-
ployment of those means by which the object is to be attained.
The enjoyments may be low in comparison to ours, but they
are suited to the creatures for whom they are destined, and
they are not degraded in their estimation by any mortifying
comparisons with the pleasures which belong to superior orders
of beings. Indeed, they do not seem to have the least curiosity
about the nature of any of the objects which surround them.
As the use of reason for the gratification of their wants is

superseded by their instincts, the powers of observation and

reflection have been kindly withheld from them ; and, as nature
has in a great measure taken upon herself the care of their
subsistence and accommodation, and employs them as blind
instruments for the accomplishment of her purposes, so she
seems to have relieved them of any anxiety for the future by
limiting their views to the present moment.
How different is all this from the condition of man He is !

left in many respects to the guidance of his own understanding,

and is incapable of accommodating his conduct to the estab-
lished course of nature, till he has made himself acquainted
with by experience and observation. To this observation of
it

nature he is prompted not only by his necessities, but by the

principle of curiosity, which leads him to prosecute his re-
searches even when his situation is easy and comfortable and ;

which therefore does not appear, like the instincts of the brutes,

to be subservient merely to the accommodation of his present

existence. It may be said, perhaps, that even when our curio-

sityengages us in inquiries which are merely speculative, we
are not entitled to conclude that these inquiries will never be
attended with any practical utility; that many discoveries
highly important to mankind have been made by men who had
no views of their application at the time, and who perhaps lived
many ages before these views occurred and that therefore an ;

important use of the principle of curiosity may be traced with-

188 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — 13. 111. DUTIES TO GOD.

out extending our views beyond the present world. The objec-
tion, I acknowledge, is so far just; but still it seems to me
that this principle has a manifest reference to higher purposes.
If man was intended only to be an inhabitant of this globe, and
if the principle of curiosity was bestowed on him only in sub-
serviency to his accommodation here, whence is it that he is in
general led to inquire more anxiously about distant and sin-
gular phenomena than about those which, from their nearness
or frequency, we should expect most interesting ?
to be the
Whence is it that his curiosity extends beyond the surface of

this globe, or at least beyond those astronomical facts which

may admit of a practical application ? Whence is it that he
delights in tracing the orbit and computing the motions of a
planet invisible to the naked eye, or in predicting the return of
a comet many ages after he shall be laid in the dust ? But
perhaps little could be inferred from our curiosity on these
subjects, if we were not so wonderfully supplied with the means
of gratifying it. Such, however, are the powers of the human
mind, that while the science of medicine remains involved in
uncertainty and error ; while the structure of the human body
is still imperfectly known ; while mechanics are not yet agreed
about the best form of the plough, — we are able to contemplate
the provisions which nature has made for supplying light to

the superior and more distant planets ; we are able to measure

the velocity of light itself; and, without passing the boundaries
of the visible universe, can transport ourselves in imagination
where the earth and all the planetary spaces vanish
to regions
from the eye. Even, however, when we are arrived at this
limit, we feel that the distance we have passed is but a point
in comparison of that infiuite space which forces itself on the
mind with an irresistible conviction of its necessary existence.

With respect to our own globe, how eager is our curiosity to

know the transactions of those generations which' have occupied
it before us ! And after exhausting all the treasures of remote
antiquity, how do we complain of the shortness of that period
which limits the province of history ! Our views, too, are often
turned forwards to the dark regions of futurity, where we see
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 189

time, like space, stretching to infinity, and we cannot help in-

quiring what events are likely to happen in succeeding ages.
Shall one generation of men follow another in endless succes-
sion, and each return to its original nothing ? Or is this world
only a state of preparation for higher scenes, where our intel-
lectual and moral powers may continually advance nearer and
nearer to perfection ?
I have hitherto taken no notice of that curiosity we feel con-
cerning the great Author of all the wonders we see around us.
Few will dispute that it is natural and reasonable in man to
inquire concerning his own origin and that of the various tribes
of animals he sees continually rising into existence ; concerning
that power which put in motion the different parts of the ma-
terial universe,and that wisdom which is the source of its
order and beauty. Our inquiries on these subjects are essen-
tially different, both in their nature and object, from all the

others in which we can employ our faculties and our disposi- ;

tion to engage in them affords a presumption in favour of a

future state perfectly distinct from those that arise from our
restless and insatiable curiosity about the objects of science ;

and a presumption, we may add, not liable to the same objec-

tions which might possibly be urged against some of the fore-
going reasonings. In our astronomical and physical researches,
for example, our object is to ascertain the laws of nature ; or,

in other words, to discover and to classify facts and conse- ;

quently, our inquiries, though they lead us into a more exten-

sive field, are precisely the same in kind with those which lay
the foundation of the practical arts, and of our conduct in the
common affairs of life. It might perhaps, therefore, be ima-
gined that our curiosity concerning the distant parts of the
universe, and the discoveries to which it has led, do not justify
the conclusions I formerly deduced from them, as these dis-
coveries are only to be regarded as the accidental and unavoid-
able result of principles which were implanted in our minds
for very different purposes : That although the knowledge of
many astronomical facts may not be subservient to our accom-
modation here, and although our faculties were not bestowed
190 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MOKAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

on us in order that we might be qualified for discovering theuj,

yet that the same measure of and of genius which was
curiosity
necessary for the purposes of life could not fail to bring ako to
light a variety of truths which do not admit of a practical ap-
plication. But what shall we say of our curiosity concerning
the Author of Nature, and the satisfaction we derive in con-
templating the marks of power, wisdom, and goodness which
are impressed on his works ? To what purpose are we ren-
dered capable of elevating our thoughts to him, if we are never
to enjoy a clearer view of his nature and attributes, and of the
manner in which he governs the material and the moral
world ? All that philosophy discovers to us with respect to
the events which happen in either, and all that is useful for the
purposes of human life to know, amounts only to this, that
particular events are constantly conjoined together, so that
when we see the one we may expect the other ; but although
we can discover no more, curiosity is not satisfied. Our con-
stitution determines us to believe that every event requires an
efficient cause, or implies the operation of power. And it is

this principle of our nature which suggests the belief of a

Deity. But how he operates, whether mediately or immediately,
and how the connexion between mind and matter is carried on,
are questions which, although they must excite the curiosity of
every man we may venture to say will
capable of reflection,
never be resolved by human genius. Wherever we direct our
inquiries, whether to the anatomy and physiology of animals,
to the growth of vegetables, to the chemical attractions and re-

pulsions, or to the motions of the heavenly bodies, we perpe-

tually perceive the effects of powers which cannot belong to

mere matter. To a certain length we are able to proceed but ;

in every research we meet with an impassable line a line —

which is marked with and which no man
sufficient distinctness,
now thinks of passing who has just views of the nature and ob-
ject of philosophy. It was indeed by pointing it out that

BaoOD did so much service to science. But although the nature

of these powers, and the mode of their operations, are not the
objects of our knowledge at present, we are certain of their
 ! :

CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 191

existence, and of their acting in subserviency to wise design.

So much it was necessary for man to know, to lay a foundation
for natural religion, and we can conceive no other purpose to
which this knowledge is subservient. It was plainly intended,
then, that man should have the idea of overruling power and
wisdom but to what end this idea if we are not to exist here-
:

after ? And why is our curiosity so strong with respect to

things beyond the limit of human inquiry, but to lead our
thoughts forward to futurity ? If it has not this effect on the
mind, the contemplation of the infinite perfections of the Deity,

and even a view of the magnificence of the material universe,

could only serve to damp the ardour of human pursuits, and
make the business of appear unworthy of our regard.
life

When we return from our excursions through the immensity

of space and time to a view of ourselves and of the globe
we
inhabit, what a short span does human life appear, and how
contemptible this boasted theatre of human ambition " Hoc !

est punctum, quod inter tot gentes ferro et igni dividitur ? . . .

— Cum te in ilia vere magna sustuleris ;

quotiens videbis exer-
citus sub rectis ire vexillis. . . . Libebit dicere
'It nigrum campis agmen.'

Formicarum iste discursus est in angusto laborantium." 1

" pudor ! stolidi pneceps vesania voti

Quantula pars rerum est, in qua se gloria jactat,
Ira frerait, metus exanimat, dolor urit, egestas
Cogit opes ; flaiuma atque veneno
ferro, insidiis,

Cernitur, et trepido fervent huruana tuniultu " 2

Such reflections can scarcely fail to force themselves on every

mind which contrasts the field of its present exertions with
those enlarged prospects of the universe which philosophy
opens ;
and they are certainly reflections which neither contri-
bute to make us happier in ourselves, nor more useful citizens.
On the contrary, their tendency in both respects is so manifestly
unfavourable, that it may be safely affirmed, that, if man had
no intimations of a future existence, it would have been better
1
Seneca, [Nat. Qucest., Lib. I. Praef.J
2
Buchananus, De Sphcera, Lib. I. 678, lat>t lines.
 ;

192 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWEKS. — B. 111. DUTIES TO GOD.

for him never to have extended his views beyond this globe and
the period of human life, instead of embracing, as at present, a
stretch of duration and of space which throws a ridicule on the
whole history of human affairs.

But on the other hand, we vary the supposition, and are

if,

led by a view of the magnificence of nature and the Divine

perfections to look forward to a better world, the scene in which
we are placed at present will be dignified in our estimation
from the important purposes to which it is subservient and ;

while we pity the folly of those who consider earthly enjoyments

as the ultimate objects of their pursuit, we will feel ourselves
called on by the most powerful motives to a strenuous discharge
of all our various duties.
These observations sufficiently show, that, if man was created
for this life alone, he possesses faculties above his condition
and that, if he were to act upon the supposition of his anni-
hilation at death, the extensive views he is able to form of the
universe would render him more unfit to perform his part as a
member of society, than if his intellectual attainments had been
more moderate and confined. But if our faculties are above
our condition, our curiosity is still greater than our faculties
can satisfy. And here, if I am not mistaken, we may perceive
an additional intimation of our future destiny.
It is justly observed by Mr. Maclaurin, in his view of New-
ton's Discoveries, as a very remarkable circumstance in our
present condition, —
That the inhabitants of this earth are
"
entirely cut off from all communication with the other great-
bodies of the universe, and that it is highly probable that simi-
lar obstacles prevent the possibility of a communication betwixt
the other planets and betwixt the different systems. We are
able by telescopes to discover very plainly mountains, precipices,
and cavities in the moon but who tread those precipices, or
;

what purpose those great cavities serve, we kuow not and we ;

are at a loss to conceive how this planet, without any atmo-

sphere, vapours, or seas, (as is now the common opinion of
astronomers,) can serve for like purposes as our earth. We
tvo sudden and surprising revolutions on the surface of the
 CHAP. IV. —OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 193

great planet Jupiter, which would be fatal to the inhabitants

of the earth. We observe in them all enough to raise our
curiosity, but not to satisfy it.From hence, as well as from
the state of the moral world, and many other considerations, we
are induced to believe that our present state would be very im-
perfect without a subsequent one, wherein our views of nature
and of its great Author may be more clear and satisfactory. It
does not appear suitable to the wisdom that shines throughout
all nature, to suppose that we should see so far, and have our
curiosity so much raised concerning the works of God, only to
be disappointed at the end. As man is undoubtedly the chief
being upon this globe, and this globe may be no less consider-
able in the most valuable respects than any other in the solar
system, and this system, for aught we know, not inferior to any
in the universal system, so, if we should suppose man to perish
without ever arriving at a more complete knowledge of nature
than the very imperfect one he attains in his present state, by
analogy or parity of reason, we might conclude, that the like
desires would be frustrated in the inhabitants of all the other
planets and systems, and that the beautiful scheme of nature
would never be unfolded, but in an exceedingly imperfect man-
ner, to any of them. This, therefore, naturally leads us to con-
sider our present state as only the dawn or beginning of our
and as a state of preparation or probation for farther
existence,
advancement which appears to have been the opinion of the
;

most judicious philosophers of old. And whoever attentively

considers the constitution of human nature, particularly the
desiresand passions of men, which appear greatly superior to
their present objects, will easily be persuaded that man was
designed for higher views than of this life. These the Author
of Nature may have in reserve, to be opened up to us at proper
periods of time, and after due preparation. Surely it is in his

power to grant us a far greater improvement of the faculties

we already possess, or even to endow us with new faculties, of

which at this time we have no idea, for penetrating farther into

the scheme of nature, and approaching nearer unto himself, the
First and Supreme Cause. We
know not how far it was proper
VOL. VII. n
194 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

or necessary that we should not be let into knowledge at once, but

should advance gradually ; that by comparing new objects or
new discoveries with what was known to us before, our improve-
ment might be more complete and regular ; or how far it might
be necessary or advantageous that intelligent beings should pass
through a kind of infancy of knowledge ; for new knowledge
does not consist so much in our having access to a new object,
as in comparing it with others already known, observing its

relations to them, or discerning what it has in common with

them, and wherein their disparity Thus our know-
consists.

ledge is vastly greater than the sum of what all its objects
separately could afford and when a new object comes within
;

our reach, the addition to our knowledge is the greater the more
we already know, so that it increases not as the new objects
increase, but in a much higher proportion/' 1
Having said so much with respect to our intellectual powers,
and the disproportion which they bear to the scene of their pre-
sent exertions, I proceed to consider another presumption in
favour of a future state, suggested by our means of enjoyment,
contrasted with the conceptions of happiness and of perfection
which we are able to form.
In appealing to this contrast, I do not mean to deny that
there is a rich variety of genuine pleasures placed within our
reach even at present, and that the sum of happiness in human
life far exceeds the sum of misery. But still the happiness
which falls to the lot even of the most fortunate, bears no pro-
portion to what we can conceive, or to that of which we feel

our natures to be capable. The pleasures of a good conscience

are indeed satisfactory and sublime ; but how many are the
imperfections even of the most virtuous ! How much of their
life is spent before they attain to a uniform and settled tran-
quillity, by correcting the defects of their constitutional or
acquired tempers, and by subduing the violence of their youth-
ful passions ! How often is their serenity overset by an here-
ditary melancholy, or by those bodily diseases which disturb

1
Mficlaurin's Account of Sir Isaac Nation's Philosophical Discoveries, Book VI.
chap. ix.
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 195

the imagination ! Nor is it only our 01011 imperfections which

affect our tranquillity. How often is it disturbed by those of
our friends ! How often do we see a trifling collision of passions
or of interests interrupt the harmony of men who would will-
ingly sacrifice their lives for each other ; or a groundless suspi-
cion and misapprehension occasion a temporary coldness between
those who, if they could read each other's hearts, would see
every thought pure, honourable, and sincere ! While we are
mortified with these reflections, can we avoid cherishing the
hope, that the time will come when our own characters shall
approach nearer to that ideal perfection to which nature teaches
us to aspire ; when the sunshine of the soul shall be no longer
liable to be overcast by the gloom of imagination or the storms
of the passions and when, in the society of those whom we
;

loved on earth, freed w ith us from the weaknesses of mortality,

T

we shall enjoy the intercourse of minds unobscured by earthly

prejudices, and indulge the kind affections of the heart, unal-
loyed by the possibility of change or of separation ?
Upon between our conceptions of happi-
this disproportion
ness and the possible attainments of human nature, is founded
(according to the ingenious remark of Lord Bacon) the delight
we derive from the fictions of poetical imagination. And this

delight, one of the purest and most exquisite we are

which is

capable of enjoying, is considered by the same profound and

original writer as furnishing a strong proof that the principles
of our constitution have a reference to higher scenes than those
1
with which our senses are conversant at present.

1 " Cum enim mundus sensibilis sit perire ullo raodo possit. Quapropter
anima rationali dignitate inferior, vide- cum res gestae et eventus, qui verae
tur Poe'sis haec hunianae naturae largiri, Historic subjiciuntur, non shit ejus am-
quae Historia denegat ; atque aniruo uni- plitudinis, in qua anima humana sibi

bris rerum utcunque satisfacere, cum satisfaciat, praesto est Poe'sis, quae facta

solida haberi non possunt. Si quis magis Heroicacontingat : Cum Historia

enim rem acutius introspiciat, firmum vera successus rerum, minime pro men-
ex Poesi sumitur argumentum, magni- tis virtutem et scelerum narrct, corngit

tudinem rerum magis illustrem, ordinem earn Poe'sis, et exitus et fortunas, sccun-
magis perfectum, et varietatem magis dum mcrita et ex lege Nemeseosexlubet.
pulchram, animae humanae complacere Cum Historia vera, obvia rerum satictate

quam in natura ipsa, post lapsum re- et siinilitudine, aninue bumanac fastidio
 — —

196 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD

To the truth of the fact on which this argument of Bacon's

proceeds, most men, I believe, will be ready to bear witness
from their own experience, that the happiness of human life

falls far short of those conceptions which the mind has a capa-

city and a disposition to form. But, abstracting entirely from

this consideration, and supposing all our dreams of happiness
to be realized, could we fail at times to reflect on the precarious
tenure by which we hold all our comforts ? That a moment
may dissolve our tenderest connexions, and leave us only the
remembrance of happiness which is never to return ? Or, if

we should be so fortunate as to escape from those severer trials,

that the inevitable hour is approaching when we must take a

last farewell of all that is dear to us. These pangs, arising
from the dissolution of the social connexions, are peculiar to
man. The other animals, as I already hinted, seem to enjoy
in some degree the pleasures of conjugal and parental affec-
tion ; but their connexions with each other are only temporary,
and are plainly subservient to no other purpose than the con-
tinuation of their kind ; a circumstance (by the way) which,
added some considerations formerly mentioned, affords a
to
very striking instance of the benevolent care our Maker has
taken to save his sensitive creatures from unnecessary suffer-
ings. 1 1 hey have no anticipation of the future, and of conse-

eit, reficit earn Poe'sis, inexpectata et right fasciculus to the left hemisphere,
varia et vicissitudinum plena canens. this spot being injured there is at once
Adeo ut Poesis non solum ad delec-
ista, an end of life, as is proved by the fol-
tationem, sed etiam ad animi magni- lowing facts :

tudinem et ad mores conferat." De [1st.] "

Butchers and huntsmen know
Aug. Scient. Lib. II. cap. xiii. (For a by experience that the least injury
translation of this passage see Taller, offered to this spot will be instantly
No- cviii.) fatal. The butcher will plunge his
1
The following observations have a knife accordingly into the neck of the
sufficient connexion with the foregoing ox at that spot, and so at once cuts
argument to justify their insertion here through the contexture of the nerves,
as a note. Tlio consequence is, that the animal
"The spot of the medulla spinalis, falls down, and after a few convulsions
where its two ascending main nerves ccaees to live.The huntsmen proceed
that form the great brain cross ono on the same principle when they cut
another, so that the left fasciculus of the through the neck of the game.
nerves proceed* to the right, and the " 2d. Those animals that kill others,
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 197

quence no anxiety about the termination of their existence

and they are freed almost entirely from the pangs which attend
the dissolution of the conjugal and parental connexions. As
the case in all these respects is different with man, we may
reasonably presume that these deductions from his happiness
are intended to answer important purposes. 1

will always seize them by the nech, and de bien les plus justes regrets. Ma-
bite through that part. In this manner dame de Lambert, plus agee que lui do
the hound will kill the hare, and the sept ans, et dont l'amitie fidele et pure
bird of prey its quarry. The pole-cat avoit fait la douceur de sa vie, lui sur-
worries its prey at a single spring ; and vecut pour conserver et honorer sa me-
Dr. Gall, that he might be thoroughly moire. Digne et triste objet de ses
acquainted with the process, locked up pleurs, il n'en eut point de repandre sur
a pole-cat for some time, daring which elle. Aiusi la nature, qui avoit tant
he fed it only upon bones till its teeth fait pour bocheur de M. de Sacy, y
le

were blunted. Whilst the pole-cat's mit le comble par une vieillesse heur-
teeth remained it was not able to
blunt, euse et paisible, exempte de ce senti-
kill the rabbits that were put into its ment douleureux que laisse au fond du
kennel with the same dispatch as for- cceur une perte eternelle et irreparable
merly ; but when they had again grown sentiment dont l'impression est d'autant
6harp, Gall observed, that, on the very plus profonde, que l'ame trouve une
first leap it made on the rabbit, it cut espece d'attrait a, s'y livrer, et de dou-
the little animal's neck on that very ceur a en gouter l'amertume ; sentiment
spot with a sharp fang, and instantan- que sa tristesse meme rend en quelque
eous death ensued. He observed the maniere desirable, puisqu'il nous fait
same thing at a hawking party of the regarder la mort comme un bienfait de
Emperor Joseph the Second. As soon la nature, non parce qu'elle met fin a
as the hawk had reached the hare, it des larmes qui nous sont cheres, mais
would immediately cut through that parce que ce malheur de l'humanite, si

part of her neck with its bill." — Gall's c'estun malheur de cesser de souffrir,
System of the Functions of the Brain ;
nous est du moins commun avec ceux
extracted from Charles Augustus que nous avons tendrement aimes, et
Bloede's Account of Gall's Lectures at nous laisse l'espoir consolant de les

Dresden. Translated from the German suivre bientot dans cet asile eternel et

to serve as an Explanatory Companion paisible, ou leur ombre nous a precedes,

to Gall's Plaster Skulls. See pp. — nous appelle. Madame
et ou leur voix

67, 68. de Lambert, qui survecut encore six

1
For the length of the following note annees a, M. de Sacy, entretint et nour-
I have no apology to offer it is enough ; rit toujours ce sentiment cher a son
to say that it is from the eloquent pen cceur. Jl11«
. joignit un espoir plus con-
y
of D'Alembert. solant encofe, celui que la divinite bien-
"M. de Sacy mourut
2G Octobre le faisantedonne aux ames vertueuses, de
1727, age de soixante treizeans, charge se reunir un jour pour n'avoir plus a
de travaux et de vertus, laissant a ses pleurer leur separation ;
espoir en effet

amis le plus cher souvenir, aux gens de sipropre a soulager les maux des cceura

lettrcs le plus digne modcle, aux gens sensible* espoir dont

:
la malheureus*
 — :

198 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

(4thly;) There is another part of our constitution which seems

to have a manifest reference to a future state. Our moral
habits continue improving to the last hour of life, and are
frequently strengthened and confirmed in a very remarkable
degree amidst those painful and lingering struggles which
precede our dissolution. Now, all those powers of our nature,
which appear to be accommodated to our present state alone,

begin after a certain period to decline. This is the case with

all the active powers of the body, and all the organs of percep-
tion. As we find then our moral habits are capable of im-
provement to the last, are we not entitled to conclude that they
are intended, not merely for discharging our duties in society,
but to qualify us for another existence ? Indeed, were the case
otherwise, would be difficult to give any plausible account of
it

the sufferings which commonly put a period to the life of man,

and which exceed so remarkably those which fall to the share
of any other species of animals.
What I have said with respect to moral habits is applicable
also to our intellectual desires. In the case of those who have
devoted themselves to study, the ardour of curiosity frequently
continues to the last unabated, and even increasing. And here,
too, a boundless field of improvement opens to our view, both
in our faculties themselves, to the progressive enlargement

humanite avoit un besoin si pressant, Grimm. His words arc these, speaking
qu'elle a couru, pouv ainsi dire, au-de- of the Eloges of D'Alenibert in general
vant de lui, avant que la Bontc Supreme "Uy a de l'interet et de la douceur
et Eternelle vonlut bien le lui presenter dans les eloges de Massillon, de l'Arch-
elle-meme. Un sentiment profond et evoque de Cambrai et de Flechier, r.mis
plein de vie, prive d'un objet cheri qu'il il n'y en a nucun ou l'on rcmarque une
no retrouveroit plus, et ne pouvant sup- sensibilite plus vraie et plus aimable que
porter l'ideo accablante d'etre aneanti dans celui de M. de Sacy. L'auteur y
pour jamais, a inspire, intcresse, eclaire peint l'amitie comme un homme qui en
la raison, pour lui faire embrasser avec a senti tout le charme et toute la puis-
tranBport ccttc attonto precieuso d'uno sanee. Quand M. D'Alembcrt fit cct
existence immortolle, dont lo premier elogc, il venoit de pcrdre Mademoiselle
deeir n'a pas du naitre dans une tete de Lespinosse ; on peut croire que co
froidc et philosophe, mais dans un ceour tableau touch ant fut trace sur la tombe
qui avoit aim6." de son amic." Memoires de Grimm,
The foregoing passage scorns to have Tome v. p. 160. Londrcs chcz Colburn,
touched the heart of even the Baron de 1814.- -Bee Note 1>.
 CHAP. IV. —OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 199

of which it is impossible for imagination to fix any limits;

and in the objects of our knowledge, which are as infinite as
the works of the Creator.

(5thly ;) Among the various considerations, however, which

intimate a relation between this world and another state of
being, there none which has had more weight in all ages
is

with serious and thinking men of every description, (whether

their minds have been enlightened by philosophy or not,) than
the discordance between our moral judgments and feelings,
and the course of human affairs.
That the course of human affairs is, on the whole, agreeable
to our ideas of good and ill-desert is sufficiently obvious, not
only from that self-approbation which is the inseparable at-
tendant of virtue, but from the tendency which virtue has to
procure us the favour of the world. Whoever reflects with
upon this will perceive manifest indications that the
attention
Being who presides over the universe is interested on the side
of good men and that whatever occasional evils may befall
;

them, their happiness is the leading object of those general laws

by which his government is conducted.
The existence, at the same time, of these occasional evils
cannot be disputed ; nor is it possible to deny, that in conse-
quence of them the moral government of God appears to us at
present not altogether perfect. It is on the supposition of a

future state alone that the difficulty can be removed ; and with-
out it many most striking phenomena of human life
of the
must remain for ever inexplicable. In some parts of the
material universe we are able to trace the most complete and
the most systematical order and beauty and we invariably ;

find that, in proportion as our knowledge extends, our views

of its government become more pleasing and more satisfactory.

The condition of the brutes, too, appears to us to be wonder-

fully accommodated to their various natures. Why then should
we suppose that it is with respect to man alone that the scheme
of Providence is to be left incomplete, or reject a doctrine sup-
ported by so striking a concurrence of separate and independent
 —
200 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

arguments, which furnishes a key to all the apparent disorders

of the moral world ?
These presumptions in favour of this most important of all
truths, drawn from the course of events in human life, are
stated with great force in one of the most eloquent passages of
Mr. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, to which, on account
1
of its length, I must beg leave to refer the reader.
I am aware of an objection that may be stated to this rea-
soning, and which has in fact been urged with considerable
ingenuity and plausibility by Mr. Hume that the only safe ;

principle on which we can pretend to judge of those parts of

the universe which have not fallen under our examination, is
by concluding them to be analogous to what we have observed.

. ..." Of God above or man below,

"What can we reason but from what we know?"*

Now, the only fact we know with respect to the moral govern-
ment of God is, that the distribution of happiness and misery
in human life, is in a great measure promiscuous. Is it not
then a most extraordinary inference from this fact, to conclude
that there must be a future state of existence to correct the
inequalities of the present scene ? Would it not be more
reasonable and more agreeable to the received rules of philoso-
phizing, to conclude either that the idea of a future state is a
mere chimera ; or that, if such an idea shall ever be realized,
the distribution of happiness and misery will continue to be as
promiscuous as we have experienced it to be ? The objection,
I confess, is not without some plausibility, but it will not bear
an accurate examination. For
a. Admitting the distribution of happiness and misery in
human life to be altogether promiscuous, this is not the only
fact from which we are entitled to reason concerning the moral
government of God. Our own moral constitution is a part of
the scheme of Providence, no less than the order of external
events and it has been already shown that this constitution
;

1
See Vol. I. p. 41, [417 ? *cq., Part TTT. chap, ?.]
* [Popo, F.txay on }fmi, Fp. i. 17]
 CHAP. IV. —OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 201

does not accord with the scene in which it is placed, but leads
us, not only to form conceptions of a more perfect order, but
to hope and expect that these conceptions will some time or
other be realized.
b. It is not a fact that the distribution of happiness and
misery here is altogether indiscriminate. On the contrary, it
has been shown, that, although the order of events does not
correspond completely with our ideas of good and of ill-desert,

it does so to so great a degree as must convince us that the re-

ward of and the punishment of vice, are the leading
virtue
objects of all those general laws by which the world is governed.
The exceptions which occur to these laws arise from accidental
circumstances connected with our present condition and sup- ;

posing these circumstances to be removed, the general laivs

continuing exactly as at present, nothing more perhaps would
be wanting to realize our hopes with respect to the moral
government of the universe.
This observation coincides in part with one of Dr. Butler's
concerning the tendencies of virtue and of vice, as contrasted

with their actual effects* Virtue, it is evident, would be much

more amply rewarded in this world than it is, and vice much
more severely punished, if the characters of individuals were
completely known, and if all those who felt themselves inter-
ested in the cause of morality had power corresponding to their

wishes. It is further evident, that these obstacles to the

natural tendencies of virtue and of vice arise from accidental
circumstances relative to our present state ; whereas the tend-
encies themselves arise from the nature of things, (or, in other
words, from the moral constitution of the human mind ;) and
therefore the moral government of the universe in general is to

be judged of, not from what we actually see here, but from
what we ivould see, if the tendencies of virtue and of vice were
realized by their being placed in a more favourable scene of
action.
extremely worthy of our attention, (as the same
It is also
profound author has farther remarked,) that virtue has a
* [Analogy, Fart T. cli.-'ps. ji. iii]
 !

202 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. 111. DUTIES TO GOD.

natural tendency to increase the power of a community or

society of men in proportion as it influences the conduct of the
members, by rendering the public good the common aim of
their actions by rousing the abilities of each individual to
;

study and to promote the general interest and by uniting them ;

all together by the principles of justice and humanity. In this

respect virtue has a natural tendency to prevail over vice, in
the same manner as reason has a natural tendency to prevail
over brute force. As reason, however, may, notwithstanding
this tendency, be sometimes overpowered by brute force, so

virtue may be sometimes overpowered by vice ; but still the

natural tendencies both of virtue and of reason to prevail over
their opposites remain indisputable ; and wherever they are
prevented from being carried into effect, the natural order of
things is plainly deranged or inverted.
Among the circumstances which check the natural tenden-
cies of virtue here, it is sufficient to mention, the difficulty of
knowing completely the characters of others in consequence of ;

which good men are prevented from forming that intimate

union w ith each other which virtue tends to produce, and an
r

unnatural alliance is often established between men of the most

opposite views and principles. We may add to this, the short-
ness of human life, which seldom allows the characters of indi-
viduals to display themselves fully, or their projects of benefi-
cence to be carried into complete execution. Other causes
besides these will readily present themselves to every one ; but
supposing even these to be removed, what a scene would human
life become ! How complete would be the triumph of virtue
over vice, even if the number of the wicked were to continue
undiminished
To illustrate a little more fully this observation concerning
the natural tendency of virtue, Dr. Butler supposes a kingdom
or society of men perfectly virtuous, to continue upon earth for
a succession of ages. For his very interesting description of
the happy consequences which would result from this supposi-
tion were it realized, I must refer lie reader to his work.
t

To those who reflect seriously on the description given by

 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 203

Dr. Butler,* (the chief heads of which may be easily imagined

by an and who consider at the same time
intelligent reader,)
how extremely probable it is (from what we know of the
analogies and of the unity of design displayed in the universe)
that our future condition will be not wholly different in kind
from what we have already experienced, 1 it will not appear a
very extravagant idea to suppose, that in another state good
men may be united together in such communities as have been
now imagined perhaps united with other beings who have
;

been trained to like habits in other parts of the universe ; for

(<
(as the same author has well observed) the immensity of
the material world forces us to conclude that there must be
some scheme of Providence vast in proportion to it."t Nothing
indeed could be conceived more inconsistent with that unity or
analogy of design, which is everywhere conspicuous in the works
of creation, than to suppose, that while all the different bodies
that compose the material universe are manifestly related to
each other, and form parts of one great connected whole, the
moral events that happen on our globe are quite insulated; and
that the rational beings which inhabit it, and for whom we may
reasonably presume the globe was made, have no relation what-
ever to other intelligent and moral natures. The presumption
unquestionably is, that there is one great moral system corre-
sponding to the material system and that the connexions
;

which we are able at present to trace so distinctly among the

sensible objects which compose the one, are exhibited to us as
so many intimations of some vast scheme afterwards to be dis-
closed to us, comprehending all the intelligent beings that
compose the other.
The remarks of Butler now referred to, afford, in my opinion,
a satisfactory answer to the objections which they were brought
to refute. If the distribution of happiness and misery in this

* [See Analogy, Part I. chap, i.] • • • • " What if Earth

Be but the shadow of Heaven, and things
1
The same idea occurs in Milton,
who seems to have thought the con-
e^To other like, more than on earth is
jecture not improbable, however differ- thought V— Paradise Lost, Book v. [174.]
ent from the common belief of the
WO) Id. f [Analogy, Part I. chap. iii. p. 83]
204 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

world were perfectly indiscriminate, then undoubtedly no argu-

ment for a future state could be drawn from the general laws
which regulate human affairs or (which comes much to the
;

same purpose) from what Dr. Butler calls the tendencies of

virtue and of vice ;* and in that case the evidences of a future
retribution would rest on the other considerations already stated.
But the tendencies of virtue and of vice are even in this world
sufficiently manifest to demonstrate that the general laws by
which the universe is governed, are favourable to the one and
hostile to the other. The distributive justice to which we look
forward hereafter, is a thing not different in kind, but only in
degree from what we experience an order ofhere. It is only
things carried into effect, towards which we everywhere around
us see a tendency. These tendencies, too, it must be remem-
bered, arise from the nature of things ; the obstacles to their
effects are merely accidental. If these obstacles were removed,
virtue and vice would really produce the which they at effects

present tend to produce or, in other words, the moral govern-

;

ment of God would exhibit the same perfection which we trace

in all the other operations of creation and Providence.
The result of all that has now been stated concerning the
nature of man, considered in its relation to the circumstances
in which he is amounts to this, that in the former
placed, —
there are many appearances to which there is nothing corre-
sponding in the latter and which we may therefore regard as
;

so many intimations that the ends of our being are placed be-
yond the reach of our researches at present. " Whoever con-
siders," says Dr. Ferguson, " the anatomy of the foetus, will

find in the structure of bones and muscles, in the organs of

respiration and digestion, sufficient indications of a design to
remove his being into a different state. The observant and in-
telligent may perhaps find in the mind of man parallel signs of
his future destination." This remark, which was first made in
his Institutes of Moral Philosophy, he has since illustrated 1

more fully in his larger work, where he has placed it in so

striking a point of view, that I shall borrow his words as the

• [Analogy, Parti, chap. Hi p. S3 ] ' Published for the use of hie student*.
 CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 205

most impressive conclusion to which I can bring this part of

my argument.
" If the human foetus were qualified to reason of his pro-
spects in the womb of his parent, as he afterwards may do in
his range on this terrestrial globe, he might no doubt appre-
hend in the breach of his umbilical cord, and in his separation
from the womb, a total extinction of life ; for how could he
conceive it to continue after his only supply of nourishment
from the had ceased ? He might,
vital stock of his parent
indeed, observe many parts of his organization and frame, which
should seem to have no relation to his state in the womb. For
what purpose, he might say, this duct which leads from the
mouth to the intestines ? Why these bones that each apart
becomes hard and stiff, while they are separated from one
another by so many flexures or joints ? Why these jaws in
particular made to move upon hinges, and these germs of teeth
which are pushing to be felt above the surface of the gums ?
Why the stomach through which nothing is made to pass ?
And these spongy lungs, so well fitted to drink up the fluids,
but into which the blood that passes everywhere else is scarcely

permitted to enter ?
"
To these queries, which the foetus was neither qualified to
make nor to answer, we are now well apprized the proper
—
answer would be, the life which you now enjoy is but tem-
porary and these particulars which now seem to you so pre-
;

posterous, are a provision which nature has made for a future

course of life which you have to run, and in which their use

and propriety will appear sufficiently evident.

" Such are the prognostics of a future destination that might

be collected from the state of the foetus and similar prognos-

;

tics of a destination still future, may be collected from present

appearances in the life and condition of man."*

I shall only add further on this subject, the confirmation

which the foregoing reasonings derive from their coincidence

* [Principles of Moral and Political Science, Part I. chap. iii. sect. 14.— Vol. I.

P. 327 ]
206 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

with the universal belief of mankind. Of the reality of this

belief (however disfigured by superstition and ignorance) no
one can doubt, who is either acquainted with the history of the
ancient world, or with the voyages of our modern navigators ;

and wherever the possibility of an existence after death is ad-

mitted, the doctrine of a future state is in so far confirmed by
the natural sentiments of mankind, without being at all affected

by the accessory articles of belief, which vary in every different

instance. " That the souls of men survive the dissolution of

the body," says Cicero, " we may consider as a truth sanctioned

by the universal belief of all nations."
— " In what manner this
anticipation of ages yet to come strikes its root so deeply in the
principles of our frame, I pretend not to explain." 1 Two
passages which at once illustrate Cicero's own opinion concern-
ing the force of the argument from general consent, and esta-
blish the truth of the fact on which the argument proceeds, as
far as the history of the world was known in his age.

With respect to those rude tribes which have been visited

by our modern travellers and navigators, it would be endless to
enter into details. It is sufficient to observe, in general terms,
that the assertion of Cicero concerning those parts of the globe
with which he was acquainted, may confidently be extended to
all which have been since explored. That it may not be pos-
sible to find out some exceptions to the universality of the fact,

I will not venture positively to affirm, not that I myself am —

disposed to think that any such exceptions do exist, but because
I am unwilling to afford any ground for cavil, particularly in a
case like the present, where I no danger of injuring my
am in
argument by the concessions I make. It is enough for my
purpose to remark, that, if any tribe of men is to be found
altogether destitute of religious impressions, it must be a tribe
so sunk in the scale of civilisation, as to have lost at the same
time the other characteristical marks of a rational and moral
nature. In hazarding this assertion, I am supported by the

1
" Permanere animos arbitramur con- modo inhsorct in mentions quasi seecul-
iensu nationum omnium [Tascul. Quczst. orum quoddam auguriura." — [Ibid. cap.
Lib. I. cap. xvi.j . . . Nescio quo- xv.]
 CHAP. IV. OF A FUTURE STATE (J 2.) 207

s authorit; : Mr. Hume, "Look our." says be.

'

for a people lyyou find them

destitute of religion: If
at all, be assured that thev are but few decrees removed from

I shall just add to this observation, that, in reading the .

counts given by travellers of the religious opinions of sav

tribe it allowances ought to be made for the mistakes t

are liable to in ascertaining the real state of :'.

their imperfect acquaintance with the languages by

which their information is acquired, added to the probable de-
B
::" sttoh languages on all subjects in which abstract id

are involved.
Many of the accounts which have been appealed to on the
present occasi: own refutation. Thus Fat
tain their
le Gobien. in his History of the Mat^anne Isles, alter ha*.
affirmed that their inhabitants >t disconar the slightest
idea of religion, tells us immediately after, that " they pra< I

invocation of the dead, whose skulls they preserve in their

houses, which they ascribe the power of controlling the
and to
elements, oi changing the seasons, and of restoring health ;

that they are persuaded of the immortality of the soul, and ac-
knowledge a paradise and a helL" It is difficult to conceive

how such opinions should prevail without some idea of a Deity.

In the voyagi - I Borne oi our late navigate ith

facts which, (supposing them to be well ascertained.") are not

east' licable. Such are those mentioned by Cook and
. corning the religious opinions of the South Sea
islanders. *•
From the rigid severity.*' says he. speaking of the
inhabitants of the Friendly Islands. with which some of their
mourning and religious ceremouies are exeeut uld
:-;t to find that they meant thereby to secure felicity to
themselves beyond the grave : but their principal object relates
to things merely temporal ; for they seem to have little concep-
tion of future punishment for faults committed in (hit
••
The inhabitants of Otaheite,*' says Hawkesworth,1 " believe

* [Essays, Vol. II. — The Hated Hbtay ofRe^gka, Bed xv. at a

1
r^jiopef, &c V | n
208 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

the immortality of the soul, and that there are two situations
after death somewhat analogous to our Heaven and Hell but ;

they do not suppose that their actions here in the least influence
their future state." Dr. Douglas, the learned editor of Cook's
last voyage, remarks how conformable to this is the belief of
the inhabitants of the Ladrones or Marianne Isles, as described
by Le Gobien.
— " lis sout persuades de l'immortalite de lame,
lis reconnoissent meme un paradis et un enfer dont ils se for-
ment des idees assez bizarres. Ce n'est point, selon eux, la
vertu ni le crime qui conduit dans ces lieux-la ; les bonnes ou
les mauvaises actions ny servent de rien."
With respect to these assertions, I believe I might be jus-
tified in calling them in question in their full extent, for the
reasons already mentioned ; more particularly as I was assured
by one of the most intelligent navigators of the present age, 1
(who, in the course of three voyages round the globe, had
better opportunities thanany other individual of studying the
genius and character of the South Sea islanders,) that, after a
residence of severalmonths at Otaheite, in the last visit he paid
to that island, he committed to the flames great part of the
papers he had written soon after his arrival, and which he had
imagined at the time contained very curious and accurate in-
formation, in consequence of the gross mistakes which a more
perfect acquaintance with the language discovered to him in
his narrative. The same gentleman added, that, although the
language is extremely easily acquired, in so far as is necessary
for the ordinary intercourse of a stranger with the natives, the
case is widely different where the conversation turns on more
general and abstract subjects.
Admitting, however, the fact to be as stated in the foregoing
extracts, it is so plainly contrary to the general history of man-
kind, that I should not hesitate to ascribe it to the influence of
artificial habits of thinking, superinduced by political institu-
tions. The natural sentiments of a people must not always be
judged of from their established creed, as this is often manu-
factured by priests and politicians, an assertion — for the proof
1
Captain Bligh.
 ;

CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 209

of which I need only refer to the doctrines taught by the Anti-

nomian divines of England during the usurpation of Cromwell.
Indeed, these doctrines were exactly similar in substance to
those which excite our astonishment so much when we hear of
them among the inhabitants of Otaheite or of the Ladrone
islands, the object of both being avowedly to separate faith from
morality, and to associate our ideas of merit and demerit with
the observance or neglect of external rites and ceremonies. 1 It
is against the same prejudice that these noble lines of Persius
are directed.

" Quin damus id Snperis, de magna quod dare lance

Non possit magni Messalse lippa propago ;

compositdm jus fasque animo, sanxtosque recessus

Mentis, et ixcoctum gexeroso pectus hoxesto :

Haec cedo ut admoveam templis, et farre litabo."*

That the moral feelings of the South Sea islanders ought not
to be rashly inferred from the imperfect accounts of their reli-
gion given by Cook, his own testimony is sufficient to show.
" u
The religious system," he observes in one place, of the inha-
bitants of Otaheite is extensive, and in many instances singular
but few of the common people have a perfect knowledge of it,

that being chiefly confined to the priests, who are pretty nume-
rous." (December, 1777.) The traces of a political religion are
discernible also in the account which he gives of the North
Zealanders.
" This perpetual state of war, and destructive method of con-
ducting it, operates so strongly in producing habitual circum-
spection, that one can hardly ever find a North Zealander off
his guard either by night or by day. Indeed, no other man
can have such powerful motives to be vigilant, as the preserva-
tion both of body and soul depends on it. For, according to
their system of belief, the soul of the man whose flesh is de-
voured by the enemy is doomed to a perpetual fire, while the
soul of the man whose body has been rescued from those

1
It may perhaps be questioned if these doctrines be yet entirely abandoned by
all the theologians of this island
* [Sat. ii 71.]

VOL. VII. O
 ; —

210 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

who killed hiin, as well as the souls of all who died a natural
death, ascend to the habitation of the gods/' —In this creed

we see evidently the hand of the political religionist and

—" Whatever
;

accordingly, Cook adds to the passage just quoted

the principles of this religion may be, of which we remain very
ignorant, its instructions are very strongly inculcated into them
from their very infancy." (February, 1777.) In its general
spirit and tendency, it seems to bear a remarkable resemblance

to that of the Druids, so nobly expressed by Mason in the last

chorus of Caractacus where, after painting the wretched con-
y

dition of the cowardly and the servile, Death (who is the

speaker) contrasts it with the happiness purchased by those
who fall bravely in the field.

" — Not such the meed that crowns the sons of liberty.

No, my Britons ! Battle-slain

Rapture guilds your parting hour
I, that all despotic reign,
Claim but there a moment's power.
Swiftly the soul of British flame
Animates some kindred frame ;

Again to light and life triumphant flies ;

Exults again in martial ecstasies,

Again for freedom fights, again for freedom dies."

Upon the whole, without entering into a minute discussion of

the facts alleged by particular travellers, we may safely affirm
that the doctrine of a future state and of a future retribution is

sanctioned by the general voice of mankind, in whatever man-

ner the principles of their nature may be modified by the place
they occupy in the scale of civilisation. The refinement of their
sentiments on the subject varies, indeed, with the cultivation
which their faculties have received ; but in no state of society are
they altogether deprived of those hopes of futurity which lighten
the pressure of their present sufferings. That these hopes ori-
ginate partly in the infirmities and prejudices of men, affords no
presumption whatever against the reality of the objects towards
which they are directed for here, as in many other instances,
;

the tendency of our prejudices coincides with the conclusions

of an enlightened reason ;
and affords to those who enjoy the
 CHAP. IV. —OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 211

comprehensive views of the universe which philosophy opens,

an additional ground of gratitude to that Providence which, as
in the case of the individual, it guards his animal existence by
means of implanted instincts in the infancy of human reason,
so in the case of society, it often anticipates the conclusions of
philosophy by prejudices inspired by our weaknesses and neces-
sities. In this instance, however, it is not prejudice alone that
leads the unenlightened savage to the truth, but the influence
also of thosemoral considerations already illustrated, some of
which are no less obvious and impressive to the rude and
ignorant mind, than to those whose understandings have been
illuminated, and whose feelings have been refined by science.
Of the two great principles of natural religion, the belief of a
Deity and of a future state, it is remarkable that the latter seems
to be still more inseparable from our constitution than the
former, —
a fact which coincides with a remark already made,
that even absolute atheism does not exclude the possibility of
our existing hereafter. Dr. Kobertson,* who admits that
" several tribes have been discovered in America which have no
idea whatever of a Supreme Being, and no rites of religious
worship/' asserts, " that the belief of a future existence may be
traced from one extremity of America to the other ; in some
regions more and obscure, in others more perfectly devel-
faint
oped, but nowhere unknown. The most uncivilized of its savage
tribes do not apprehend death as the extinction of being. All
hope for a future and more happy state, where they shall be for
ever exempt from the calamities which embitter human life in
its present condition."
—
" The human mind," says the same elo-
quent and philosophical historian, " even when least improved
and invigorated by culture, shrinks from the thoughts of dis-
solution, and looks forward with hope and expectation to a
future existence. This sentiment, resulting from a secret con-
sciousness of its own dignity, from an instinctive longing after
immortality, is universal, and may be deemed natural. Upon
this are founded the most exalted hopes of man in his highest
state of improvement nor has nature withheld from him this
;

* [History of America.]
212 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

soothing consolation in the most early and rude period of his

progress/'

I have now stated pretty fully the principal evidences which

the light of nature affords in proof of a future state. Of the
different considerations I have mentioned, there is perhaps not
one which, taken singly, would be sufficient to establish this
important truth ; but taken in conjunction, their united force
appears to me far to outweigh all the metaphysical doubts and
difficultieswhich have been started on the other side of the
question. They not only all terminate in the same conclusion,
but they mutually reflect light on each other and have all ;

that sort of consistency and connexion among themselves, which

could hardly be supposed to take place among a series of false
propositions. " Truth," as Mr. Hume* has remarked, u is one
thing, but errors are numberless, and every man has a different
one." When we find, therefore, a variety of conclusions, to
which we have been led by separate and independent processes
of reasoning, to be all consistent with each other, this furnishes
a strong presumption that all these conclusions are true.
The same remark may be extended to the other principles of
natund religion. They all hang together in such a manner,
that, if any one of them be granted, it facilitates the way for
the reception of all the rest Admit, for example, the existence
of the Deity, — his wisdom, justice, and goodness, (all of which
considerations conspire powerfully in strengthening the pre-
sumption for a future state,) may almost be said to follow as
corollaries from the very idea of a God ;
— and, on the other
hand, our instinctive desire of immortality, with all the hopes and
fears connected with it ; our speculations concerning the nature
of the soul and a great variety of other inquiries, continually
;

Lead the thoughts to that invisible Being who is the great source
of existence and the Supreme Arbiter of happiness and misery.
It may not be improper to repeat once more in this last
stage of our argument, that, although the belief of a God
strengthens greatly the presumption for a future state, yet it

• [After ma))- cithers.)

 CHAP. IV. —OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 213

would not necessarily follow, on the supposition of atheism,

that a future state is impossible. The same chance, or the
same necessity which brought us into this world, may carry us
into another. Nay, a variety of considerations might be alleged
to show that this supposition was more 'probable than the con-
trary one. The principal effect that the atheistic scheme would
produce on the future prospects of a man who reasoned conse-
quentially from it would be to fill his mind with uncertainty
and alarm about his future destination, by leading him to con-
sider himself as the victim of blind and unintelligent causes.
Dr. Butler was, I believe, the first who made this observation
with respect to the possibility of a future state on the supposi-
tion of atheism ;* and it has been repeated by M. Necker in
his Treatise on the Importance of Religious Opinions. " How
happens it," says this ingenious and eloquent writer, " that
some pretend that atheism frees us from every kind of terror
about futurity ? I cannot perceive that such a conclusion
follows from this fatal system. A God such as my heart de-
lineates encourages and moderates all my feelings. I say to
myself he is good and indulgent. He knows our weaknesses,
he loves to produce happiness, and I see the advances of death
with confidence and hope. But every fear would become rea-
sonable if I lived under the dominion of an invisible nature
whose revolutions and laws are unknown. I seek for some
means to escape from its power, but even death cannot afford
me a retreat, or space an asylum. A blind nature surrounds
me and governs me imperiously. I in vain demand what is to
be done with me It is deaf to my voice. Devoid of thought,
:

will, and feeling, it is governed by an whose

irresistible force,

action is a mystery never to be unfolded. What a fatal blow

to my happiness to abandon all my ideas of infinite wisdom,
justice, and goodness to believe that the universe is without a
;

Father and Governor, and that there is no power in nature that

I can invoke as a protector ! Were I even to apprehend that
my prospects terminated here, I should be less unhappy if it

was to a parent and a benefactor that I resigned my being.

* {Analogy, Part I. chaps. i.-iii.J
214 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

This communication with him would mitigate my suffer-

last

ings. My eyes when closing would perceive his power. I

might still hope that God remained with those I loved and ;

find some comfort in the thought, that my destiny was united

with his will, and that the incomprehensible darkness I was
going to plunge into is equally a part of his empire."
Nor is it merely with each other that the principles of natural
religion are connected. They have a relation to all the other
principles of moral philosophy ; insomuch, that a person who
entertains just views of the one, never fails to entertain also
just views of the other. Indeed, I do not think that I should
go too far were I to assert that they have a relation to almost
all the truthswe know, whether in the moral, the intellectual,
or the material worlds. One thing is certain, that, in propor-
tion as our knowledge extends, our doubts and objections dis-
appear new light is continually breaking in upon us from
;

every quarter, and more of order and system appear in the

universe. It is chiefly from partial and limited views of nature
that scepticism arises, not only as these views suggest to us
objections which would vanish upon a more enlarged acquaint-
ance with the subject, but as they withdraw the attention from
those comprehensive and sublime prospects of the universe
which impress the mind with an irresistible conviction of wise
and beneficent design. A natural philosopher, for example,
who confines his attention to a particular problem in physical
astronomy, is much less likely to be struck with the marks of
Divine contrivance than if he were to attend to the solar system
in general, and to study the mutual relations of its different
parts. This is probably one cause of the difference between
the character of some late mathematicians on the continent and
that of their predecessors, that the latter had exhausted the
grandest views of the universe, and left to their successors only
the study of it in detail. A philosopher who (like Bacon) ex-
tends his inquiries to all the different branches of science, is

still less in danger of scepticism than if he were to confine

himself to the study oi' physics ; ami in general the more we
know the more we perceive of order and system in the universe,
 CHAP. IV, — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 2.) 215

and the more satisfied do we feel ourselves with the condition

and the prospects of man.
It is a strong confirmation of these observations that almost
all the great discoveries, both in moral and physical science,
have been made by men friendly to the principles of religion and ;

that those writers who have affected to be sceptical on this last

subject, have in general been paradoxical and sophistical in all
their other scientific inquiries. This not only shows the con-
nexion which subsists between the different truths which are
placed within our reach, but proves that it is to a mind well
fitted for the discoveryand reception of truth in general that
the evidences of religion appear the most satisfactory. When
an author, for example, who affects to be sceptical about the
Divine existence, is also found in the course of his speculations
to doubt of his own and about the certainty of mathematical
science, it must go weaken his authority as a guide in
far to
philosophy. Of the competency of the human faculties to
attain truth on the most abstruse subjects, we have an experi-
mental proof in the unerring certainty with which we are able
to predict the phenomena of the heavens many centuries before
they are to happen. And why should we doubt the clear con-
clusions of our reason in those other inquiries, where, from
their nature, we have not at present the same opportunity of
verifying them by the fact ? One thing I may venture to
affirm, that, had we not this sensible and palpable confirmation
of the certainty of mathematical and astronomical science, it

would be difficult to vindicate against the charge of presump-

tion those men who pretend to decide with confidence concern-
ing a part of the universe, apparently so far removed from the
examination of our faculties.
Now, surely it is no inconsiderable presumption against the
reasonableness of a sceptical disposition in religion, that it mis-
leads us also in the other sciences, and, I may add, unfits us
for the business of lifewhereas just views of religion teach us
;

to think favourably of the human faculties, and both animate

and direct us in the search of truth, in whatever inquiries we
may happen to engage.
21G PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO CO D

Consider, loo, in what state of mind men are chiefly disposed

to be sceptical. Is it not when oppressed with low spirits, and
when out of humour with themselves and with the world ? On
the contrary, most healthful condition of the soul,
it is in the
when external nature smiles around us, when all our faculties
are vigorous and active, when we are satisfied with ourselves,
and engaged in the service of mankind, that we feel the most
sensibly our relation to another state of existence, and, without
any long process of reasoning, become as it w ere conscious
r
of
the indissoluble and eternal union between happiness and virtue.
Perhaps this circumstance by itself would not prove much, but
added to those already mentioned, it seems to me to have some
weight.
The happy influence which the belief of a future state has on
the conduct and the enjoyments of mankind also tends to con-
firm its credibility. This is so remarkable that it has led some
to consider it merely as an invention of "politicians to preserve
the good order of society, and to increase the happiness of human
life. But if it be allowed that it has this tendency, can it be
supposed that the Author of the universe should have left the
order and happiness of social life to depend on the belief of a
mere chimera, which was in time to vanish before the light of
philosophy ? Is it not more probable that the enlargement of
our knowledge, to which we are so powerfully prompted by the
and not to diminish
principle of curiosity, will tend to increase,
the virtue and the happiness of mankind and instead of ;

spreading a gloom over nature, and extinguishing the hopes

which nature inspires, will gradually unfold to us in the moral
world the same order and beauty we admire in the material p

After all that I have urged in proof of a future state, I must

again repeal (and the same remark may be extended to the
fa of religion in general) that the evidence which the light
»n affords on the Bubjecl is only moral or probable, and by
no i
fa d< monstrative nature. But what is the evidence
nn which wc 'Very day aei in life ? Precisely of the same kind, 4

and often wry inferior in degree t<> that which results from the
u
msidcrations. It ought," Bays Dr. Butler, "to he
 :

CHAP. IV. — OF A FUTURE STATE. (§2.) 217

forced upon the reflection of sceptical persons, that such is our

nature and condition, that they necessarily require us, in the
daily course of life, to act upon evidence much lower than what
is commonly called probable; and that there are numberless

instances respecting the common pursuits of life where a man

would be thought in a literal sense distracted, who would not
act, and with great application too, not only on an even chance,

but on much less, and where the probability was greatly against
his succeeding/'*
It may perhaps be asked why the evidences of a future state
were not made more striking and indubitable ; why human
reason was left so much in the dark on a subject so interesting
to our happiness ; and why even that Kevelation which has
brought life and immortality to light, has not afforded us a
clearer view of the occupations and enjoyments of futurity. To
these questions it would be presumptuous to attempt a direct
reply. But surely we may be permitted to observe, that the
evidences of a future state may be easily conceived to have been
so irresistibly strong, and the prospect of our future destination
so clearly presented to our view, that the world would no
longer have answered the purpose of a state of probation ; nor
would the business of life have afforded any object of sufficient

magnitude to interest our passions, and call forth our actions.

" A sense of higher life would only damp

The school-boy's task, and spoil his playful hours
Nor could the child of reason, feeble man,
With vigour through this infant being drudge,
Did brighter worlds their unimagined bliss

Disclosing, dazzle and dissolve his mind." 1

This idea is illustrated with his usual taste and judgment,

and with somewhat more than his usual originality of thought,
by Dr. Blair, in his discourse on our imperfect knowledge of a
future state and it has been placed in a singularly happy
;

point of view by Bernardin de St. Pierre, in his ingenious and

eloquent work, entitled Studies of Nature.

* [Analogy, Introduction.] \

1
Thomson's Liberty, [Tart iii. 565.]
218 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

M. de St. Pierre, " that, on my return to

" I recollect/' says

France in a vessel which had been on a voyage to India, as

soon as the sailors had perfectly distinguished the land of their
native country, they became in a great measure incapable of
attendiDg to the business of the ship. Some looked at it wist-
fully without the power of minding any other object ; others
dressed themselves in their best clothes, as if they had been
going that moment to disembark ; some talked to themselves,
and others wept. As we approached, the disorder of their
minds increased. As they had been absent several years, there
was no end to their admiration of the verdure of the hills, of
the foliage of the trees, and even of the rocks which skirted the
shore covered over with seaweed and mosses. The church
spires of the villages where they were born, which they distin-
guished at a distance up the country, and which they named
one after another, filled them with transports of delight. But
when the vessel entered the port, and when they saw on the
quays their friends, their fathers, their mothers, their wives,
and their children stretching out their them with tears
arms to
of joy, and calling them by their names, it was no longer pos-
sible to retain a single man on board. They all sprang ashore,
and it became necessary, according to the custom of the port,
to employ another set of mariners to bring the vessel to her
moorings.
" What then would be the case were we indulged with a
sensible discovery of those regions inhabited by those who are
most dear and who alone are worthy of our most sublime
to us,
affections ? All the laborious and vain solicitudes of a present
life would come to an end. The exit from this world to the
other being in every man's power, the gulf would be quickly
shot but nature has involved it in obscurity, and has planted
;

doubt and apprehension to guard the passage."*

* [Herewith U'lininates " Tlic Preliminary Inquiry into the Principles of Natural
I.'Ji'jion."]
 [CHAPTER V.

CONCLUSION OF BOOK THIRD.— WHY LITTLE NEED BE ADDED

CONCERNING THE DUTIES WHICH RESPECT THE DEITY.J

After the view which has been given of the principles of

Natural Religion, little remains to be added concerning the
Duties which respect the Deity. To employ our faculties in
studying those evidences of power, of wisdom, and of goodness
which he has displayed in his works, as it is the foundation in
other instances of our sense of religious obligation, so it is in
itself a duty incumbent on us as reasonable and moral beings,
capable of recognising the existence of an Almighty Cause, and
of feeling corresponding sentiments of devotion. By those who
entertain just opinions on this subject, the following practical
consequences, which comprehend some of the chief effects of
religion on the temper and conduct, will be readily admitted as
self-evident propositions.
In the first place, if the Deity be possessed of infinite moral
excellence, we must feel towards him, in an infinite degree, all

those affections of love, gratitude, and confidence, which are

excited by the imperfect worth we observe among our fellow-
creatures ; for it is by conceiving all that is benevolent and
amiable in man raised to the highest perfection that we can
alone form some faint notion of the Divine Nature. To cultivate,
therefore, an habitual love and reverence of the Supreme Being,
may be justly considered as the first great branch of morality ;

nor is the virtue of that man complete, or even consistent with

itself, whose mind those sentiments of piety are wanting.
in
Piety seems to be considered by Mr. Smith* as founded in
some degree on those principles of our nature which connect us
* [Theory of Moral Sentiments, Tart III. chap. v. Birth edition ; in the older

editions, than, iii.]

220 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

with our fellow-creatures. The mind which ac-

dejection of
companies a state of complete solitude the disposition we have
;

to impart to others our thoughts and feelings the desire we ;

have of other intelligent and moral natures to sympathize with

—
our own, all lead us, in the progress of reason and of moral
perception, to establish gradually a mental intercourse with the
Invisible Witness and Judge of our Conduct. An habitual
sense of the Divine presence comes at last to be formed. In
every object or event that we see we trace the hand of the
Almighty, and in the suggestions of reason and conscience we
listen to his inspirations. In this intercourse of the heart with
God, (an intercourse which enlivens and gladdens the most
desolate scenes, and which dignifies the duties of the meanest
station,) the supreme felicity of our nature is to be found ; and
till it is firmly established there remains a void in every breast
which nothing earthly can supply ;
—a consideration which
proves that religion has a foundation in the original principles
of our constitution, while it affords us a presage of that im-
mortal happiness which Providence has destined to be the
reward of virtue.
Secondly, Although religion can with no propriety be con-
sidered as the sole foundation of morality, yet, when we are
convinced that God is infinitely good, and that he is the friend
and protector of virtue, this belief affords the most powerful
inducements to the practice of every branch of our duty. It
and to
leads us to consider conscience as the vicegerent of God,
attend to its suggestions as to the commands of that Being
from whom we have received our existence, and the great
object of whose government is to promote the happiness and
the perfection of his whole creation.
These considerations not only are addressed to our gratitude,
but awaken in the mind a sentiment of universal benevolence,
and make us feel a relation to every part of the universe. In
doing our duty we conceive ourselves as fellow-workers with
the Deity, and as willing instruments in his hands for pro-
moting the benevolent purposes of his administration. This is
that sublime sentiment of piety and benevolence which we
 !

CHAP. V. — CONCLUSION. SPECIALLY OF OUR DUTIES TO GOD. 221

meet with so often in the writings of the ancient Stoics. " Shall
any one," says Antoninus, " say, Oh beloved city of Cecrops
and wilt not thou say, Oh beloved city of God?'*
In this manner it appears that a sense of religion is favour-
able to the practice of virtue in two respects first, by leading ;

us to consider every act of duty as an expression of gratitude

to God ; and, secondly, as leading us to regard ourselves as
parts of that universal system of which he is the Author and
Governor. There is another respect in which it is calculated
to influence our conduct very powerfully, as it is addressed to
our hopes and fears. In this view religion is a species of
authoritative law enforced by the most awful sanctions, and of
which it is impossible for us by any art to elude the penalties.
In the case of the lower orders of men, who are incapable of
abstract speculation, and whose moral feelings cannot be sup-
posed to have received much cultivation, it is chiefly this view
of religion, as addressed to their hopes and fears, that secures
a faithful discharge of their duties as members of society. In
vain would the civil magistrate attempt to preserve the order
of society by annexing the penalty of death to heinous offences,
if men in general apprehended that there was nothing to be
feared beyond the grave. And it is of importance to remark,
that this observation applies with peculiar force to the lower
orders, who have commonly much less attachment to life than
their superiors. Of this truth all wise legislators, both ancient
and modern, have been aware, and have seen the necessity of
maintaining a sense of religion among their fellow-citizens as
the most powerful of all supports to the political order. " Ut
aliqua in vita formido improbis esset posita, apud inferos ejus-
modi quasdam illi antiqui supplicia impiis constituta esse
voluerunt quod videlicet intelligebant, his remotis, non esse
;

mortem ipsam pertimescendam." 1 They, on the other hand,

* [De Bebxts Suis, Lib. IV. § xxiii.J guilt incurred by those who, by ex-
1
Cicero, Catilinaria, iv. posing to ridicule the fabulous mytho-
With these views it is not surprising logy which formed the popular creed
that some of the wisest of the heathen among their contemporaries, endangered
writers should have expressed them- the authority of those moral principles
selves so very strongly concerning the which were identified with it in the
222 PHILOSOrilY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

who have laboured to loosen the bands of society, have found

it necessary to begin with perverting or destroying the natural
sentiments of the mind with respect to a future retribution.
In ages where the religious principles of the multitude were
too firmly rivetted to be entirely eradicated, they have incul-
cated theological dogmas subversive of moral distinctions, as in
the case of the Antinomian teachers during our own civil wars.
In other and more recent instances they have avowedly at-
tempted to establish a system of Atheism. So true is the old
observation, that the extremes of superstition and of infidelity
unite in their tendency ; and so completely verified are now
the apprehensions which were expressed eighty years ago by
Bishop Butler, that the spirit of irreligiou, (which in his time
was beginning to grow fashionable among the higher ranks,)
might produce some time or other political disorders similar
to those which arose from religious fanaticism in the preceding
century. 1
A and discernment,
prediction by a later writer of genius
and one well acquainted with the principles and manners of
the world, is not unworthy of attention in the present times, in
which we have seen it very remarkably verified in numberless

vulgar belief. There is good reason The transition to these lines from the
for thinking that the secret comnuini- foregoing ones is certainly by no means
catcd to the initiated in the Eleusinian obvious.
mysteries was the unity of God * a ;

truth too sublime to be disclosed at once " Virtu8 recluden8 ""mentis mori
'

,, .
c , .... , ., , Caelum, ncgatA tentiit iter \u.
to the uninformed multitude, as '
it struck
i n.
.<. „ ,
Coetusque A _
vulgurea et. udnm ,

at the root of all those fables which Spernit bumum fugiente pcnnA,
were incorporated with their habits of Estet tideli," &c. Jt& fee.

thinking and feeling on the most im-

^^ M ^
portent subjects. On this supposition „
we have a satisfactory explanation of a
,
Ig (lm ^ r fl th ; 8

a01||ewhjlt ]iko th , , 0Vt 1K

.

noted passage in Horace, between which •*•.

,1 i u , 1
atheistical principles which,
:

, ; ,. spirit upon i

and the preceding lines it seems not ,1 1 m * ^^.u.

in the last age, prevailed upon entliu-
i
.

it first to trace any connexion. • ,•

'

v , • ,,
Siastic ones? Not , ,
tO speak of the pos-
Malt tuusileritio
t
sibility that different lortl of people
Mmtm. Veiabo. qui Ceiwls sacrum niav unito n j j( llpon ,} 10SC contrary
*
^ ulk'arit

Bit
areani\ tub im.lem
.. . ,,
trabibiM. fra^ilemquo m*eum
„..
principles?
'
•

'
,
— Srnion
i>
preachedi
'
i r t
b<

Nnl pba»cluiii *** House of Lords, Jaintary 30,

Cbrm, lib in. Oiieii. 1740.

• VTartvtOCfr VMm LfpaMm o/ Motet. [RjirtWli'my'i.] Voyatje du jtut)t AmicSanit.

 CHAP. V. — CONCLUSION. SPECIALLY OF OUR DUTIES TO GOD. 223

instances. " I shall say nothing at present of the lower ranks

of mankind. Though they have not yet got into the fashion of
laughing at religion, and treating it with scorn and contempt,
and I believe are too serious a set of creatures ever to come
into it, yet we are not to imagine but that the contempt it is

held in by those whose examples they are too apt to imitate,

will in time utterly shake their principles, and render them, if

not as profane, at least as corrupt as their betters. When this

event happens, and we begin to feel the effects of it in our
dealings with them, those who have done the mischief will
find the necessity at last of turning religious in their own
defence, want of a better principle) to set an ex-
and (for
ample of piety and good morals for their own interest and
convenience." 1
Nor is it merely in restraining men from grosser outrages
that a sense of religion operates as a compulsory law. With-
out a secret impression (of which it is impossible that the
human mind can divest itself) that there is at all times an in-
visible witness of our thoughts, it is probable that the virtue of
the best of men would Even amidst
often yield to temptation.
the darkness of the heathen world Xenophon had recourse to
this impression, to account for the inflexible integrity of So-
crates, when he sat as one of the judges in the celebrated trial

of the naval commanders. "

Having taken," says Xenophon,
" as was customary, the senatorial oath, by which he bound

himself to act in all things conformably to the laws, and arriv-

ing in his turn to be president of the assembly of the people,
he boldly refused to give his suffrage to the iniquitous sen-
tence which condemned the nine captains, being neither in-
timidated by the menaces of the great, nor the fury of the
people, but steadily preferring the sanctity of an oath to the
safety of his person. For he was persuaded the gods watched
over the affairs of men in a way altogether different from what
the vulgar imagined for while these limited their knowledge
;

to some particulars only, Socrates, on the contrary, extended it

to all, firmly persuaded that they are everywhere present, and

1
Sterne's S'rmons.
 224 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

that every word, every action, nay, even our most retired deli-
berations were open to their view/'*
In the [third and] last place, a sense of religion, where it is

sincere, will necessarily be attended with a complete resignation

of our own will to that of the Deity, as it teaches us to regard
every event, even the most afflicting, as calculated to promote
beneficent purposes, which we are unable to comprehend, and
to promote, finally, the perfection and happiness of our own
nature. This is the best, and indeed the only rational founda-
tion of fortitude. Nay, it may be safely affirmed, (as Socrates
long ago observed in the Phcedon of Plato, [§ xv. Wyttenbach ;

§ 36, Bekker, &c.]) that whoever founds his fortitude on any-

thing else is only valiant through fear. In other words, he
exposes himself to danger, merely from a regard to the opinion
of others, and of consequence wants that internal principle of
heroism which can alone arm the mind with patience under
those misfortunes which it is condemned to bear in solitude, or
under sorrows which prudence conceals from the public eye.
But to the man who believes that everything is ordered for the
best, and that his existence and happiness are in the hands of
a Being who watches over him with the care of a parent, the
difficulties and dangers of life only serve to call forth the latent

powers of the soul, by reminding him of the prize for which he

combats, and of that beneficent Providence by which the con-
flict was appointed.

" Safe in the hands of one disposing Power,

in the natal or the mortal hour. " -J-
1

Or

The view which I have given of Religion as forming the

first and chief branch of Moral Duty, and as contributing in its
turn most powerfully to promote the practice of every virtue,
is equally consonant to the spirit of the Sacred Writings, and
to the most obvious dictates of reason and conscience ; and
accordingly it is sanctioned by the authority of all those phi-
losophers of antiquity who devoted their talents to the im-
provement and happiness of mankind. " It should never be

* [Memorabilia, Lib. Lean. i. §§ 18, 19.]

f [Pope, Esnni/ on Man. Rp. i. 287.]
 ;

CHAP. V. —CONCLUSION. SPECIALLY OF OUR DUTIES TO GOD. 225

thought," says Plato in one of his Dialogues, " that there is

any branch of human virtue of greater importance than piety

towards the Deity/'* The chief article of the Unwritten Law
mentioned by Socrates 1 is, " that the gods ought to be wor-
shipped." — " This/' he says, " is acknowledged everywhere,
and received by all men as the first command." And to the
same purpose Cicero, in the first book of his Offices, places in
the first rank of duties those we owe to the Immortal Gods.
" In ipsa communitate sunt gradus oniciorum ex qui bus, quid
cuique praastet, intelligi possit ut prima Diis immortalibus
:

secunda patriae ; tertia parentibus ; deinceps gradatim reliquis

2
debeantur."
The elevation of mind which some of the mo6t illustrious
characters of antiquity derived from their religious principles,
however imperfect and erroneous, and the weight which these
principles gave them in their public and political capacity, are
remarked by many ancient writers-; and such, I apprehend,
will be always found to be the case when the personal import-
ance of the individual rests on the basis of public opinion.
tt
But he," says Plutarch, "
who was most conversant with
Pericles, and most contributed to give him a grandeur of mind,
and to make his high spirit for governing the popular assem-
blies more weighty and authoritative in a word, who exalted his ;

ideasand raised at the same time the dignity of his demeanour :

The person who did this was Anaxagoras the Clazomenian,

whom the people of that age reverenced as the first who made
Mind or Intellect (in opposition to Chance) a principle in the
formation and government of the universe." f
The extraordinary respect which the Romans, during their
period of greatest glory, entertained for religion, (false as their
own system was in its mythological foundations, and erroneous
in many of its practical tendencies,) has been often taken notice
of as one of the principal sources of their private and public

* [Epinomis, § 11.] t [In Pericle ; Opera, Tom. T. p. 154,

editiones Xylandri. Not literally tians-
1
Xenophon, Memor. Lib. IV. cap. iv. latcd : Plutarch says, that Anaxagoras
2
Cap. ult. wis caJkd Houf, &c]
VOL. VII. P
226 PHILOSOPHY OF THE Jk^ORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO GOD.

virtues. " The Spaniards," says Cicero, " exceed us in num-

bers ; the Gauls in the glory of war ; but we surpass all nations
in thatwisdom by which we have learned that all things are
governed and directed by the immortal gods." 1
In the later periods of their history, this reverence for reli-

gion, together with the other virtues which gave them the
empire of the world, was in a great measure lost ; and we con-
tinually find their oratorsand historians drawing a melancholy
contrast between the degeneracy of their manners and those of
their ancestors. In the account which Livy has given of the
consulate of Q. Cincinnatus, he mentions an attempt which the
tribunes made to persuade the people that they were not bound
by their military oath to follow the Consul to the field, because
they had taken that oath when he was a private man. But, how-
ever agreeable this doctrine might be to their inclinations, and
however strongly recommended to them by the sanction of their
own popular magistrates, we find that their reverence for the
religion of an oath led them to treat the doctrine as nothing
better than a cavil. Livy's reflection on this occasion is re-
markable :
" Nondum
nunc tenet seculum, negligen-
base, quae
tia Deum venerat nee interpretando sibi quisque jusjurandum
:

leges aptas faciebat, sed suos potius mores ad ea accommo-

dabat." 2
How completely the sense of religion was afterwards extin-
guished among
same people, and how intimately this change
the
in their character was connected with that political profligacy
which ended in the ruin of the commonwealth, may be col-
lected from many passages in the writings of Cicero. "Nun-
quam audivi in Epicuri Schola Lycurgum, Solonem, Miltiadem,
Themistoclem. Epaminondam, nominari ;
qui in ore sunt cete-
W8
rorum omnium philosophorum. In his own times, he tells
u
us, that the portrait of Epicurus was not only a common
article of furniture In their houses, but that it formed a common

1
"Bed pietate ione, atque Buperavinius." — Oratio De Hartupiovm
quod DeorUR) iniiwr-
u!i:i s.i j-iti.t ia, RespOMtS, Cap. ix.
talium nomine omnia regi gobernariqna -'
H't*t. Lib. III. cap. w.
|ier«pazitnua, •

\\\q * J), Fin, Lib. II. cap. xxi.

 ;

CHAP. V. —CONCLUSION. SPECIALLY OF OUR DUTTES TO GOD. 227

ornament to their rings and vases."

— " Nee
tamen Epicuri
licet oblivisci, si cupiam : cujus imaginem non modo in
tabulis nostri familiares, sed etiam in poculis et in annulis
1
habent."
A review of the political conduct of the distinguished men
who appeared at this period, and a comparison of the parts
which they acted with the philosophical principles they pro-
fessed, furnishes an instructive comment on these observations
and goes far to warrant the general inference, that wherever
the same pernicious philosophy extends its influence widely"
among the great body of a people, men are unfitted to enjoy
the blessings of rational freedom, and are prepared either to run
into the excesses of democratical anarchy, or (what is the na-
tural and inevitable consequences of such excesses) to submit
quietly to the yoke of a despotic master.
This last observation I shall have occasion to illustrate after-
wards, when I come to contrast the practical tendency of the
school of Epicurus with that of Zeno.

1
Ibid. Lib. V. cap. i.
 BOOK FOURTH.
[OFOUR DUTIES TO MEN; TO WIT, THOSE WHICH RESPECT
OUR FELLOW-CREATURES, AND THOSE WHICH RESPECT OUR-
SELVES.]

[PART I.] —OF THE DUTIES WHICH RESPECT OUR FELLOW-

CREATURES.

Under this title it is not proposed to give a complete enu-

meration of our social duties, but only to point out some of the
most important, chiefly with a view to show the imperfections
of those systems of morals which attempt to resolve the whole
of virtue into one particular principle. Among these, that
which resolves Virtue into Benevolence is undoubtedly the most
amiable ; but even this system will appear, from the following
remarks, to be not only inconsistent with truth, but to lead to
dangerous consequences.

CHAPTER I.

OF BENEVOLENCE.
Beneficence is so important a branch of virtue, that it has
i supposed by some moralists to constitute the whole of it.

ffding to these writers, good-will to mankind is the only

Mum objed of moral approbation and the obligation of
;

all our otlier moral duties arises entirely from their apprehended
leDCJ to promote the happiness of society.
Among the most eminent partisans of this system in modern
times, Mr. Smith mentions particularly Dr. Ralph Cudworth,
 PJLRT I— T OTHERS. CHJLP. I. 05 _

Dr. Henry More, and Mr. John Smith of Caml : g

all u he obserrca, "ancient or modern, I acis

Huteheson was undoubted moal
acute, the mc- rhe most philosophical, and, what
greatest consequence of all, the soberest and most judi [ ioofl

our of tkaaaystcm Mr. Smith acknowledges

are many appearances in human nat ieh at first si

seem strongly
Hutchison avails himself with much acuta - and pL
Is*. W: .: never in any a supposed 1

benevolent affect i . :.-. a :..-. ;ther moth isdi Benaa

./n is justs minished as this mo-
I to have influenced it. Ski, When those
on the contrary, which are commonly supposed to proceed from
l .ash inotr : seo vered to have arisen from a benevolent-
one, it generally enhances our 8f merit Lastly, it

I :_ . Hutcheson, that in all casuistic

erning the rectitude of conduct, the ultimate is uni-

formly made to utility. In the later d example, al

passive obedie: I the right of .ee, the sole point in

con: g men was, whether unr
misEa o old probably be attended with greater evils than tem-
porary insurre when privi. _ -
led. Whd
what, upon the I most to the happiness of mankind
was : i _ Doe made a ou
Since Benevolen - :he only motive which could
ii the cha: f virtue, the greater 1

benevolence which 1 the

iae which must belong to it.

In directing all our i promote the greatest | sai

good, — in submitting all interior affect". - the d— the

ral happily : mankind. — in regarding ooe's-self as but

one oi the many who* erity waa to be pursued do farther

than it • u —tent with, or conducive to that of the wh
- sted the |
irtue.

1
Theory of Moral Sentiment*, Part sixth edit- [In tbe older editions, I

VII -
-
VI so;: :i chap.
230 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN'.

Dr. Hutcheson held farther, that Self-love was a principle

which could never be virtuous in any degree or in any direction.

This maxim he carried so far as to assert, that even a regard

to the pleasure of self-approbation, to the comfortable applauses
of our own consciences, diminishes the merit of a benevolent
action.
u In the common judgments of mankind, however,"

says Mr. Smith, " this regard to the approbation of our own
minds is from being considered as what can, in any
so far
respect, diminish the virtue of any action, that it is rather looked
upon as the sole motive which deserves the appellation of
virtuous."*
Of the truth and correctness of these principles Dr. Hutche-
son was so fully convinced, that, in conformity to them, he has
offered some algebraical formulas for computing mathematically
the morality of actions. Of this very extraordinary attempt,
the following axioms, which he premises to his formulas, may
serve as a sufficient specimen.
1. The moral importance of any agent, or the quantity of
public good produced by him, is in a compound ratio of his
benevolence and abilities, or M (moment of good) =B x A.
2. In like manner, the moment of private good or interest
produced by any person to himself is in a compound ratio of
his self-loveand ability, or I S X A. =
3. When, in comparing the virtue of two agents, the abilities

are equal, the moment of public good produced by them in like

circumstances, is as the benevolence, or M=B x 1.

4. When benevolence in two agents is equal, and other cir-

cumstances alike, the moment of public good is as the abilities,

or M=A X 1.

5. The virtue, then, of agents, or their benevolence, is always

directly as the moment of good produced in like circumstances,
and inversely as their abilities, or B = ^.

As Dr. Hutcheson's example in the use of these formulas has

not been followed by any of his successors, it is unnecessary to
employ any arguments to expose the absurdity of this unsuc-

* [Theory of Moral Antimmtt, Part sixth edition. In the older editions,

ni Md li ohap .8, Vol. II. p. 203, Part VI. ted ii. chap. 3.]
 PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. I. —OF BENEVOLENCE. 231

cessful innovation in the usual language of Ethics. 1 It is of

more consequence to direct our attention to the substance of the
doctrine which it was the great object of the ingenious author
to establish.
And, in the first place, the necessary and obvious consequences
to which this account of virtue leads, seem to furnish a satisfac-
tory proof of its unsoundness. For if the merit of an action
depends on no other circumstance than the quantity of good
intended by the agent, then the rectitude of an action can in
no case be influenced by the mutual relations of the parties a ;

conclusion contradicted by the universal judgment of mankind

in favour of the paramount obligation of various other duties.
It is sufficient to mention the obligations of gratitude, of vera-
city,and of justice. 2 Unless we admit these duties to be imme-
diately obligatory, we must admit the maxim, that a good end
may sanctify any means necessary for its attainment or, in ;

other words, that it would be lawful for us to dispense with the

obligations of veracity and justice whenever, by doing so, we
had a prospect of promoting any of the essential interests of
society.

With respect to this maxim

would only ask, is it probable
I
a priori, that the Wise and Beneficent Author of the Universe
should have left the conduct of such a fallible and short-sighted
creature as man to be regulated by no other principle than the
private opinion of each individual with respect to the expedi-
ency of his actions ? Or, in other words, by the conjectures
which the individual might form on the good or evil resulting,
on the ivhole, from an endless train of future contingencies ?
Were this the case, the opinions of mankind concerning the
rules of morality would be as various as their judgments con-

1
[See An Inquiry into the Original This Essay may be found in the Phtfo-
of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue. sophical Transactions of the Royal
Treatise 1 I. sect. iii. p. 183, sen.; second Society of London for the year 1748,
edition, 1726.] — Dr. Hutcheson's at- [and in his Collected Works, p. 715,
tempt to introduce the language of sey.]
mathematics into morals gave occasion
to a valuable Essay on Proper and Im-
2
See Butler's Essay on the Nature
proper Quantity, by the late Dr. Reid. of Virtue, at the end of his Analogy.
232 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

cerning the probable issue of the most doubtful and difficult

determination in politics. Numberless cases might be fancied
in which a person would not only claim merit to himself, but
actually possess it, in consequence of actions which are generally
regarded with indignation and abhorrence. Even men of the
soundest judgment and most penetrating sagacity might fre-
quently be led to the perpetration of enormities, if they had no
other standard of right and wrong but what they derived from
their own uncertain anticipations of futurity. And when we
consider how small the number of such men is, in comparison
of those whose understandings are perverted by the prejudices
of education, and by their own selfish passions, it is easy to see

what a scene of anarchy the world would become. Surely if

the Deity intended the happiness of his creatures, he would not

build the order (I may say the existence) of society on so pre-
carious a foundation. And here it deserves particularly to be
mentioned, that one of the arguments commonly produced in
support of the scheme is drawn from the benevolence of God.
Benevolence, we are told, induced the Deity to call the universe
into existence, and benevolence is the great law of his govern-
ment and as virtue in man must consist in conformity to the
:

will of God, in imitating his moral perfections to the utmost of

our power, it is concluded that virtue and benevolence are the
same. But the premises here lead to a conclusion directly op-
posite ; for if the happiness of mankind be the great end for
which they are brought into being, it is presumable that the
rules of their conduct are of such a nature as to be obvious to
the capacities of all men of sincere and well-disposed minds.
ordiogly we find, (and the fact is in a peculiar degree
worthy of attention,) that, while the theory of Ethics involves
BOme of the most abstruse questions which have ever employed
the human faculties, the moral judgments and moral feelings
of the most distant ages and nations, with respect to all the
scntial duties of life, are one and the same. 1
The reasonableness of the foregoing conclusion will be mueh
•'Si tjiiiil rcctwimam ul qtueri ezpediat, obscurant." — Cicero, Ejri$t.
perepk-anm e»t. Si quid maximd ad Fam. IV ii.
 PART I. — TO OTHEBa CHAP. I. — OF BENEVOLENCE. 233

confirmed we consider how much the happiness oi mankind

if

i> often left to depend on the will of one or of a few individuals.

The best men in such circumstances, when invested with ab-

solute power, might be rendered curses to the world by san-
guine plans of beneficence and the ambitious and designing
;

would be supplied with specious pretences to justify the n

cruel and tyrannical mc In truth, it is this very pica
of benevolent intention which has been employed to
rather to sanctify, the conduct of the greatest bo argi - of the
human race. It is this very plea which in former times lighted
up the fires of the Inquisition : and which in our own age has
furnished a pretence for outrages against all the principles of
justice and all the feelings of humanity.
These arguments are urged with great ingenuity, and with
irresistible force oi reasoning, by Mr. Gisborne. in his remarks
on Dr. Paley's scheme of moral
It may perhaps be urged that a regard to Utility would 1.

to an t adherence to the rules of v . gratitude,

and justice because in this way more good is produced o]i the
;

whole than could be obtained by any occasional deviations from

them that it is this idea of utility which first leads us to
;

approve oi these virtues ;

and that afterwards habit, or the
association of ideas,makes us observe their rules without think-
ing oi consequence*. But is not this to adopt that mode of
reasoning which Hutcheson censures so severely in the selfish
philosophers P* According to them we labour to promote I

public prosperity. se we believe our own to be intimately

connected with it. They acknowledge, at the same time, that

we often make a real sacrifice of private to public advantage,
and that we often exert ourselves in the public service without
once thinking of our own interest. But all this they explain
by habits and - ktions, which operate in this as they

do in the case of the miser, who. although his attachment to

* [See Inqui y, kc. T n ma on the Moral Sum;—Ida Latin

Good and Evil, T- ' «& I
S ?. i. ii :— Ja An Etnaif on the mJJtniio eompeudiaria ; and hit

Anttbni and .'. mem Snwtem*

23 1 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

money was originally founded on the consideration o( its uses,

yet continues to accumulate wealth without once thinkin

the ends to which it is subservient, and indeed long after he is

able to enjoy those comforts which it can purchase.

Now the fallaciousness o( this mode of reasoning has been
pointed (Hit by Dr, lluteheson with great elearness and foree ;

and the arguments he employs against it may with great justice

be turned against himself. In general the safest rule we can
follow in our inquiries concerning the principles of human eon-
duet, is to acquiesce, in the first instance, in the plain and
obvious appearance o( facts; and if these conclusions are in-
accurate, to correct them gradually in proportion as a more
attentive examination of our subject discovers to us the preju-
diceswhich education and accidental associations have blended
with the truth. It is at least a presumption in favour o( any

system concerning the mind, that it falls iti with the natural
apprehensions of mankind in all countries and ages; and I —
believe it will commonly be found that these are the systems
which, in the progress o( human reason, are justified by the
most profound and enlightened philosophy. I state this obser-
vation with the greater confidence, as it coincides with the
following admirable remark oi Mr. Hume, — an author who had
certainly no interest in inculcating such a doctrine, as he seems
to have paid very little attention to it in the course of his own
speculations
The ease is not the same Moral Philosophy as in Physic*
in

Many an hypothesis in nature, contrary to first appearam s,

has been found, on more accurate scrutiny, solid and satisfae-
Instances o( this kind are so frequent that a judicious
as well as witty philosopher, (Fontenelle,) has ventured to
affirm, if there bo more than one way which a phenome-
in
non may be produced, that there is a general presumption for
its arising from the causes which are the least obvious and
familiar. But the presumption always lies on the other side
in all inquiries concerning the origin of our pas-ions, and of the
internal op. rations of the human mind. The simplest and most
obvious cause which can there be assigned for any pheenome-
 PART I. TO OTHERS. CHAP. I. — OF BENEVOLENCE. 235

non is probably the true one. When a philosopher, in the

explication of bis system, is obliged to have recourse to some
very intricate and refined reflections, and to suppose them
essential to the production of any passion or emotion, we have
reason to be extremely on our guard against so fallacious an
hypothesis. The affections are not susceptible of any impres-
sion from the refinements of reason or imagination and it is ;

always found that a vigorous exertion of the latter faculty

necessarily, from the limited capacity of the human mind,
destroys all activity in the former. Our predominant motive
or intention is, indeed, frequently concealed from ourselves,
when mingled and confounded with other motives, which
it is

the mind, from vanity and self-conceit, is desirous of supposing

more prevalent; but no instance that a concealment of
there is

this nature has ever arisen from the abstruseness and intricacy
of the motive. A man that has lost a friend and patron may
flatter himself that all his grief arises from generous sentiments,
without any mixture of narrow or interested considerations ;

but a man that grieves for a valuable friend who needed his

patronage and protection, how can we suppose that his pas-

sionate tenderness arises from some metaphysical regards to a
which has no foundation or reality ? We may as
self-interest
well imagine that minute wheels and springs, like those of a
watch, give motion to a loaded waggon, as account for the
origin of passion from such abstruse reflections."*
In this passage Mr. Hume has censured very justly the
theories which resolve the whole of human conduct into Self-
love, and apprehend that the same censure may be extended
I

to that more amiable system which suppose* our approba-

tion of justice and veracity, and all our other duties, to arise
from their apprehended tendency to promote the Happiness of
Society.
But although it is not any views of Utility which originally
lead us to approve of veracity and justice, yet it must be ac-
knowledged, that, when a philosopher has once satisfied him-
*\ Essays, Vol. FT., Inquiry concerning the Principles of Mbrali ; Appendix ii.

Of Self-Love.]
236 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN".

self with respect to their real tendency, this consideration

strengthens very much his sense of their obligation. And he
may sometimes rind it necessary to call this consideration to
his aid when he is in danger of departing from general rules ;

as in the case of a Judge who is in danger of yielding to the

impulse of compassion, till he opposes to it another benevolent
affection of a more extensive nature, by reflecting on the
ex^diency of adhering to the general rules of justice.
That the practice of veracity and justice, and of all our
other duties, is useful to mankind, is acknowledged by moralists
of all descriptions and there is good reason for believing, that,
;

if a person saw all the consequences of his actions, he would

perceive that an adherence to their rules is useful and advan-

tageous on the whole, even in those cac es in which his limited
views incline him to think otherwise. The same observation
may be applied -interest, that the most effectual way
I

of promoting it is to observe religiously the obligations of

morality and these are both very striking instances of that
;

unity of design which is conspicuous both in the moral and

natural world. This makes it an easy matter for a philosopher
to give a plausible explanation of all our duties from one
principle, because the general tendency of all of them is to de-
termine us to the same course of life. That benevolence may
he sole principle of action in the Deity is possible, (although
when we affirm that . we go beyond our depth ;) but the
is obviously very different with mankind If the hypo-
vith respect to tl. n
must suppose that
njuined the duties of veracity and justice, not on accoui.
their intrinsic rectitude, but of their utility. But .^till with
respect to man r he has an im-

meii i of tl. And indeed if he had

but l ;ide from I

quences which they have a tendency to product may

lilirm thai l*? enoi. virtue left
•
in [ society tog
y Mr. Smith in a passa_ :oted,*

• [P. 10."> wtare farther reference* »r-

 .

PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. I. OF BENEVOLENCE. 237

and which cannot be too frequently recalled to the reac;

attention, that although, in accounting for the operations of
Bodies, we never fail to distinguish the Efficient from the Final
Cause, in accounting for those of the Mind we are very apt to
confound these two different things with one another. W
by natural principles we are led to advance those ends which a
rerlned and enlightened reason would recommend to U, we are
very apt to im i that reason, as to their efficient a.
the sentiments andwhich we advance those ends,
acti
and to imagine that to be the wisdom of man which in res
is the wiadom of God. Upon a superficial new this a
ni to produce : which i it.

and the system of human nature seems to be more simple and

eable when all its ^nt operations are in this ma:.
bleed from -..._

The naiMuka which I have now made wit".

Hu" by are applies _ ~ altera-

ble variety of Moral B .ave

agree with each other in derivir rical rules :ot»

con. m considera:. Utility these syst
are but modihea* Id doctrine which resolves the
wd ok
..is the .-
: if a very ancient da*
which in mw much c

been revived more r Mr.

Godwin, and bv ite Dr. Palev
yxree whence they d
:. and the sanctions by wL: .nee.

they are perfect!} _ I about its paramount author/

ry othe: rpedient*
right. It . rule alone
*
" - - But 1

must be exp-f ?n the ichole, at ng run, in al.

ral and iea is those which are imme-

PriAdfia of Moral ami Political .PUnnj h 5ti»

238 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

diate and direct, computing conse-

as it is obvious that, in
quences, it makes no difference in what way or at what distance
they ensue." 1 Mr. Godwin has nowhere expressed himself on
this fundamental question of practical ethics in terms more
decided and unqualified.
The observations quoted from Mr. Smith on the pronenesa of
the mind, in moral speculations, to confound together Efficient
and Final Causes, furnish a key to the chief difficulty by which
the patrons of this specious but very dangerous system have
been misled.
Of this theory of utility, so strongly recommended to some
by the powerful talents of Hume, and to others by the well-
merited popularity of Faley, the most satisfactory of all refuta-

tions is to be found in the work of Mr. Godwin. It is unneces-

sary to inquire how far the practical lessons he has inculcated
are logically inferred from his fundamental principle ; for
although I apprehend much might be objected to these, even
on his own hypothesis, yet if such be the conclusions to which,
in the judgment of so acute a reasoner, it appeared to lead
with demonstrative evidence, nothing further is requisite to
illustrate the practical tendency of a system, which, absolving
men from command-
the obligations imposed on them with so
ing an authority by the moral constitution of human nature,
abandons every individual to the guidance of his own narrow
views concerning the complicated interests of political society. '-

1
Ibid. p. 73. [Book IT. chap. viii.J may possibly arise, in which the general
In mother part of this work Dr. tendency outweighed by the enormity
ia
Paley explicitly asserts, that of the particular mischief; and of course
moral rule is liable to be supera ded in where ultimate utility renders it as
particular cases on the ground of eXM> much an act of duty to break the rule,
'
I d philosophy cannot pro as it is on other occasions to observe
•
tb.it any rub' of molality is so it "_Vol II. p. 411. [Book VI. chap.
; nor, xii.]
on Um other band, can the comprise is remarkable that Mr. Hume, by
,
HI 1 ithin any previous far the alv ,te for the theorj in
thai the n, has indirectly acknow] ;

ry Uw »l> pendi upon its its inconsistency icith some ofth<

. tb.it this utility having import w bich it prof!
a Suite and detenninati situa- plain. "Though the }n,ir>," be ob-
•lently •li set tion of b
 .

PART L — TO OTHERS. CHAP. I. — OK UKNKVOI.E: OK. 239

Among the practical consequences irhicb Dr. Paky deduce!

from the Bame principle, there arc inch to my mind arc
not less revolting than those of Mr. Godwin. Such, for exam-
ple, is the argument by which be controverts the recei

maxim of criminal jurisprudence, that ft ii better for ten guilty

persons to escape than for one innoceni man to suffer. B ii

this subject J need not enlarge. The sophistry, and I an

dd. the reckless inhunjanity displayed in this pari of Paley's
been triumphantly expo ed by thfl t and g
rnar. mad Rornilly ; — a man whom, long before his talents
and worth were known to the public, I admired and loved.
memory i ihall cease to revere*1
Prom thi f it can he called a digression) with
reaped, to the modem doctrine of Utility. I return to br. JJut-
lebeme of lence, by wbicb the theory of Mr. I

Hume was plainly suggested, and to which all the more modern
ifications of the same principle may be traced, indeed, the
oryof Utility n tacitly take fbr granted the icheme of

Bern in order to r.

7 Moral* CrUV
Uth\j with ihoae general notions, nor
regulate* all its lore and hatred bj

and rirtue, *
V •'; ;,'•' v. •;. v. ;
•
;;. •. r
;
;,-f :
;;.-. -. : .
-

' -

-;>. •.<;.••• rif/rdy %tX

.. , ..... . t
;

h f.

c
r_
._..
y
...... . . . ,
r
. . .

it , ,.,.,...
:.. \ -. y .. ::.. /('*. v. t- '.
y
fjrd',

_;
• •

r - ">- '-.. ;
•• : : '
v< r

.••:•>.• -
.r •. > '
: <
'' V ;..
240 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MOllAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

whence the obligation to consult general utility, but from the

peculiar approbation with which the duty of benevolence is

regarded ?

To the strictures already offered on Hutcheson's writings, I

have only to add, that he seems to consider Virtue as a quality
of our Affections whereas it is really a quality of our Actions ;
,

or (perhaps in strict propriety) of those Dispositions from which

our actions immediately proceed Our benevolent affections

are always amiable, but, in so far as they are constitutional,

they are certainly in no respect meritorious. Indeed, some of
them are common to us with the brutes. When they are pos-
sessed in an eminent degree, we may perhaps consider them as
a ground of moral esteem, because they indicate the pains which
has been bestowed on their cultivation, and a course of active
virtue inwhich they have been exercised and strengthened. On
the contrary, a person who wants them is always an object of
horror ; chiefly because we know they are only to be eradicated
by long habits of profligacy, and partly in consequence of the
uneasiness we feel when we see the ordinary course of nature
violated, as in a monstrous animal production. It is from these
two facts that the plausibility of Dr. Hutcheson's language on
this subject in a great measure arises ; but if the facts be accu-
rately examined, they will be found perfectly consistent with
the doctrine already laid down, that nothing is an object of

moral praise or blame but what depends on our own voluntary

exertions and of consequence, that these terms are not appli-
;

cable to our benevolent or malevolent affections, so far as we

suppose them to result necessarily from our constitutional
frame.
There is another consideration, too, which, on a superficial
view, appears favourable both and
to Hutcheson's language
system,— tin- and enthusiastic admiration with which
peculiar
all mankind regard a man of enlightened and active benevo-

lence. Such a character draws upon itself not merely the

applauses^ but the blessings of the world, and assimilates human
Datura to what we conceive of those ministering angels who are
the immediate instruments of the Divine goodness and mercy.
 PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. I. — OF BENEVOLENCE. 241

In order to think with accuracy on this very important point

of morals, it is necessary to distinguish those benevolent affec-
tions which urge us to their respective objects by a blind
impulse, from that rational and enlightened benevolence which
interests us in the happiness of all mankind, and, indeed, of all
the orders of sensitive being. This Divine principle of action
appears but. little in the bulk of our species ; for although the
seeds of itsown in every breast, it requires long and careful
are
cultivation to rear them to maturity, choked as they are by envy,
by jealousy, by selfishness, and by those contracted views which
originate in unenlightened schemes of human policy. Clear
away these noxious weeds, and the genuine benevolence of the
human heart will appear in all its beauty. No wonder, then,
that we should regard, with such peculiar sentiments of venera-
tion, the character of one whom we consider as the sincere and
unwearied friend of humanity ; for such a character implies the
existence of all the other virtues, more particularly of candid
and just and implies,
dispositions towards our fellow-creatures,
moreover, a long course of persevering exertion in combating
prejudice, and in eradicating narrow and malignant passions.
The gratitude, besides, which all men must feel towards one in
whose benevolent wishes they know themselves to be compre-
hended, contributes to enliven the former sentiment of moral
esteem ; and both together throw so peculiar a lustre on this
branch of duty, as goes far to account for the origin of those
systems which represent it as the only direct object of moral
approbation.
But what I am chiefly anxious to infer at present from these
remarks is, that there is nothing in this approbation of a rational
and enlightened benevolence which at all invalidates the doc-
trine, that virtue, in all its branches, supposes a course of
voluntary exertion under the guidance of a sense of duty.
It may be worth while to add, before leaving the subject,
that when a rational and habitual benevolence forms part of a
character, it will render the conduct perfectly uniform, and will
exclude the possibility of those inconsistencies that are fre-

quently observable in individuals who give themselves up to the

VOL. VII. Q
 —

242 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

guidance of particular affections, either private or public. How

often, for example, do we meet with individuals who have great
pretensions to public spirit, and even to humanity, on important
occasions, who affect an habitual rudeness in the common inter-
course of society ! The public spirit of such men cannot possibly
arise from genuine benevolence, otherwise the same principle
of action would extend to every different part of the conduct by
which the comfort of other men is affected and in the case of
;

most individuals, the addition they are able to make to human

happiness, by the constant exercise of courtesy and gentleness
to all who are within the. sphere of their influence, is of far
greater amount than all that can result from the more splendid
and heroic exertions of their beneficence. A similar remark
may be applied to such as are possessed of strong private attach-
ments and of humanity to objects in distress, while they have
no idea of public spirit and also to those who lay claim to a
;

more than common portion of patriotic zeal, while they avow a

contempt for the general interests of humanity. In truth, all
those offices, whether apparently trifling or important, which
contribute to augment the happiness of our fellow-creatures,
civility, gentleness, kindness, humanity, patriotism, universal
benevolence, — are only diversified expressions of the same dis-
position, according to the circumstances in which it operates,
and the relation which the agent bears to others.
 CHAPTER II.

OF JUSTICE.

The word Justice, in its most extensive signification, de-

notes that disposition which leads us, in cases where our own
temper, or passions, or interest, are concerned, to determine
and to act without being biassed by partial considerations.
I had occasion formerly to observe, that a desire of our own
happiness is inseparable from our nature as sensitive and
rational beings ; or, in other words, that it is impossible to
conceive a being capable of forming the ideas of happiness and
misery, to whom the one shall not be an object of desire and
the other of aversion. On the other hand, it is no less evident

that this desire is a principle belonging to such beings exclu-

sively inasmuch as the very idea of happiness, or of what is
;

good for man on the whole, presupposes the exercise of reason

in the mind which is able to perform it and as it is only a
;

being possessed of the power of self-government which can

pursue steadily this abstract conception, in opposition to the
solicitations of present appetite and passion. This rational
self-love (or in other words, this regard to what is good for us
on the whole) is analogous, in some important respects, to that
calm benevolence which has been already illustrated. They are
both character istical endowments of a rational nature, and they
both exert an influence over the conduct in proportion as reason
gains an ascendant over prejudice and error, and over those
appetites which are common to us and to the brutes.
The inferior principles of action in our nature have all a
manifest reference to one or other of these rational principles ;

for, although they operate without any reflection on our part,

244 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

they all lead to ends beneficial to the individual or to society.

Of this kind are hunger, thirst, the desire of knowledge, the
desire of esteem, pity to the distressed, natural affection, and a
variety of others. Upon the whole, these two great principles
of action, Self-love and Benevolence, coincide wonderfully in
recommending one and the same course of conduct ; and we
have great reason to believe, that, if we were acquainted with
all the remote consequences of our actions, they would be found
to coincide entirely. There are, however, cases in which there
seems to be an interference between them ; and in such cases
the generality of mankind are apt to be influenced more than
they ought to be by self-love and the principles which are sub-
sidiary to it. These sometimes lead them to act in direct
opposition to their sense of duty but much more frequently;

they influence the conduct by suggesting to the judgment par-

tial and erroneous views of circumstances and by persuading ;

men that the line of their duty coincides with that which is

prescribed by interest and inclination. Of all this every man

capable of reflection must soon be convinced from experience,
and he will study to correct his judgment in cases in which he
himself is —
by recollecting the judgments he has
a party, either
formerly passed in similar circumstances on the conduct of
others, or by stating cases to himself in which his own interest
and predilections are perfectly left out of the question. Now,
I use the word justice to express that disposition of mind which
leads a man, where his own interest or passions are concerned,
to determine and to act according to those judgments which he
would have formed of the conduct of another placed in a similar
situation.
But although I believe that expedients of this sort are neces-
sary to the best of men for correcting their moral judgments in
cases in which they themselves are parties, it will not therefore
follow, (as I have already observed, 1 ) that our only ideas of
Right and Wrong with respect to our own conduct are derived
from our sentiments with respect to the conduct of others.
1
Vol. I. pp. 881, 332. These paragraphs arc transcribed here for the sake of
conne don.
 PART I. —TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE. 245

" The intention of such expedients is merely to obtain a just

and fair view of circumstances ; and after this view has been
obtained, the question still remains, what constitutes the obli-
gation upon us to act in a particular manner ? It may be said,
that, from recollecting my own judgments in similar cases in
which I was concerned, I infer in what light my conduct will
appear to society ;
—
that there is an exquisite pleasure annexed
to mutual sympathy, and that in order to obtain it, in order
that other men may go along with my conduct, I accommodate
it not to my own feelings, but to their judgment. Now I ac-
knowledge that this may account for a man's assuming the
appearance of virtue, and I believe that something of this sort
is the real foundation of the rules of good breeding in polished

society ; but in the important concerns of life I apprehend

there is something more for when I have once satisfied my-
;

self with respect to the conduct which an impartial judge

would approve of, I feel that this conduct is right for me, and
that I am under a moral obligation to put it in practice. If I
had had recourse to no expedient for correcting my first judgr
ment, I would still have formed some judgment or other
of a particular conduct, as right, wrong, or indifferent, and
the only difference would have been, that I should probably
have decided improperly from a false or a partial view of the
case.
" From these observations I conclude, that the words right,
wrong, ought, and ought not, express simple ideas, of which no
explanation can be given. They are to be found in all lan-
guages, and it is impossible to carry on any moral speculation
without them. —Even those authors who have rejected the sup-
position of a Moral Faculty, and who attempt to account for
all our moral sentiments by certain modifications of Sympathy,
find it impossible to avoid the use of these words. Thus when
it isacknowledged that the propriety of action cannot be deter-
mined in all cases by the actual judgment of society, and that
in such cases we must act according to the judgments which
they ought to have formed, is not this to own that we have a
standard of right and wrong in our own minds, to which we
246 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

find it of more consequence to adjust our conduct than to obtain

the sympathy of other men ?"

I must however remark, in order to prevent misapprehen-

sions, that, if any person objects to the expressions moral sense
or moral faculty, I do not take upon me to defend their pro-
priety. I use them because they are commonly employed by
ethical writers of late, and because I do not think them liable
to misinterpretation after the explanation of them I formerly
'gave. I certainly do not consider them as expressing an im-
planted relish for certain qualities of actions analogous to our
relish for certain tastes and smells. All I contend for is, that
the words right and wrong, ought and ought not, express simple
ideas ; that our perception of these qualities in certain actions
is an ultimate fact of our nature ; and that this perception
always implies the idea of moral obligation. When I speak
of a Moral Sense or a Moral Faculty, I mean merely to express
the power we have of forming these ideas ; but I do not sup-
pose that this bears any more analogy to our external Senses
than the power we have of forming the simple ideas of number,
of time, or of causation, which all arise in the mind, we cannot
tellhow, when certain objects or certain events are perceived
by the understanding. If those ideas were as important as
those of right and wrong, or had been as much under the
review of philosophers, we might perhaps have had a sense of
Time, a sense of Number, and a sense of Causation. And, in
fact, something very like this language occurs in the writings of

Lord Kames.
by Mr. Smith, as an argument against the ex-
It is observed
istence of a Moral Sense or Moral Faculty, that these words are
of very recent origin, and that it must appear very strange that
a principle, which Providence undoubtedly intended to be the
governing one of human nature, should hitherto have been so
little taken notice of as not to have got a name in any language.
If this observation is two expressions, I
levelled merely at these
have already said that I do not mean to defend them but if it ;

is to be understood as implying that the words right and wrong,

ought and ought not, do not express simple ideas, I must take
 —

PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE. 247

the liberty of remarking, in opposition to it, that, although the

words Moral Sense and Moral Faculty are of late origin, this is
by no means the case with the word conscience. It is indeed
said that this word {conscience) " does not immediately denote
any Moral Faculty by which we approve or disapprove that ; —
it supposes indeed the existence of some such faculty, but that
it properly signifies our consciousness of having acted agreeably
1
or contrary to its directions/' But the truth I take to be this,

that the word Conscience coincides exactly with the Moral

Faculty, with this difference only, that the former refers to our
own conduct alone, whereas the latter is meant to express also
the power by which we approve or disapprove of the conduct of
others. Now if this be granted, and if it be allowed that the
former word is to be found in all languages, and that the latter
is only a modern invention ; is it not a natural inference, that
our judgments, with respect to our own conduct, are not merely
applications to ourselves of those we have previously formed
2
with respect to the conduct of our fellow-creatures ?

I have taken this opportunity of making a few additional re-

marks on Mr. Smith's theory, because it is the virtue of Justice
which furnishes the most plausible illustrations in support of
it. But although I do not think it accounts for the origin of
our ideas of Eight and Wrong, and of Moral Obligation, I
acknowledge that it throws much light on the means which
nature has suggested to us for correcting our moral judgments,
and has led to the observation of some very important facts
with respect to a part of our constitution which had formerly
almost entirely escaped the notice of philosophers. — I now pro-
ceed to some observations of a more practical nature, which the
consideration of Justice suggests.

1
Smith's Tlieory of Moral Senti- ceptor, Dr. Hutcbcson, according to

merits, Vol. II. p. 354, seq. Sixth whom the words ought and obligation
Edition. [Part VII. sect. iii. chap. 3. are too confused to be admitted into
In the older editions, Part VI. 6ect. iii. philosophical discussions. "As to that

chap. 3.] confused word {ought) it is needless to

2
Mr. Smith (as I formerly hinted) apply to it again all that was said about

was probably led at first into this train obligation. " Illustrations of the Moral
of thinking by his predecessor and pre- S.nse, end of Sect. i.
248 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

It would be endless to attempt to point out all the various

forms in which the disposition formerly defined will display
itself in life. I must content myself with mentioning one or
two of its more remarkable effects, merely as examples of the
influence it is likely to have on the conduct. One of the most
important of these is that temper of mind we express by the
word candour, which prevents our judgments, with respect to
other men, from being improperly biassed by our passions and
prejudices. This, although at bottom the disposition is the
same, may be considered in three lights : 1st, As it is displayed
in appreciating the talents of others. 2d, In judging of their
intentions. 3c?,In controversy.
1st, There is no principle more deeply implanted in the

mind than the love of fame and of distinction and there is ;

none which, when properly regulated, is subservient to more

valuable purposes. It is, at the same time, a principle which
it is perhaps as difficult to restrain within the bounds of

moderation as any other. In some ungoverned minds it seems

to get the better of every other principle of action, and must be
a source to the possessor of perpetual mortification and disgust,
by leading him to aspire at eminence in every different line of
ambition, and to repine if in any one of them he is surpassed
by others. In the midst of the astouishing projects which em-
ployed the sublime genius of Richelieu, his peace of mind was
completely ruined by the success of the Cid of Corneille. The
first appearance of this tragedy (according to Fontenelle)
alarmed the Cardinal as much as if he had seen the Spaniards
at the gates of Paris and the most acceptable flattery which
;

his minions could offer, was to advise him to eclipse the fame
of Corneille by a tragedy of his own. Nor did he aim merely
at adding the fame of a poet to that of a statesman. Mortified
to think that any one path of ambition was shut against him,
he is said, when on his deathbed, to have held some conversa-
tions with his confessor about the possibility of his being
canonized as a saint. In order to restrain this violent and in-
satiable desire within certain bounds, there are many checks
appointed in our constitution. In the first place, it can be
PART I.— TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS CANDOUR.) 249

completely gratified only by the actual possession of those quali-

ties forwhich we wish to be esteemed, and of those advantages
which are the proper grounds of distinction. A good man is
never more mortified than when he is praised for qualities he
does not possess, or for advantages in which he is conscious he
has no merit. Secondly, although the gratification of this prin-
ciple consists in a certain superiority over other men, we feel
that we are not entitled to take undue advantages of them.
We may exert ourselves to the utmost in the race of glory, but
we are not entitled to obstruct the progress of others, or to de-
tract from their reputation in order to advance our own. All
this will be readily granted in general and yet in practice
;

there is more difficult

surely nothing than to draw the line be-
tween Emulation and Envy; or to check that self-partiality
which, while it leads us to dwell on our own advantages, and
to magnify them in our own estimation, prevents us either from
attending sufficiently to the merits of others, or from viewing
them in the most favourable light. Of this difficulty a wise
and good man will soon be satisfied from his own experience,
and he will endeavour to guard against it as far as he is able,
by judging of the merits of a rival, or even of an enemy, as he
would have done if there had been no interference between
them. He will endeavour, in short, to do justice to their
merits, not merely in words but in sincerity, and bring himself,
if possible, to love and to honour that genius and ability which
have eclipsed his own. Nor will he retire in disgust from the
race because he has been outstripped by others, but will re-
double all his exertions in the service of mankind recollecting, ;

that if nature has been more partial to others in her intellec-

tual gifts than to him, she has left open to all the theatre of
virtue, where the merits of individuals are determined, not by
their actual attainments, but by the use and improvement they
make of those advantages which their situation has afforded
them. In the meantime, he will suffer no permanent morti-
fication from the disappointment of his ambition but from his ;

exertions to suppress every emotion of envy, and to conquer the

mean partialities of vanity and self-love, he will derive a satis-
250 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

faction with himself, and a sense of his own elevation, of a still

more flattering kind than all the splendour of ability can

bestow. Imust not omit to add, that the love of fame and of
distinction, where it is strong, is commonly united with a cer-
tain degree of genius, and is seldom to be found in men wholly
destitute of it. While those, therefore, that are under the in-
fluence of this passion see a few raised above them, let them
recollect their own superiority to the multitude, and study to
make the only return in their power for this partiality of
nature, by devoting their talents, such as they are, to diffuse in
the world truth, virtue, and happiness.
2d, Candour in judging of the intentions of others. I before
mentioned several considerations which render it highly pro-
bable that there is much less vice or criminal intention in the

world, than commonly imagined and that the greater part

is ;

of the disputes among mankind arise from mutual mistake and

misapprehension. Every man must recollect many instances
in which his motives have been grossly misapprehended by the
world and it is but reasonable for him to conclude that the
;

case may have been the same with other men. It is but an
instance, then, of that justice we owe to others, to make the
most candid allowances for their apparent deviations, and to
give every action the most favourable construction it can pos-
sibly admit of. Such a temper, while it renders a man respect-
able and amiable in society, contributes perhaps more than any
other circumstance to his private happiness. " When you
u
would cheer your heart," says Marcus Antoninus, consider the
excellencies and abilities of your several acquaintance the ;

activity of one, the high sense of honour and modesty of

another, the liberality of a third, and in other persons some
other virtue. There is nothing so delightful as Virtue appear-
ing in the conduct of your contemporaries as frequently as
possible. Such thoughts we should still retain with us/' 1
3d, Candour in controversy implies a strong sense of justice
—
united to a disinterested love of truth, two qualities which are
so nearly allied that they can scarcely be supposed to exist
1
Dc Rebu* Suh, Rook VI. I xlviii.
PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS CANDOUR.) 251

separately. The latter guards the mind against error in its

solitary speculations, the former imposes an additional check

when the irritation of dispute disturbs the cool exercise of the
understanding. Where they are thus displayed in their joint
effect, they evince the purity of that moral rectitude in which
the essence of both consists ; but so rarely is this combination
exhibited in human life, even in the character of those who
maintain the fairest reputation for justice and for veracity, as
to warrant the conclusion, that these virtues (so effectually
secured to a certain extent by compulsory law or by public
opinion) are, in a moral point of view, of fully as difficult
attainment as any of the others.
I formerly observed, that the love of truth is natural to the
mind, independently of all views of utility, and that a strong
curiosity properly directed is one of the chief constituents of
genius. Without this stimulus and guide in our inquiries, in-
genuity and industry only serve to lead us the farther astray
from our object And it is much to be regretted that there are
:

so few cases in which these different qualities are all found

united in the same person. Various circumstances indeed
oppose themselves to this happy but rare combination in par- ;

ticular, the affectation of singularity an impatience in the ;

study of particulars arising from an anxiety to grasp prema-

turely at general principles and that aversion which the timid
;

and the indolent feel abandon their habitual opinions.

to
But perhaps there is no temper which so completely disqua-

lifies us for the search of truth, as that which we experience

when provoked by controversy or dispute. Some men undoubt-

edly are more misled by it than others but I apprehend there;

is no one, however modest and unassuming, who will not own

that,upon such occasions, he has almost always felt his judg-
ment warped, and a desire of victory mingle itself, in spite of
all his efforts, with his love of truth. Hence the aversion
which all such men feel for controversy convinced from ex- ;

perience how likely it would be to betray themselves into error,

and unwilling to afford an opportunity for displaying the en-
vious and malignant passions of others. This amiable disposi-
252 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

tion has been often mentioned by the friends of Sir Isaac

Newton as one of the most marked features in his character ;
and we are even told that it led him to suppress, for a course
of years, some of his most important discoveries, which he knew,
from their nature, were likely to provoke opposition. " He was
indeed," says one of his biographers, " of so meek and gentle a
disposition, and so great a lover of peace, that he would have
rather chosen to remain in obscurity, than to have the calm of
life ruffled by those storms and disputes which genius and learn-

ing always draw upon those who are most eminent for them.
" From his love of peace arose, no doubt, that unusual kind
of horror which he felt for all disputes. Steady unbroken
attention, free from those frequent recoilings incident to others,
was his peculiar felicity. He knew it, and he knew the value
of it. When some objections, hastily made to his discoveries
concerning light and colours, induced him to lay aside the
design he had taken of publishing his Optical Lectures, we
find him reflecting on that dispute into which he had unavoid-
ably been drawn in these terms :
—
I blamed my own impru-'

dence for parting with so real a blessing as my quiet, to run

after a shadow/ In the same temper, after he had sent the
manuscript to the Eoyal Society, with his consent to the
printing of upon Hook's injuriously insisting that he had
it,

himself solved Kepler's Problem before our author, he de-

termined, rather than be involved again in a controversy, to
suppress the third book ; and he was very hardly prevailed on
1
to alter that resolution."
I shall only add further on this head, that a love of contro-
versy indicates not only an overweening vanity and a disre-
gard for truth, but, in general, perhaps always, it indicates a
mediocrity of genius ; for it arises from those feelings of envy
and jealousy which provoke little minds to depreciate the merit
of useful discoveries. He who is conscious of his own inventive
powers, and whose great object add to the stock of human
is to
knowledge, will reject unwillingly any plausible doctrine till
after the most severe examination, and will separate, with
1
Huttou'fl Mathematical Dictionary
 — ;

PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. II.— OF JUSTICE, (AS CANDOUR.) 253

patience and temper, the truths it contains from the errors that
are blended with them. No opinion can be more groundless
than that a captious and disputatious temper is a mark of
acuteness. On the contrary, a sound and manly understanding
is inno instance more strongly displayed than in a quick per-
ception of important truth when imperfectly stated and blended
with error a perception which may not be sufficient to satisfy
;

the judgment completely at the time, or at least to obviate

the difficulties of others, but which is sufficient to prevent it
from a hasty rejection of the whole, from the obvious defects of
some of the parts. Hence the important hints which an author
of genius collects among the rubbish of his predecessors ; and
which, so far from detracting from his own originality, place it
in the strongest possible light, by showing thatan idea which
was already current in the world, and which had hitherto
remained barren and useless, may, in the mind of a philosopher,
become the germ of an extensive system.
I cannot help taking this opportunity of remarking, (although
the observation is not much connected with the subject in which
we are engaged,) that something similar to this may be applied
to our critical judgments in the fine arts. It is easy to perceive

blemishes, but it is the province of genius alone to have a quick

perception of beauties, and to be eager to applaud them. And
it is owing to this that of all critics a dunce is the severest, and
a man of genuine taste the most indulgent.

" Yes, they whom genius and true taste inspire,

Blame not with half the pleasure they admire
Each trifling fault unwillingly descry,
And view the beauties with a raptured eye.'" l

In the very elegant and interesting Life of Mr. Harris, pub-

lished by his son, [the Earl of Malmesbury,] there is no circum-
stance more honourable at once to his head and heart than
what is mentioned in the following passage :

" It was with him a maxim, that the most difficult, and
infinitely the preferable sort of criticism, both in literature and
in the arts, was that which consists in finding out beauties,
1
William Melraoth.
 —
;

254 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

rather than defects. And, although he certainly wanted not

judgment to distinguish and to prefer superior excellence ot
any kind, he was too reasonable to expect it should very often
occur, and too wise to allow himself to be disgusted with com-
mon weakness and imperfection. He thought indeed that the
very attempt to please, however it might fall short of its aim,
deserved some return of thanks, some degree of approbation
and that to endeavour at being pleased by such efforts was due
to justice, to good nature, and to good sense/'*
The foregoing illustrations are stated at some length, in order
to correct those partial definitions of justice which restrict its
province to a rigorous observance of the rules of integrity or
honesty in our dealings with our fellow-creatures. So far as
this last disposition proceeds from a sense of duty, uninfluenced
by human laws, it coincides exactly with that branch of virtue
which has been now described under the title of Candour.
In the instances hitherto mentioned, the disposition of Justice
has been supposed to operate in restraining the partialities of

the temper and passions. There are, however, no instances in

which its influence is more necessary than where our interest
is concerned ; or, to express myself more explicitly, where there
is an apparent interference between our rights and those of
other men. In such cases a disposition to observe the rules of
justice is called integrity or honesty, —
which is so important a
branch of justice that it has in a great measure appropriated
the name to itself. The observations made by Mr. Hume and
Mr. Smith on the differences between justice and the other
virtues, apply only to this last branch of it and it is this ;

branch which properly forms the subject of that part of ethics

which is called Natural Jurisprudence} In what remains of
this chapter, when the word Justice occurs, it is to be under-
stood in the limited sense now mentioned.
The circumstances which distinguish Justice from the other

* f
Works of James Harris, Esq., l
Tlicory of Moral Sentiments, Vol.
4to edition, Vol. I. p. xxv —
See above, II. p. 365, et seq. [Sixth Edition.
Philosophical Essays, ( Works, Vol. V.) Part VII. sect. iv. In the previous edi-
p. 372, seq., and Note R R.] tions, Part VI. sect, iv]
PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 255

virtues are chiefly two. In the first place, its rules may be
laid down with a degree of accuracy of which moral precepts
do not in any other instance admit. Secondly, its rules may
be enforced, inasmuch as every breach of them violates the
rights of some other person, and entitles him to employ force
for his defence or security.
Another distinction between Justice and the other virtues is
much insisted on by Mr. Hume.* It is, according to him, an
artificial and not a natural virtue, and derives all its obligations

from the political union, and from considerations of utility.

The argument alleged in support of this proposition
principal
is, that there is no implanted principle, prompting us by a
blind impulse to the exercise of justice, similar to those affec-
tions which conspire with and strengthen our benevolent dis-
positions. But granting the fact upon which this argument
proceeds, nothing can be inferred from it that makes an
essential distinction between the obligations of justice and of
beneficence for, so far as we act merely from the blind im-
;

pulse of an affection, our conduct cannot be considered as

virtuous. Our affections were given us to arrest our attention
to particular objects, whose happiness is connected with our
exertions and to excite and support the activity of the mind,
;

when a sense of duty might be insufficient for the purpose:

but the propriety or impropriety of our conduct depends in no
instance on the strength or weakness of the affection, but on
our obeying or disobeying the dictates of reason and of con-
science. These inform us, in language which it is impossible
to mistake, that sometimes a duty to check the most
it is

amiable and pleasing emotions of the heart to withdraw, for ;

—
example, from the sight of those distresses which stronger
claims forbid us to relieve, and to deny ourselves that exquisite
luxury which arises from the exercise of humanity. So far,
therefore, as benevolence is a virtue, it is precisely on the same
footing with justice ; we approve of it, not because
that is, it is

agreeable to us, but because we feel it to be a duty.

* [Essays, Vol. II. Inquiry concerning tlie Principles of Morals, sect. iii. and
Appendix iii.]
256 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

It may be farther remarked, that there are very strong im-

planted principles which serve as checks on injustice ; the
principles, to wit, of resentment and of indignation, which are
surely as much a part of the human constitution as pity or
parental affection. These principles imply a sense of injustice,
and consequently of justice.
In one remarkable instance, too, nature has made an addi-
tional provision for keeping alive among men a sense of those
obligations which justice imposes. That the good offices which
we have received from others constitute a debt which it is

morally incumbent on us to discharge by all lawful means in

our power, is acknowledged in the common form of expression
employed on such occasions, both by philosophers and the
vulgar. As the obligations of gratitude, however, do not admit
(like the rules of honesty, strictly so called) of support from
the magistrate, nature has judged it proper to enforce their
observance by one of the most irresistible and delightful im-
pulses of the human frame. According to this view of the
subject, gratitude, considered as a moral duty, is a branch of
justice recommended to us in a peculiar manner by those
pleasing emotions which accompany all the modes of benevo-
lent affection. It is at the same time a branch of what was
formerly called rational benevolence, not interfering with the
duty we owe to mankind in general, but tending, in a variety
of respects, to augment the sum of social happiness. The
casuistical questions to which this part of ethics has given rise,
however perplexing some of them may appear in theory, seldom,
if ever, occasion any hesitation in the conduct of those to whom

a sense of duty is the acknowledged rule of action Such is :

—
the harmony among all the various parts of our constitution,
when subjected to the control of reason and conscience and so ;

nearly allied are the dispositions which prompt to the different

offices of a virtuous life.

As the rules of justice, when applied to questions involving

the rights of other men, admit in their statement of a degree
of accuracy peculiar to themselves, that part of ethics which
 PART I.— TO OTHERS. CHAP. II.— OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 257

relates to them has been formed in modern times into a sepa-

rate branch of the science, under the title of Natural Juris-
prudence. The manner in which this subject has been hitherto
treated has been much influenced by the professional habits of
those who first turned their attention to it. Not only have its
principles been delivered in the form of a system of law, but
the technical arrangements of the Roman code have been
servilely copied.
What I mean by stating the principles of Jurisprudence in
the form of a system of law, will appear from the following
observations.
In the case of Justice there is always a right on one hand
corresponding to an obligation on the other. If I am under an
obligation, for example, to abstain from violating the property
of my neighbour, he has a right to defend by force his property
when invaded. It therefore appears that the rules of Justice
may be laid down in two different forms, either as a system of
duties, or as a system of rights. The former view of the subject
belongs properly to the Moralist, the latter to the Lawyer. It
is form accordingly that the principles of justice
in this last
have been stated by the writers on natural jurisprudence.
So far there is nothing to be reprehended in the plan they
have followed. On the contrary, a considerable advantage was
gained in point of method by adopting that very comprehensive
and accurate division of our rights which the civilians had in-
troduced. As the whole object of law is to protect men in all

that they may lawfully do, or possess, or demand, civilians have

defined the word Jus (or Bight) to be, " Facultas aliquid agendi,
vel possidendi, vel ab alio consequendi," —" a lawful claim to do
anything, to possess anything, or to demand some prestation
from some other person." The first of these may be called the
right of liberty, or the right of employing the powers we have
received from nature in every case in which we do not injure

the rights of others ; the second, the right of property ; the

third, the rights arisingfrom contract (or delinquency.) The
two last were farther distinguished from each other by calling
the former (to wit, the right of property) a real right, and the
VOL. VII. R
 258 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO MEN

latter (to wit, the rights arising from contract) personal rights,

because they respect some particular person or persons from

whom the prestation may be demanded.
This division of our rights appears to be comprehensive and
philosophical, and it affords a convenient arrangement for exhi-
biting an indirect view of the different duties which justice
prescribes. "What I have a right to do, it is the duty of my
fellow-creatures to allow me to do without molestation. What
ismy property, noman ought to take from me, or to disturb
me in the enjoyment of it. And what I have a right to demand
of any man, it is his duty to perform." 1 Such a system, there-
fore, with respect to our rights, exhibits (though in a manner
somewhat indirect and artificial) a system of the rules of justice.
But the writers on Natural Jurisprudence have not been con-
tented with copying from the Roman law the great divisions of
their subject. In consequence of that influence of professional
habits which we may remark daily on the most vigorous, and
in other respects the most enlightened understandings, they
have been led to follow the Roman code in many unnatural and
capricious arrangements and what is worse, they have substi-
;

tuted some of its most absurd principles as maxims of natural

justice. To the same cause may be ascribed the frivolous dis-
cussions with respect to minute and imaginary questions which
bo often occupy the place of those general and fundamental dis-
quisitions that are suggested by the common nature and the
common circumstances of the human race. It is sufficient to
mention the space which is occupied in most systems of jurispru-
dence, with an explanation of the different methods of acquir-
ing property by Accession, and with a discussion of the various
imaginary cases that may be supposed when the properties of
different individuals may happen to be thus confounded.
A still more material inconvenience has resulted from the
professional habits of the early writers on Jurisprudence. Not
contented with stating the rules of justice in that form and lan-
guage which was most familiar to their own minds, they have
1
Bad, Chi the Active J\nr<rs, p. 388, qunrto edition. [Essay V. chap. iii.

Work* p. I
 PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 259

attempted to extend the same plan to all the other branches of

Moral Philosophy ;
and, by the help of arbitrary definitions, to
supersede the necessity of accommodating their modes of in-
quiry to the various natures of their subject. Although justice
is the only branch of virtue in which there is always a right on
the one hand, corresponding to an obligation on the other, they
have contrived, by fictions of imperfect and of external rights,
to treat indirectly of all our different duties, by pointing out
the rights which are supposed to be their correlates. It is
chiefly owing to this that a study which, in the writings of the
ancients, is themost engaging and the most useful of any, has
become in so great a proportion of modern systems as uninvit-
ing and almost as useless as the logic of the schoolmen.
Besides these defects in the modern systems of Jurisprudence,
(defects produced by the accidental habits of those who first

cultivated the study,) there is another essential one arising from

the object of the science. Although the obligations of Justice
are by no means resolvable into considerations of Utility, yet in
every political association they are so blended together in the
institutions of men, that it is impossible for us to separate them
completely in our reasonings. And accordingly (as Mr. Hume
has remarked*) the writers on jurisprudence, while they profess
to confine themselves entirely to the former, are continually
taking principles for granted which have a reference to the
latter. It seems, therefore, to be proper, instead of treating of
jurisprudence merely as a system of natural justice, to unite it
with Politics, and to illustrate the general principles of justice
and of expediency, as they are actually combined in the con-

stitution of society. This view of the subject (which properly

belongs to the consideration of man member of a poli-
as the
tical body) will show, at the same time, how happily these
principles coincide in their application and how partial those
;

conceptions of utility are which have so often led politicians to

depart from what they felt to be just, in quest of what their
limited judgment apprehended to be expedient.

* [Essays, Vol IT. ; Inquiry con- Hi. :— p. 220. ed. 1788. See also Ap-
cerning the Principles of Jfbmll, sect. pcndix iii.]
 —
2G0 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

SUPPLEMENT TO CHAPTER SECOND.

The following observations on the Right of Property are in-

troduced here chiefly with a view of illustrating a remark in
the foregoing chapter, that we possess rights antecedent to the
establishment of the political union. The greater part of them
have a reference to the Essay on Property in Lord Karnes's
Historical Law Tracts}
It cannot, I apprehend, be doubted, that, according to the
notions to which we in the present state of society are habitu-
ated from our infancy, the three following things are included
in the idea of property :

1. A right of exclusive enjoyment.

2. A right of inquiry after our property when taken away
without our consent, and of reclaiming it wherever found.
3.A right of transference.
We do not consider our property in any object to be com-
plete, unless we can exercise all these three rights with respect
to it.

Lord Karnes endeavours to show that these ideas are not

agreeable to the apprehensions of the human mind in the rudei
periods of society, but imply a refinement and abstraction oi

thought, which are the result of improvement in law ano

government. The relation (in particular) of property, inde-
pendent of possession, he thinks of too metaphysical a nature
for the mind of a savage. " It appears to me," says he, " to be
highly probable, that among savages involved in objects o
sense, and strangers to abstract speculation, property, and tin
rights or moral powers arising from it, never are with accuracy
distinguished from the natural powers that must be exerteo
upon the subject to make it profitable to the possessor. The
man who kills and eats, who sows and reaps, at his own plea-
sure, independent of another's will, is naturally deemed pro-
prietor. The grossest savages understand power without right,
of which they are made sensible by daily acts of violence ; but
1
Tract iii : third Edition.
PARTI. — TOOTHERS. CHAP.II. —OF JUSTICE. (AS INTEGRITY.) 261

property without possession is a conception too abstract for a

ravage, or for any person who has not studied the principles of
1
law.'*'

With remark I cannot agree because I think the right

this ;

of property is founded on a natural sentiment, which must be

felt in full force in the lowest state of society. The sentiment
I allude to is that of a moral connexion between Labour and a
rigid of exclusive enjoyment to the fruits of it. This con-
nexion it will be proper to illustrate more particularly.
Let us suppose, then, a country so fertile as to produce all

the necessaries and accommodations of life, without any exer-

tions of human industry it is ;
manifest, that in such a state of
things no man would think of appropriating to himself any of
these necessaries or accommodations, any more than we in this
part of the globe think of appropriating air or water. As this,
however, is not in any part of the earth, the condition of man,
doomed as he is, by the circumstances of his birth, to eat his
bread in the sweat of his brow, would be reasonable to ex- it

pect, a priori, that nature would make some provision for

securing to individuals the fruits of their industry. In fact,
she has made such a provision in the natural sentiments of
mankind, which lead them to consider industry as entitled to

reward, and in particular, the labourer as entitled to the fruit

of his own labour. These, I think, may be fairly stated as
moral axioms, to which the mind vields its assent, as imme-
diately and necessarily as it does to any axiom in mathematics
or metaphysi'
How cruel is the mortification we feel when we see an indus-
trious man reduced by some unforeseen misfortune to beggary
in old a£e ! We can scarcely help complaining of the precari-
ous condition of humanity, and that man should be thus
doomed to be the sport of accident: And we feel ourselves
called on, as far as we are able, to repair, by our own liberality,

this unjust distribution of the goods of fortune. On the other

hand, it is difficult to avoid some degree of dissatisfaction when
we see the natural and deserved reward of industry acquired
1
Tract iii. ; same Edition, p. 90.
 ;

262 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

all at once by a prize in the by gaming, although in

lottery or
this instance the uneasiness (as might be expected from the
natural benevolence of the human mind) is trifling in compari-
son of what it is Our dissatisfaction in par-
in the other case.
ticular instances is much greater when we see the labourer
deprived by accident of the immediate fruit of his own labour
—when, for example, he has nearly completed a complicated
machine, and some delicate part of it gives way and renders all

his toil useless.

If another person interferes with the fruit of his industry,
our dissatisfaction and indignation are still more increased.
We feel here a variety of sentiments. 1. A dissatisfaction that
the labourer does not enjoy that reward to which his industry
entitled him. 2. A dissatisfaction that another person, who
did not labour, should acquire the possession of an object of
value. And 3. An indignation against the man who deprived
the labourer of his just reward.
This sentiment, " that the labourer deserves the fruit of his
own labour," is the chief, (or rather abstracting from positive
institution,) the only foundation of the sense of property. An
attempt to deprive him of it is a species of injustice which
rouses the indignation of every impartial spectator ; and so
deeply are these principles implanted in our nature, that we
cannot help feeling some degree of remorse when we deprive
even a hive of bees of that provision which they had indus-
triously collected for their own use.
The writers, indeed, on Natural Law, ascribe in general the
origin of property to priority of Occupancy, and have puzzled
themselves in attempting to explain how this act should appro-
priate to an individual what was formerly in common. Grotius
and Pufendorff insist that this right of occupancy is founded
upon a tacit but understood assent of all mankind, that the
first occupant should become the owner. And Barbeyrac,
Locke, and others, that the very act of occupancy alone, being
a degree of bodily labour, is, from a principle of natural justice,
without any compact, a sufficient foundation of property.
Blackstone, although he thinks that the dispute about the
 PART I. —TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 263

manner which occupancy conveys a right of property,

in
savours too much of scholastic refinement, expresses no doubt
about its having this effect independent of positive institu-
tions. 1

Some have founded the right of property

later philosophers
on the general Sympathy of mankind with the reasonable
Expectation which the occupant has formed of enjoying unmo-
lested the object he has got possession of, or of which he was
the first discoverer ; and on the indignation felt by the im-
partial spectator when he sees this reasonable expectation dis-
appointed. This theory (which I have been assured from the
best authoritywas adopted by Mr. Smith in his Lectures on
Jurisprudence) seems to have been suggested by a passage in
Dr. Hutcheson's Moral Philosophy, in which he says, that " it
is immoral, when we can support ourselves otherwise, to defeat
any innocent design of another and that on this immorality is ;

founded the regard we owe to the claims of the first occupant."*

In this theory, too, it is taken for granted that priority of
occupancy founds a right of property, and that such a right
may even be acquired by having accidentally seen a valuable
object before it was observed by any other person.
In order to think with accuracy on this subject, it is neces-
sary to distinguish carefully the complete right .of property
which is founded on Labour, from the transient right of pos-
session which is acquired by mere priority of Occupancy. Thus,
before the appropriation of land, if any individual had occupied
a particular spot for repose or shade, would have been unjust it

to deprive him of the possession of it. This, however, was only

a transient right. The spot of ground would again become
common the moment the occupier had left it ; that is, the right
of possession would remain no longer than the act of possession.
Cicero illustrates this happily by the similitude of a theatre.
u Quemadmodum theatrum, cum commune sit, recte tamen dici
2
potest ejus esse eum locum quem quisque occuparit."

1
See his Commentaries, Book II. Book II. chap. vi. § 5. Also the Insti-
chap. i. tutio Compendiaria, Lib. II. c. v. § 4.]

* [Seethe Systemqf Moral Philosophy, 2

De Finibus, Lib. III. c. xx.
 —

264 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

The general conclusions which I deduce from the foregoing

observations are these :

1. That in every state of society Labour, wherever it is

exerted, is understood to found a right of property.

2. That, according to natural law, (in the sense at least in
which that phrase is commonly employed by writers on juris-
prudence,) Labour is the only original way of acquiring pro-
perty.
3. That, according to natural law, mere Occupancy founds
only a right of possession ; and that, wherever it founds a
complete right of property, it owes its force to positive insti-
tutions.
An attention to these conclusions, in particular to the dis-
tinction between the transient right of possession founded on
Occupancy, and the permanent right of property founded on
Labour, will, if I am not mistaken, clear up some of the
difficulties which involve the first steps in the history of pro-
perty, according to the view of the subject given by Lord
Karnes ; and it was with this view I was led to premise
these general principles to the slight historical sketch I am
now to offer.
With respect to that system which refers the origin of pro-
perty to the political union and to considerations of Utility, it

seems sufficient to observe, that so far is government from

creating this right, that its necessary effect is to subject it to
certain limitations. Abstracting from the political confedera-
tion, every man's property is solely at his own disposal. He is

supreme judge in his own cause, and may defend what he

conceives to be his right as far as his power reaches. In the
state of civil society his property is regulated by positive laws,
and he must acquiesce in the judgment of his superiors with
respect to his rights, even in those cases where he feels it to be
unjust.
From the passage already quoted
[p. 260] from Karnes, it

appears that he conceived the idea of property without pos-

session to be of too abstract and metaphysical a nature to be
apprehended by a savage; and he has collected a variety of
PART I. —TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 265

facts to prove, that, according to the common notions of man-

kind, in the infancy of jurisprudence, the right of property is

understood to cease the moment that possession is at an end.

But on a more attentive examination of the subject, I appre-
hend it will be found that the ideas of savages, with respect
to property, are the same with ours that mere occupancy
;

without labour founds only a right of possession and that ;

labour, wherever it is employed, founds an exclusive and

permanent right to the fruits of it. Lord Karnes's theory has
obviously been suggested by the common doctrine with respect
to the right of property being founded in priority of occupancy,
compared with the acknowledged among rude nations
fact, that

occupancy does not establish a permanent right. The other

arguments which he has alleged in support of his opinion will
be found to be equally inconclusive.
Before I proceed to the consideration of these it may be
proper to observe, that we must not always form an idea of
the sentiments of men from the defects of their laws. The
existence indeed of a law is a proof of the sentiments which
men felt when the law was made but ; the defects of a law
are not always proofs that men did not feel that there were
disorders in the state of society which required correction.
The laws of a country may not make provision for repara-
tion to the original proprietor in the case of theft; but it

will not follow from this that men do not apprehend the
original proprietor to have any right when his property has
been stolen from him. The application of this general remark
to some of the arguments I am now to consider will, I hope,
be so obvious as to render it unnecessary for me to point it

out particularly.
Among most plausible is founded
these arguments, one of the
on a general principle, which appears, from a variety of facts
quoted by Karnes, to run through most rude systems of juris-
prudence, that, in the case of stolen goods, the claim of the
bona fide Purchaser is preferable to that of the original pro-
prietor. This he accounts for from the imperfect notions they
have of the metaphysical nature of property when separated
266 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

from possession. But if this were the case, the same laws
should support the claim of the thief against the original pro-
prietor : or rather, indeed, neither the original proprietor, nor
any one else, could conceive that he had any connexion with
the object stolen the moment after it was out of his possession.
The fact is, that this respect paid to the bona fide purchaser is
a proof not of any misapprehension with respect to the idea of
property, but of a weak government and an imperfect police.
Where thefts are easily committed, and where no public fairs
or markets are established, it would put a complete end to all
transferences of property, if the bona fide purchaser were left
exposed to the claims of former proprietors. Such a practice
would be attended with still greater inconveniences than arise
from the casual violations of property by theft not to men- ;

tion that the regard shown to the bona fide purchaser must
have a tendency to repress theft, by redoubling the attention of
individuals to preserve the actual possession of their property.
That these or some other views of utility were the real foundation
of the laws quoted by Karnes, is confirmed by an old regulation
in our own country, prohibiting buying and selling, except in
—
open market, a regulation which had obviously been suggested
by the experience of the inconveniences arising from the latent
claims of former proprietors against bona fide purchasers.
Another argument mentioned by Karnes in support of his
theory is founded on the shortness of the term which completes
Prescription among rude nations ; a single year, for example,
in the case of moveables, by the oldest law of the Romans.
This law, he says, testifies that property, independent of posses-
sion, was considered to be a right of the slend* rest kind. It is
evident, that, upon his own principles, it should not in that
state of society have been considered as a right at all. If it

was conceived to subsist a single day after the possession was

at an end, the metaphysical difficulty which he magnifies so
much was obviously surmounted. In every society it will be
found expedient to some term for prescription, and the par-
fix

ticular Length of it must be determined by the circumstances

of the society at the time. In general, as law improves, and
PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 267
government becomes more effectual, a greater attention to the
stability of property, and consequently a longer term for pre-
scription, may be expected.
The Community of goods which is said to take place among
some rude nations will be found, on examination, to be perfectly
consistent with the account I have given of their ideas on the
subject of property. Where the game is taken by a common
effort, the natural sense of justice dictates that it should be en-
joyed in common. And indeed, abstracting from all considera-
tions of justice, the experience of the precarious fortune of the
chase would soon suggest to the common sense of mankind the
expediency of such an arrangement. This, however, does not
indicate any imperfection in their idea of property ; for even in
this state of society there are always some articles which are
understood to be the exclusive property of the individual, such
as his bow and arrows, and the instruments he employs in
fishing.
I am confirmed in these conclusions by the account given by
Dr. Robertson of the American Indians ; and the more so, as
the facts he mentions, and even his reasonings, stand in oppo-
sition to his own preconceived opinion. " Nations" he says

expressly, " ivhich depend upon hunting are strangers to the

idea of property ;" and yet, when he comes to explain himself,
it appears that even in the present age of metaphysical refine-

ment, if our physical circumstances were the same, we should

feel and judge exactly as they do. " As the animals," he con-
tinues in the passage immediately following the last sentence
quoted, " on which the hunter feeds are not bred under his
inspection, nor nourished by his care, he can claim no right to
them while they run wild in the forest. Where game is so
plentiful that it can be catched with little trouble, men never
dream of appropriating what is of small value, or of easy ac-
quisition. Where it is so rare that the labour or danger of the
chase requires the united efforts of a tribe or village, what is

killed is a common stock belonging equally to all, who, by their

skill or their courage, have contributed to the success of the
excursion. The forest or hunting grounds are deemed the pro-
 268 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

perty of the tribe, from which it has a title to exclude every

rival nation. But no individual arrogates a right to any dis-
trict of these in preference to his fellow-citizens. They belong
equally to all, and thither, as to a general and undivided store,
all repair in quest of sustenance. The same principles by
which they regulate their chief occupation extend to that which
is subordinate. Even agriculture has not introduced among
them a complete idea of property. As the men hunt, the
women labour together, and after they have shared the toils of
the seed-time, they enjoy the harvest in common." 1
In the notes and illustrations at the end of the History, Dr.
Robertson seems to have been aware that he had expressed
himself somewhat too strongly on this subject, and he has even
gone so far as to intimate his suspicions that the common facts
are not very accurately stated. " I strongly suspect that a

community of goods and an undivided store, are known only

among the rudest tribes of hunters, and that as soon as any
species of agriculture or regular industry is known, the idea
of an exclusive right of property to the fruits of them is
introduced."
In support of this opinion, Dr. Robertson refers to accounts

which he had received concerning the state of propertyamong

the Indians in very different regions of America. " The idea

of the natives of Brazil/' says the Chevalier de Pinto, who

writes on this subject from personal observation, " concerning
property is, that if any person cultivate a field, he alone ought
to enjoy the produce of and no other has a title to pretend
it,

to it. If an individual or a family go a hunting or fishing,

what is caught belongs to the individual or family, and they
communicate no part of it but to their Cazique, and such of
their kindred as happen to be indisposed.
" If any person in the village come to their hut, he may sit

down freely and eat without asking liberty. But this is the
consequence of their general principle of hospitality, for I never
observed any partition of (he increase of their fields, or the pro-
duce of the chase, which I could consider as the result of any
1
History of America, Hook W,
PART I. —TO OTHERS. CHAP. IT. — OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 269

idea concerning the community of goods. On the contrary,

they are so much attached to what they deem to be their pro-
perty, that it would be extremely dangerous to encroach on it.
As far as I have seen or can learn, there is not one tribe of
Indians in South America among whom that community of
goods, which has been so highly extolled, is known. The cir-
cumstance in the government of the Jesuits most irksome to
the Indians of Paraguay, was the community of goods which
those fathers introduced. This was repugnant to the original
ideas of the Indians. They were acquainted with the- rights of
private exclusive property, and they submitted with impatience
to the regulations which destroyed them." 1
u Actual possession/' says a Missionary who resided several
years among the Indians of the Five Nations. " gives a right
to the soil, but, whenever a possessor sees fit to quit it, another
has as good a right to take it as he who left it. This law or
custom respects not only the particular spot on which he erects
his house, but also his planting-ground. If a man has pre-
pared a particular spot of ground, on which he proposes in
future to build or plant, no man has a right to incommode
him, much less to the fruit of his labours, until it appears that
he voluntarily gives up his views. But I never heard of any
formal conveyance from one Indian to another in their natural
state. The limits of every canton is circumscribed, that is,

they are allowed to hunt as far as such a river on this band,

and such a mountain on the other. This area is occupied and
improved by individuals and their families. Individuals, not
the community, have the use and profit of their own labours,
2
or success in hunting."
In a passage quoted on a former occasion from Crantz, [ Works,
Vol. VI. p. 239,] a remarkable instance is given of a sacred and
even superstitious regard to property among the Greenlanders.
" Not one of these people," says he, " will appropriate to him-
selfa sea-dog, in which he finds one or more harpoons with
untorn thongs, nor even carry away drift-wood, or other things
1
M. le Chev. de Tinto, MS., quoted
2
MS. of Mr. Gideon Kawley, quoted
by Dr. Robertson. by Dr. Robert wra.
 ;

270 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

thrown up by the sea, if they are covered with a stone, because

they consider this as an indication that they have been already
appropriated by some other person/' This is the more singular,
as they are described by the same very authentic writer, as
carrying their pacific and unresisting disposition to an extra-
ordinary length, when their own
rights are invaded by strangers.
" They will rather," he tells us, " quit a territory, than expel
those who come and fish within the dams which they have
raised with great labour." He justly, however, ascribes this to
the passiveness and cowardice of their tempers, and not to a
defect in their idea of property, or to an unconsciousness of the
injury they have received. The contrary, indeed, may be safely
inferred from the singular integrity by which they are distin-
guished in their own transactions.
I formerly said, that, according to the Law of Nature, Labour
not only founds an exclusive right of property in those objects
to which it has communicated their utility, but that it is the
sole method by which an object can be appropriated by an in-
dividual, independently of conventional ideas and institutions
and that, wherever a priority of occupancy is understood to
establish a right beyond the period of actual possession, it
derives this effect entirely from regulations (either tacitly or
formally recognised among the parties concerned) which have
been gradually suggested, in the progress of human reason, by
considerations of convenience or of expediency. It must not,
however, be inferred from this, that in a civilized society there
is anything in that species of property which is acquired by
labour to which individuals owe a more sacred regard, than
they do to every other species of property created or recognised
by positive laws. Among these last there are many which
have derived their origin from a principle no less obligatory

than our natural sense of justice ; a clear perception in the

mind of the legislator (sanctioned perhaps by the concurrent
experience of different ages and nations) of genetod utility;
and to all of them, while (hoy exist, the reverence of the Bub-
jecl due on the same principle which binds him to respect
is

and to maintain the social order: Nature has provided for

 PART I. —TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 271

human happiness, in this instance, in a manner precisely

analogous to her general economy. Those simple and indis-
pensable rules of right and wrong, of just and unjust, without
which the fruits of the earth could not be converted to the use
of man, nor his existence maintained even in the rudest form
of the social union, she has engraved on the heart as an essen-
tial part of the human constitution, —leaving men, as society
advances, to employ their gradually improving reason in fixing,
according to their own ideas of expediency, the various regula-
tions concerning the acquisition, the alienation, and transmis-
sion of property, which the more complicated interests of the
community may require.
It is also beautifully ordered, that, while a regard for legal
property is thus secured, among men capable of reflection, by a
sense of general utility, the same effect is accomplished, in the
minds of the multitude, by habit and the association of ideas ;
in consequence of which all the inequalities of fortune are
sanctioned by mere prescription and long possession is con- ;

ceived to found a right of property as complete as what, by

the law of nature, an individual has in the fruits of his own
industry.
In such a state of things, therefore, as that with which we
are connected, the right of property must be understood to
derive its origin from two distinct sources ; the one is, that
natural sentiment of the mind which establishes a moral con-
nexion between labour and an exclusive enjoyment of the fruits
of it ; the other is the municipal institutions of the country
where we live. These institutions everywhere take rise partly

from ideas of natural and partly (perhaps chiefly) from

justice,

ideas of supposed utility, —

two principles which, when properly
understood, are, I believe, always in harmony with each other,
and which it ought to be the great aim of every legislator to
reconcile to the utmost of his power. Among those questions,
however, which fall under the cognizance of positive laws,
there are many on which natural justice is entirely silen*, and
which, of consequence, may be discussed on principles of utility
solely. Such are most of the questions concerning the regula-
272 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

tion of the succession to a man's property after his death ; of

some of which it may perhaps be found that the determination
ought to vary with the circumstances of the society, and which
have certainly, in fact, been frequently determined by the
caprice of the legislator, or by some principle ultimately re-
solvable into an accidental association of ideas. Indeed, various
cases may be supposed in which it is not only useful but neces-
sary that a rule should be fixed ; while, at the same time,
neither Justice nor Utility seem to be much interested in the
particular decision.
In examining the questions which turn on considerations of
Utility, some will immediately occur of which the determination
is so obvious, and at the same time so universal in their appli-
cation, that the laws of all enlightened nations on the subject
may be expected to be the same. Of this description are many
of the questions which may be stated with respect to the effects

of priority of occupancy in establishing permanent rights.

These questions are of course frequently confounded with ques-
tions of naturallaw ; and in one sense of that phrase they may
not improperly be comprehended under the title, but the dis-
tinction between them and the other class of questions is
essential ; for wherever considerations of Utility are involved
the political union is supposed ; whereas the principles of
Justice, properly so called, (of that justice, for example, which
respects the right of the labourer to enjoy the fruit of his own
industry,) is inseparable from the human frame. It is necessary
(as I already said) to maintain the social union even in its
simplest form ; and in its most improved state it operates as a
principle of morality to guard the rights of individuals, and to
maintain the order of society, in numberless instances to which
the laws of the magistrate cannot extend.
I have insisted the longer on this distinction, because, obvious
as it may appear, it has been seldom attended to by writers on
Jurisprudence. Confining their views to the state of their own
ideas and feelings as modified by artificial habits, they have
neglected to draw the line between the rigid of property as
recognised by the low of nature, and the right of property as
PART I. —TO OTHERS. CHAP. II. — OF JUSTICE, (AS INTEGRITY.) 273

created by municipal institutions. In their speculations, ac-

cordingly, on this subject, they have searched for one general
principle into which all the different phenomena might be
resolved; and, in this manner, while they have perverted
the history of mankind in the early stages of society, they
have weakened the foundations on which property rests when
considered as a part of the political system.

VOL. VII.

_
 CHAPTER III.

OF VERACITY.

The important rank which Veracity holds among our social

duties appears from the obvious consequences that would result

if no foundation were laid for it in the constitution of our
nature. The purposes of speech would be frustrated, and every
man's opportunities of knowledge would be limited to his own
personal experience.
Considerations of utility, however, do not seem to be the only
ground of the approbation we bestow on this disposition. Ab-
stracting from all regard to consequences, there is something
pleasing and amiable in sincerity, openness, and truth some- ;

thing disagreeable and disgusting in duplicity, equivocation,

and falsehood. Dr. Hutcbeson himself, the great patron of
that theory which resolves all moral qualities into benevolence,
confesses this ; for he speaks of a sense which leads us to
approve of Veracity, distinct from the sense which approves
of qualities useful to mankind. " Facultatis hujus, sive ora-

tion is, comes est et moderator sensus quidam snbtilior, ex veri

etiam cognoscendi appetitione naturali non parum confirmatus,
quo vera omnia, comprobamus falsa ficta,
simplicia, fidelia ;

fallacia odimus." — " Sensu

enim cuj usque proxhne commen-
1

datur is sermonis usus, quern communis exigit utilitas. Hoc . . .

vero stabile consilium eo tantum utendi sermone, qui cum animi

sententia congruit, quique alios non decipiet, comprobant et
animi sensus per se, et utilitatis communis ratio/' 2 As this,
x
Philosophise Moralis Instihdio Com- favk$* «««^i«r«»; ri l\ kXtifit ««X«»
pendiaria, Lib. II. cap. ix. § 1. *«) Urmmrh.—Ktk Xic. Lib. IV. cap.
* Ibid. Lib. II. cap. x. § 1. vii. Various passages of a similar im-
Aristotle expresses bimsclf nearly to port occur in Cicero,
the same purpose. K«S uirlfUt >/-»i/3«»
 PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. III. OF VERACITY. 275

however, is at best but a vague way of speaking, it may be

proper to analyze more particularly that part of our constitu-
tion from which our approbation of Veracity arises.
That there is in the human mind a natural or instinctive
principle of veracity, has been remarked by many authors the ;

same part of our constitution which prompts to social inter-

course, prompting also to sincerity in our mutual communica-
tions. Truth is always the spontaneous and native expression
of our sentiments ;
whereas falsehood implies a certain violence
done to our nature, in Consequence of the influence of some
motive which we are anxious to conceal.
With respect to truth various metaphysical
the nature of
speculations have been offered to the world, and various defini-
tions have been attempted, both by the ancients and moderns.
These, however, have thrown but little light on the subject,
which is not surprising, when we consider that the word truth
expresses a simple idea or notion, of which no analysis or expli-
cation is possible. The same observation may be made with
respect to the words knowledge and belief. All of them express
notions which are implied in every judgment of the under-
standing, and which no being can form who is not possessed of
a rational nature. And, bv the wav, these notions deserve to

be added to the list formerly mentioned, as exemplifications of

the imperfection of the account commonly given of the origin
of our ideas. They are obviously not derived from any parti-
cular sense ; and they do not seem to be referable to any part
of our constitution, but to the understanding ; or, in other
words, to those rational powers which distinguish man from the
brutes. This language, I know, will appear to be very loose
and inaccurate to those who have familiarized their minds to

the common doctrine ; but it is a plain and indisputable state-

ment of the fact.
To acquire knowledge or to discover truth, is the proper
object of Curiosity ; a principle of action which is coeval with

the first operations of the intellect, and which in most minds

continues through life to have a powerful influence in one way
or another on the character and the conduct. It is this prin-
276 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

which puts the intellectual faculties in motion, and gives

ciple
them that exercise which is necessary for their development
and improvement and which, according
; to the direction it

takes, and the particular set of faculties it exercises, is the

principal foundation of the diversities of genius among men.
And as the diversities of genius proceed from the different
directions in which curiosity engages the attention, so the in-
equalities of genius among individuals may he traced in a great
measure to the different degrees of ardour and of perseverance
with which the curiosity operates. When I say this, I would
not be understood to insinuate, that the different capacities of
individuals are the same a supposition contradicted by obvious
;

facts, and contrary to what we should be led to conclude from

the analogy of the body. I only wish to impress on all those
who have any connexion with the education of youth, the great
importance of stimulating the curiosity, and of directing it to
proper objects, as the most effectual of all means for securing

the improvement of the mind : I may add, as one of the most

effectual provisions that can be made for the happiness of the
individual, in consequence of the resources it furnishes when
we are left to depend on ourselves for enjoyment and in con- ;

sequence also of the progressive vigour with which it operates

to the very close of life, in proportion to the enlargement of our
experience and the extent of our information.
In order, however, to prevent misapprehensions of my mean-
ing, it is necessary for me again to remark, that the Curiosity
on which 1 lay so great a stress is that curiosity alone which
has truth for its object. " There are many men," says Butler,
" who have a strong curiosity to know what is said, who have
no curiosity to know what is true ;"* —
men who value know-
ledge only as furnishing an employment to their memory, or as
supplying a gratification to their vanity in their intercourse
with others. It is a weakness which we may presume has pre-
vailed more or less in all ages ; but which has been much
encouraged modern Europe, by that superstitious admiration
in

of antiquity which has withdrawn so much genius and industry

* [Preface to Sermon* upon Human Naturt.]
 ;

PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. III. — OF VERACITY. 277

from the pursuits of science to those of erudition. No preju-

dice can be conceived more adverse to the progress of useful
knowledge, not only as it occasions an idle waste of time and
labour which might have been more profitably employed, but
as it contributes powerfully to destroy that simplicity and mo-
desty of temper which are the genuine characteristics of the
true philosopher.
I think it of importance to add, that the love of truth, where
it is the great motive of our intellectual pursuits, gains daily an
accession of strength as our knowledge advances. I already
said that it is an ultimate fact in our nature, and is not re-
solvable into views of utility. Its extensive effects on human
happiness are discovered only in the progress of our experience
but when this discovery is once made, it superadds to our in-
stinctive curiosity every stimulus which
and benevo- self-love
lence can furnish. The connexion between error and misery,
between truth and happiness, becomes gradually more apparent
as our inquiries proceed, and produces at last a complete con-
viction that, even in those cases where we are unable to trace
it, the connexion subsists. He who feels this as he ought, will
consider a steadfast adherence to the truth as an expression of
benevolence to man, and of confidence in the righteous ad-
ministration of the universe, and will suspect the purity of
those motives, which would lead him to advance the good of
his species or the glory of his Maker,by deceit and hypocrisy.
In offering these remarks, I shall no doubt be thought to
have taken a very wide circuit in order to illustrate the nature
of that veracity which is incumbent on us in our intercourse
with our fellow-creatures. But it appears to me that the most
solid of all foundations for the uniform and the scrupulous
exercise of this virtue, is to cherish the love of truth in general,
and to impress the mind with a conviction of its important
effectson our own happiness and on that of society. There is,
indeed, a sort of gross and ostensible practice of this duty,
which is secured by what we call the point of honour in modern
Europe, which brands with infamy every palpable deviation
from the truth in matters of fact. The law of honour here
278 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

operates in the case of veracity, in some measure as the law of

the magistrate operates in the case of justice. But, as in the
latter case, a man may be unjust in the sight of God and of his
own conscience without transgressing the letter of any statute,
so in the former, without forfeiting his character as a gentle-
man, he may often incur all the guilt of a liar and an impostor.
Is it, in a moral view, more criminal to misrepresent a fact,
than to impose on the world by what we know to be an un-
sound or a fallacious argument ? Is it, in a moral view, more
criminal to mislead another by a verbal lie, than by actions
which convey a false idea of our intentions ? Is it, in a moral
view, more criminal, or is it more inconsistent with the dignity
of a man of true honour, to defraud men in a private transac-
tion by an incorrect or erroneous statement of circumstances,
than to mislead the public to their own ruin by those wilful
deviations from truth into which we see men daily led by views
of interest or ambition, or by the spirit of political faction ?
Numberless cases, in short, may be fancied, in which our only
security for truth is the virtuous disposition of the individual,
and where the restraint of public opinion has little or no influ-
ence. Perhaps should not go too far were I to affirm, that,
I
as there is no duty of which the gross and ostensible practice is

so effectually secured by the manners of modern times, so there

is none of the obligations of which mankind seem in general to
be so insensible, considered as moral agents, and accountable
to God for their thoughts and intentions.
Among the various causes which have conspired to relax our
moral principles on this important article, the facility which
the press affords us in modern times of addressing the world
by means of anonymous publications, is probably one of the
most powerful. The salutary restraint which a regard to char-
acter imposes, in most cases, on our moral deviations, is here
withdrawn; and we have no security for the fidelity of the
writer, but his disinterested love of truth and of mankind.
The palpable and ludicrous misrepresentations of facts, to which
we are accustomed from our infancy in the periodical prints of
the day, gradually unhinge our faith in all such eommunica-
 PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. III. — OF VERACITY. 279

tions ; and what we are everv dav accustomed to see. we cease

iii time to regard with due abhorrence. Nor is this the only
moral evil resulting from the licentiousness of the press. The
intentions of nature in appointing public esteem as the reward
of virtue, and infamy as the punishment of rice, are in a great
measure thwarted and while the fairest characters are left
;

open to the assaults of a calumny which it is impossible to trace

to its author, the opinions of the public may be so divided by
the artifices of hireling flatterers, with raped to men of the
most profligate and abandoned lives, as to enable them not only
to brave tr -ires of the world, but to retaliate with more
than an equal advantage on the good name of those who have
the rashness to accuse them.
In a free government like ours, the liberty of the press has
'i often and Palladium of the Constitution;
justly called the
but it may reasonably be doubted whether this liberty would
be at all impaired by a regulation, which, while it left the press
perfectly open to every man who was willing openly to avow
his opinions, rendered it impossible for any individual to pub-
lish a sentence without the sanction of his name. Upon this

-tion, however, considered in a polii int of view, I shall

not presume to decide. Considered in a moral light, the ad-

vantages of such a regulation appear to be obvious and indis-
putable, and the effect could scarcely fail to have a most ex-
-ive influence on national mann
Under this article of veracity in testimony might be con-
sidered a great variety of those abuses of speech which occur
dailv in ordinary conversation. But t! --deration of these

would lead me into details too minute for my general plan.

And I quit the subject with the Lea i-luctance, as it has b
so ably by Dr. Butler in his excellent Discount on
the < f the. T
Beside that love of truth which seems evidently to be an
original principle of the mind, there are other laws of our
nature which were plainly intended to secure the practice of
r

Jl.
veracity in our intercourse with our fellow-creatures.
are others, too, which, as tb • the practice of this vir-
280 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

tue, may be regarded as intimations of that conduct which is

conformable to the end and destination of our being. Such is

that disposition to repose faith in testimony, which is coeval

with the use of language. Without such a disposition the
education of children would be impracticable ; and accordingly,
so far from being the result of experience, it seems to be, in
the first instance, unlimited ; nature intrusting its gradual cor-
rection to the progress of reason and of observation. This re-
mark, which I think was first made by Dr. Reid,* has been
since repeated and enforced by Mr. Smith in the last edition of
his Theory of Moral Sentiments} This author observes farther,
that, " notwithstanding the lessons of caution communicated to
us by experience, there is scarcely a man to be found who is
not more credulous than he ought to be, and who does not,
upon many occasions, give credit to tales which not only turn
out to be perfectly false, but which a very moderate degree of
reflection and attention might have taught him could not well
be true. The natural disposition is always to believe. It is
acquired wisdom and experience alone that teach incredulity,
and they very seldom teach it enough. The wisest and most
cautious of us all frequently gives credit to stories which he
himself is afterwards both ashamed and astonished that he
could possibly think of believing." This disposition to repose
faith in testimony, bears a striking analogy, both in its origin
and in its final cause, to our instinctive expectation of the con-
tinuance of those laws which regulate the course of physical
events.
In infancy the principle of veracity by no means so con- is

spicuous as that of credulity, and it sometimes happens that a

good deal of care is necessary to cherish it. But in such cases
it will always be found that there is some indirect motive com-

bined with the desire of social communication, such as fear, or

vanity, or mischief, or sensuality. The same principle which

prompts to social intercourse and to the use of speech, prompts

* [Inquiry, &c, Chap. VI. sect. xxiv. — Works, p. 195, seq. On the Active
Powers, Essay III. Part i. chap. 2. — Works, 549.]
p.
'
Bee Vol ii p. 382. [Sixth edition, 1790. - Part VII. sect. It.]
 PART I. — TO OTHERS. CHAP. III. —OF VERACITY. 281

also to veracity. Nor is it probable that there is such a thing

as falsehood uttered merely from the love of falsehood.
If this remark be just, it suggests an important practical rule
in the business of education :
—Not to attempt the cure of lying
and deceit by general rules concerning the duty of veracity, or
by punishments inflicted upon every single violation of it, but
by studying to discover and remove the radical evil from which
it springs, whether it be cowardice, or vanity, or mischief, or
selfishness, or sensuality. Either of these, if allowed to operate,
will in time unhinge the natural constitution of the mind, and
produce a disregard to truth upon all occasions where a tem-
porary convenience can be gained by the breach of it.

From these imperfect hints,would appear that every

it

breach of veracity indicates some latent vice or some criminal

intention, which an individual is ashamed to avow. And hence
the peculiar beauty of openness or sincerity, uniting in some
degree in itself the graces of all the other moral qualities of
which it attests the existence.
which is commonly regarded as a branch
Fidelity to promises,
of veracity, is perhaps more properly a branch of justice but ;

this is merely a question of arrangement, and of little conse-

quence to our present purpose. If a person gives his promise,
intending to perform, but fails in the execution, his fault is

strictly speaking a breach of justice. As there is a natural

faith in testimony, so there is a natural expectation excited by
a promise. When I excite this expectation, and lead other
men to act accordingly, I convey a right to the performance of
my promise, and I act unjustly if I fail in performing it.

If a person promises, not intending to perform, he is guilty

of a complication of injustice and falsehood ; for although a

declaration of present intention does not amount to a promise,

every promise involves a declaration of present intention.

These observations may suffice with respect to the duties

which have our fellow-creatures for their objects. I have by
no means attempted a complete enumeration, which would
282 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

have unavoidably engaged me in an illustration of the hack-

neyed topics of practical morality. What I had chiefly in view
was to show, that, even among those duties which have a refer-
ence to mankind, there are several which cannot be resolved
into that of benevolence.
The which I have mentioned are all independent of
duties
any particular relation between us and other men. But there
are a great variety of other duties resulting from such relations
the duties (for example) of Friendship and of Patriotism,
besides those relative duties which moralists have distinguished
by the titles of Economical and Political. To attempt an
enumeration of these, would lead into the details of practical
Ethics.
 [PABT U.J— OF THE DUTIES WHICH RESPECT OURSELVES.

CHAPTER IV.

GENERAL REMARKS OH THIS CLASS OF OUR DUTIES,

PrudencE; Temperance, and Fortitude, are no less requisite

for enabling us to discharge our social duties, than for securing

our own private happiness :
x
But as they do not necessarily
imply any reference to our fellow- creatures, they seem to belong
most properly to this third branch of virtue.

An and tendency of these qualities

illustration of the nature
and' of the means by which they are to be improved and con-
firmed, although a most important article of ethics, does not
lead to any discussions of so abstract a kind, as to require par-
ticular attention in a work of which brevity is a principal
object. It is sufficient here to remark, that, independently
all considerations of utility, either to ourselves or to others,
these qualities are approved of as right and becoming. Their
utility, at the same time, or rather necessity, for securing the
discharge of our other duties, adds greatly to the respect they
command, and is ground of the obligation
certainly the chief
we lie under, to cultivate the habits bv which thev are formed.
A steady regard, in the conduct of life, to the happiness and
perfection of our own nature, and a diligent study of the means
by which these ends may be attained, is another duty belong-
ing to this branch of virtue. It is a duty so important and

1 ••
He who is qualified to promote Coward." Ettay on the Histo
the welfare of mankind I .-. Fer- N
• ' -
vi.

gnson, ''
is neithor a B I 1. nor a
 284 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWEKS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

comprehensive, that it leads to the practice of all the rest, and

is therefore entitled to a very full and particular examination

in a system of Moral Philosophy. Such an examination, while

it leads our thoughts
" to the end and aim of our being," will
again bring under our review the various duties already con-
sidered and by showing how they all conspire in recommend-
;

ing the same dispositions, will illustrate the unity of design in

the human constitution, and the benevolent wisdom displayed
in its formation. Other subordinate duties, besides, which it

would be tedious enumerate under separate titles, may thus

to
be placed in a light more interesting and agreeable.

SECT. I.— OF THE DUTY OF EMPLOYING THE MEANS WE POSSESS

TO SECURE OUR OWN HAPPINESS.

According to Dr. Hutcheson, our conduct, so far as it is

influenced by self-love, is never the object of moral approbation.

Even a regard to the pleasures of a good conscience he consi-
dered as detracting from the merit of those actions which it

encourages us to perform.
That the principle of self-love (or, in other words, the desire
of happiness) is neither an object of approbation nor of blame, is

sufficiently obvious. It is inseparable from the nature of man

as a rational and a sensitive being. It is, however, no less ob-

vious, on the other hand, that this desire, considered as a prin-

ciple of action, has by no means an uniform influence on the

conduct. Our animal appetites, our affections, and the other
inferior principles of our nature, interfere as often with self-love
as with benevolence, and mislead us from our own happiness as

much as from the duties we owe to others.

In these cases every spectator pronounces, that we deserve to
suffer for our folly and indiscretion ; and we ourselves, as soon
as the tumult of passion is over, feel in the same manner.
Nor is this remorse merely a sentiment of regret for having
missed that happiness which we might have enjoyed. We are
dissatisfied, not only with our condition, but with our conduct ;
 PART II — TO OfESELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 1.) 235

— with our having forfeited by our own imprudence what we

1
might have attained.
It is true that we do not feel so warm an indignation against
the neglect of private good, as against perfidy, cruelty, and in-
justice. The reason probably is, that imprudence commonly
carries its own punishment along with it and our resentment ;

is disarmed by pity. Indeed, as that habitual regard to his

own happiness, which every man feels, except when under the
influence of some violent appetite, is a powerful check on im-
prudence, it was less necessary to provide an additional punish-
ment for this vice in the indignation of the world.
From the principles now stated, it follows, that, in a person
who believes in a future state, the criminality of every bad
action is aggravated by the imprudence with which it is

accompanied.
It follows, also, that the punishments annexed by the civil
magistrate to particular actions render the commission of them
more criminal than it would otherwise be insomuch, that if ;

an action, in itself perfectly indifferent, were prohibited by

some arbitrary law, under a severe penalty, the commission of
that action (unless we were called to it by some urgent consi-
deration of duty) would be criminal, not merely on account of
the obedience which a subject owes to established authority,
but on account of the regard which every man ought to feel for

his life and reputation. To forge the handwriting of another

with a fraudulent intention is undoubtedly a crime, indepen-
dently of positive institutions ; and it becomes still more
criminal in a commercial countrv like ours, on account of the
extensive mischiefs which may arise from it. It is a crime,
however, not of greater magnitude than many other kinds qIl

commercial fraud that might be mentioned. If the King, for

example, grants his patent to a subject for a particular inven-
tion,and another counterfeits it, and makes use of his name,
stamp, and coat of arms, he not only injures an individual, but
imposes on the public. Abstracting, therefore, from positive
law. the criminality of the latter act is fully as great as that of
- M Butler's Dissertation on the Natwrt of Virtue.
286 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

the former. As the law, however, has made the one act capital,
and the other not, but only subjected the person who commits
it damages to the individual he has injured, the
to pecuniary
forgery of a deed becomes incomparably more criminal in a
moral view than the counterfeit of a patent invention. good A
man, indeed, will neither do the one nor the other. But the
man who adds to a fraudulent disposition an imprudent disre-
gard to his own life and character, is undoubtedly the more
guilty of the two, and meets his fate with much less sympathy
from others than he would receive, if he had committed the
same act without knowing its consequences.

SECT. IT. — OF HAPPINESS. SYSTEMS OF THE GRECIAN SCHOOLS

ON THE SUBJECT.

The most superficial observation of life is sufficient to con-

vince us, that Happiness is not to be attained by giving every
appetite and desire the gratification they demand ; and that it

is necessary for us to form to ourselves some plan or system of

conduct, in subordination to which all other objects are to be
pursued.
To ascertain what this system ought to be, is a problem
which has employed the speculations of philosophers.
in all ages
Among the ancients, the question concerning the Sovereign
Good was the principal subject of controversy which divided
the schools ; and it was treated in such a manner as to involve
almost every other question of ethics. The opinions main-
tained with respect to by some of their sects, comprehend
it

many of the most important truths to which the inquiry leads,

and leave little to be added, but a few corrections and limita-
tions of their conclusions.
These opinions may be all reduced to three ; those of the
Epicureans, of the Stoics, and of the Peripatetics And, indeed, :

it does not seem possible to form a conception of any scheme of

happiness which may not be referred to one or other of these

three systems.
 PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§2.) 287

[Subsect.] I. — The fundamental principle of the Epicurean

system was, that bodily pleasure and pain were the sole ultimate
objects of desire and aversion.
These were desired and shunned
on their own account; every thing else from its tendency to pro-
cure the one of these, or to save us from the other. Power (for ',

example,) riches, reputation, even the virtues themselves, were

not desirable for their own sake, but were valuable merely as
being instrumental to procure us the objects of our natural
desires. " They who place the sovereign good in virtue alone,
and who, dazzled by words, overlook the intentions of nature,
will be delivered from this greatest of all errors, if they will
only listen to Epicurus. As to these rare and excellent quali-
ties on which you set so high a value, who is there that would

consider them as objects either of praise or of imitation, unless

from a belief that they are instrumental in adding to the sum
of our pleasures ? For as we prize the medical art, not on its
own account, but as subservient to^ the preservation of health,
and the art of the pilot, not for the skill he displays, but as it
diminishes the dangers of navigation, so also xcisdom, which is

the art of living, would be coveted by none if it were altogether

unprofitable, whereas, now, it is an object of general pursuit,
from a persuasion that it both guides us to our best enjoyments,
and points out to us the most effectual means for their attain-
ment." 1
In the passage which immediately follows this quotation,
Cicero proceeds to state particularly the reasonings of Epicurus
concerning the different virtues, which he has done not only in
a manner extremely pleasing and interesting, but completely
satisfactory. Indeed I do not know of anything more valuable

1
" Qui summum bonum in una virtute sed bonae valetudinis causa probamus ;

ponunt, et splendore nominis capti, quid et gubernatoris ars, quia bene navigandi
natura postulet, non intelligunt, errore rationem habet, utilitate non arte lau-
maxinio si Epicurura audire voluerint datur ; sic sapientia, quae ars vivendi
liberabuntur. Istoe enim vestrae exiraiee, putanda est,non expeterqtur, si nihil

pulchraeque virtutes, nisi voluptatem efficeret : nunc expetitur, quod est tan-
efficerent, quis eas aut laudabiles ant quam artifex conquirendae et compar-
expetendas arbitraretur? Ut enim andae voluptatis." — Cicero, De Finibvs,
medicorum scientiam non ipsina artis, I. xiii.
 288 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

that the ancients have left us, than these philosophical works
of Cicero, considered as authentic records of the ethical dis-
1
quisitions of the Grecian schools.
All the pleasures and pains of the mind (according to Epi-
curus) are derived from the recollection and anticipation of
bodily pleasures and pains ; but this recollection and anticipa-
tion he considered as contributing much more to our happiness

or misery on the whole, than the pleasures and pains them-

selves. His philosophy was indeed directed chiefly to inculcate
this truth, and to withdraw our solicitude from the pleasures
and pains themselves which are not in our power, to the re-
gulation of our recollections and anticipations, which depend
upon ourselves. He placed happiness, therefore, in ease of
body and tranquillity of mind, but much more in the latter
than in the former, insomuch that he affirmed a wise man
might be happy in the midst of bodily torments. "Hear,"
says Cicero, " the language of Epicurus on his deathbed. Epi-
curus to Hermachus, greeting. While I am passing the last
day of my life, and that the happiest, I write this epistle,
oppressed at the same time with so many and such acute
maladies, that it is scarcely possible to conceive that my suffer-
ings are susceptible of augmentation. All these, however, are
amply compensated by the mental joy I derive from the recol-
lection of the reasonings and discoveries of which I am the
author." 2 The concluding sentence of the letter does more
honour to Epicurus than any other part of it. " But you, as is

1
The Philosophical Works of Cicero of Law, Lord Cullen, and Lord
were so highly valued by Mr. Smith, Craig.
that, when he was Professor of Moral 2
Audi moriens quid dicat Epicurus.
Philosophy at Glasgow, he made the — "Epicurus Herraacho — Cum S. age-
Books De Finibus the Bubject of a remus (inquit) vitas beatum et eundem
separate course of lectures, which he supremum diom scribebamus ha?c.
gave annually to his students. Of Tanti autom morbi aderant vesicas et
these lectures, (in delivering which visccrum, at nihil ad eorum magnitu-
he trusted entirely to extempore elocu- dinem possit accedere. Compensabatur
tion,) I have heard some of his pupils tamen cum his omnibus animi lretitia,
who wcro very competent to judge, quam capiebam memoria rationum in-
npeak with enthusiastic admiration ;
ventorumqnenostrorum." De Finibus,
among others Mr. Millar, Professor II. xxx.
 a

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§ 2.) 289

worthy of your good will towards me and philosophy, let it be

your business to consider yourself as the guardian and protector
of the children of Metrodorus." 1
It is unnecessary for me to enter into a particular examina-
tion of these doctrines, which have been obviously suggested by
that excessive love of simplicity in the explanation of appear-
ances which has given rise to so many erroneous theories both
in physics and morals. The system of Epicurus, however, al-
though it places morality in a wrong foundation, and employs
a language with respect to happiness very liable to abuse, —
language which, (as Cicero remarks, " savours of nothing mag-
nificent, nothing generous,") 2 bears at least very honourable
testimony to the tendency of the virtues to promote happiness
even in this life, since he imagined it was from this tendency
they derived all And, accordingly, Mr. Smith
their value.
remarks, that " Cicero, the great enemy of the Epicurean sys-
tem, borrows from it his most agreeable proofs, that Virtue
alone is sufficient to secure happiness. And Seneca, though a
Stoic, the sect most opposite to that of Epicurus, yet quotes
this philosopher more frequently than any other."*
Epicurus himself is represented as a person of inoffensive
and even amiable manners. He is said to have taught his
philosophy in a garden, where he lived a temperate and quiet
life, enjoying what Thomson calls " the glad poetic ease of

—
Epicurus, seldom understood." He died at an advanced age,
and was so much beloved and esteemed by his followers, that
his birth-day was annually celebrated as a festival. His
private virtues, however, were probably in a great measure
the effect of a happy natural constitution ; for his philosophy,

besides destroying all those supports of morality that religion

affords, tended avowedly to recommend a life of indolent and
selfish indulgence, and a total abstraction from the concerns

1 " Sed tu ut dignuin est tua erga 2 " Nihil roagnificum, nihil generosum
me, et erga pbilosophiam voluntate ab sapit." [De Finibus, Lib. I. c. vii.]
adolescentulo suscepta, fac ut Metrodori * [Tlieory of Moral Sentiments, Vol.
tueare liberos." — (Ibid.) [The substance II. p. 305, sixth edition. Part VII.
of] the same letter is to be found in Dio- sect. ii. chap. 4; in the older editions,
genes Laertius, Lib. X. [§§ xix. xx.] Part VI. sect. ii. chap. 4.]

VOL. VII.
290 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

and duties of the world. Accordingly we find that many of his

disciples brought so much discredit on their by the principles,

dissoluteness of their lives, that the word Epicurean came

gradually to be understood as characteristical of a person de-
voted to sensual gratifications. It is worthy of remark, too,

that was from the speculative opinions of this sect that the
it

looseness of their moral principles arose or rather, the former ;

were inculcated with a view to the justification of the latter.

Such was the reasoning of Trimalchio, (in Petronius,) who,

when a servant, had brought into the banquet a silver skeleton
and set it on the table, exclaimed,
" Heu, heu nos miseros quam totus homuncio nil
! est
Sic erimus cuncti, postquam nos auferet Orcus
Ergo vivamus, dum licet esse, bene."

The same sentiment is well expressed by Cowley in an imi-

tation of Anacreon.

" Crown me with roses whilst I live,

Now your wines and ointments give ;

After death I nothing crave ;

All are Stoics in the grave."*

The which these principles had on the manners of

influence
the later Romans has been remarked by many writers and it ;

is not a little curious that it was clearly foreseen ages before

by their virtuous and enlightened progenitors. This fact,

which has not been sufficiently attended to, deserves the serious
consideration of those who are disposed to call in question the
effect of speculative opinions on national character. I shall
make no apology, therefore, for entering into some slight details
upon the subject.
It was in the year of Rome 471, and during the consulate
of Fabricius, that the Romans seem to have received the first
notice of the Epicurean doctrines. At that period the Taren-
tincs had the address to instigate the Samnites, and almost all
the other Italian states, to take arms against the Republic, and

* [\\\< might think all of those, &e., of Solomon, \\. 1-9. Sec also Isaiah xxii.

only feeble pArapliruei of The Wisdom 13; and 1 Corinthians xv. 32. Ed.]
 PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 2.) 291

also prevailed on Pyrrhus, King of Epirus, to give them his

assistance. In the course of the war, Fabricius, with two other
persons of high rank, were sent to Pyrrhus's court, to treat with
him about an exchange of prisoners and it was at a public
;

entertainment given to them upon that occasion that Cineas,

his minister and favourite, gave the Koman ambassadors a
general idea of the philosophical principles which Epicurus
had begun Athens about twenty years before.
to teach at
The effect which this conversation had on the minds of the
Koman ambassadors is an instructive fact in the history of
philosophy. We are often desirous to know how a particular
opinion would strike a man of plain understanding the first

time was proposed to him. It is an experiment, however,

it

that we have but seldom an opportunity of making, as it is

impossible to make the vulgar comprehend the terms of a
speculative controversy, and as the judgments of the learned
are commonly in some degree warped by education. An
opinion, however absurd, that we have been accustomed to
hear from infancy, and with which we connect the names of
men eminent and knowledge, even although we
for genius
should reject it as erroneous, may still have some influence in
unsettling our notions, and certainly will not appear to us so
palpably ridiculous as it would do to a person to whom it is
altogether new. The rage of disputation which prevailed in
Greece seems in this way to have hurt the understandings of
some of their best philosophers and the case is but too similar
;

with many in modern Europe. It is curious, therefore, to con-

sider the light in which the philosophy of Epicurus appeared
to Fabricius and his friends ;
—
men of cultivated minds, and at
the same time unperverted by the refinements of sophistry, and
perfectly acquainted, both from their own experience and the
observation of their countrymen, with those practical principles
which are favourable and hero'c virtue. With respect
to active
to this point Cicero has enabled us to form a judgment from
the following anecdote, which he has recorded in his Treatise
on Old Age.
" I have frequently heard from some of my friends, who were
292 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

much my seniors," says Cato to Scipio and Laelius, " a tradi-

tionary anecdote concerning Fabricius. They assured me, that,
in the early part of their life, they were told by certain very
old men of their acquaintance, that when Fabricius was am-
bassador at the court of Pyrrhus he expressed great astonish-
ment him by Cineas of a philosopher at
at the account given
Athens, who maintained that the love of pleasure was uni-
versally the leading motive of all human actions. My informer
added, that, when Fabricius related this fact to M. Curius and
Titus Coruncanius, they both joined in wishing that Pyrrhus
and the whole Samnite nations might become converts to this
extraordinary doctrine, as the people who were infected with
such unmanly principles could not fail, they thought, of proving
an easy conquest to their enemies. M. Curius had been
inti-

mately connected with Publius Decius, who, in his fourth con-

sulate, (which was five years before the former entered upon
that office,) gloriously sacrificed his life to the preservation of
his country. This generous patriot was personally known both
to Fabricius and to Coruncanius ; and they were convinced, by
what they experienced in their own breasts, as well as by the
illustrious example of Decius, that there is in certain actions
an intrinsic rectitude and obligation which, with a noble con-
tempt of what the world calls pleasure, every great and generous
mind will steadily keep in view, as a sacred rule of conduct,
1
and as the chief concern of life."

To this anecdote it may not be improper to add another

which occurs in a later period of the Roman history. In the
year of Rome 599, the Athenians sent to that city a deputation
of three of their principal philosophers, at the head of whom
was Carneades, a celebrated patron of the Academical sect.

While the ambassadors were waiting for their answer. Car-

neades amused himself in displaying his ingenuity and elo-
quenee to tie Roman youth, by endeavouring to prove that
justice and injustice derived their origin from positive institu-
tions,and that there was no foundation for a distinction
between them in the nature o( man. The following day,
liuotlri Translation of Cicero ( )n Old Age. [In the original, cap. xiii.
J
 PAST IL —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IT. OP HAFPDUBBL (§2.) 293

according to the practice of his he took up the opposite sect,

side of the question, and attempted to refute his former reason-
i-e= '-
'-'- '—- ------ ~"
- rrf.5^1: :_ :-;:'i ........ i- _ '.
-. -

so apprehensive of the oonseqnences of unsettling the opinions

of his countrymen on points of so important and sacred a
nature, that he never rested till the ambassadors receiTed their

_>735z:t ZZ — In :rr.:ii:::r. :: ::: EririrfiL i:«::::zfi

i.rriij s:.i:-i :i r.^fi :i-=
:r.i siz'r:: ::" \\: :::^v '.':.- ?:::::
supreme good in Rectitude of conduct) without any regard to
the event. They did not. however, as has been often supposed,
:r::mirii :.z iiiirVrriiT :: rrrerLil v r::s. ;: i ..:- ;: :_- :

~ and apathv.
a
. On the contrarv. thev taught that nature
• i

pointed oat to us certain objects of choice and of rejection, and

amongst these some to be more chosen and avoided than others

cording to their intrinsic value. They admitted that heah

:: ':- T:i:irz-. i :: -::£:. — s. ::;'.r- :; p: T -~7 : ~'-i : : \ ':-:
"ir :.i::l". :: : :: rrleiis. :: .:: :::\z.'.:~ :: :irir .. i"-1

and they allowed, nay, they recommended, the most stre

tended these objects should be pursued not as the consth

of oar happiness, but because we believe it to be agreea
nature that we should pursue them ; and that, therefore,
we have done our utmost, we should regard the evei

IV:i i- z-: -y : -,:-

:"- : :: :- :•:.;-

The sT&em of monk genenlhr m- ami aot in maj mental i i ii I oa

:-- \k~. : . Z: :--.-- :l: :. li'r ':::: :': — :":v.-t- •..::. riirv: :':: •- =

borrowed hum Ariatippaw, who ako tern of Epiewna.— Frtor PM«- U. 1*7.
taaght hippiaiai nawMtril in [lib. IL § ST. «ag." TW Efc of Epi-
:•:.;; ;•
:"
that
T ^ ;•-_ ; _: .: .: : - .
.'. - .----•:_- :e: :t. :: — ~ X:- r.-_:.-

?:.- S :_.-.'.-. .,--.- :'. : 'i - r:::r :: :; ^h:: -i: •":::::•: :: -,- r

was altogether
appfrizig hat principles bk M and bj Ray ie
norajhy, Hexnec-
kbon.-<7ieoryT Ac_,YoLILp,268, cias
jt

AH
«—
ark— shook elided, Jacob
Boa aa, De Htm 4 mtMo kma Efi- n
fch eihi».; Indeed, we bare the tea-
of Diogenes Inertia* tbat Aria- «»"', which bas oerer alien ta e -
 "

294 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

That this is a fair representation of the stoical doctrine has

been fully proved by Mr. Harris in the very learned and judi-
cious notes on his Dialogue concerning Happiness ;* a per-
formance which, although not entirely free from Mr. Harris's
peculiarities of thought and style, does him so much honour,
both as a writer and a moralist, that we cannot help regretting,
while we peruse it, that he should so often have wasted his
ingenuity and learning upon scholastic subtilties, equally in-
applicable to the pursuits of science, and to the business of life.
" The word TrdOos" he observes, " which we usually render
a passion, means, in the a perturbation, and is
Stoic sense,
always so translated by Cicero ;" and the epithet airaQi)^ when
applied to the wise man, does not mean an exemption from
passion, but an exemption from that perturbation which is
founded on erroneous opinions. The testimony of Epictetusf is
express to this purpose. "I am not," says he, " to be apathetic
like a statue, but I am withal to observe relations both the
natural and adventitious ; as the man of religion, as the son, as
the brother, as the father, as the citizen." And immediately
before he tells us, " That a perturbation in no other way ever
arises but either when a desire is frustrated, or an aversion falls

into that which it should avoid." " In which passage/' says

Harris, " it is observable that he does not make either desire,
or aversion, 7ra6rj, or perturbations, but only the cause of per-
turbations when erroneously conducted."
From a great variety of passages, which it is unnecessary for
me to transcribe, Harris concludes, that " the Stoics, in the

Man, included rational desire, aver-

character of their Virtuous
sion, and exultation included love and parental affection,
;

friendship, and a general benevolence to all mankind ami ;

considered it as a duty arising from our very nature not to

neglect the welfare of public society, but to be ever ready, ac-
cording to our rank, to act either as the magistrate or as the
private citizen.
Nor did they exclude wealth from among the objects of
choice. The Stoic ffecato, in his Treatise of Offices quoted by
* [Note xlviii. World, 4to Vol.
e I. I. pp. 178-181.] f [Arriani, Lib. III. c. ii.J
 — —

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§ 2.) 295

Cicero, tells us, " That a wise man, while he abstains from
doing anything contrary to the customs, laws, and institutions
of his country, ought to attend to his own fortune. For we do
not desire to be rich for ourselves only, but for our children,
relations, and friends, and especially for the commonwealth,
inasmuch as the riches of individuals are the wealth of a
state." 1 — " Nay," says Cicero, " if the wise man could mend his
condition by adding to the amplest possessions the poorest,
2
meanest utensil, he would in no degree contemn it."

From these quotations it sufficiently appears that the stoical

system, so far from withdrawing men from the duties of life,

was eminently favourable to active virtue. and dis- Its peculiar

tinguishing tenet was, that our happiness did not depend on
the attainment of the objects of our choice, but on the part
that we acted ; but this principle was inculcated not to damp
our exertions, but to lead us to rest our happiness only on cir-

cumstances which we ourselves could command. " If I am

going to sail," says Epictetus,* " I choose the best ship and the
best pilot, and I wait for the fairest weather that my circum-
stances and duty will allow. Prudence and propriety, the
principles which the gods have given me for the direction of
my conduct, require this of me, but they require no more and ;

if, notwithstanding, a storm arises, which neither the strength

of the vessel nor the skill of the pilot are likely to withstand,
I give myself no trouble about the consequences. All that I
had to do is done already. The directors of my conduct never
command me to be miserable, to be anxious, desponding, or
afraid. Whether we are to be drowned or come to a harbour
is the business of Jupiter, not mine. I leave it entirely to his
determination, nor ever break my rest with considering which

1 " Sapientis esse, nihil contra mores, 2 "

Si ad illam vitam, quae cum virtute
leges, instituta facientem, habere ra- degatur, ampulla aut 6trigilis accedat,
tionem rei familiaris. Neque enim so- sumpturum sapientem earn vitam po-
lum nobis divites esse volumus, sed tius, cui haec adjecta sint." De Fini-
liberis, propinquis, amicis, maximeque bus, IV. xii.

reipublicae ; singulorum enim facultates

et copiae divitiee sunt civitatis." De * [Arriani Dissert. Epict., Lib. II.

Officii*, III. xv. cap. v.]

296 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

way he is likely to decide it, but receive whatever comes with

equal indifference and security/' 1
We may observe farther, iu favour of this noble system, that
the scale of desirable objects which it exhibited was peculiarly
calculated to encourage the social virtues. It represented in-
deed (in common with the theory of Epicurus) self-love as the
great spring of human actions but in the application of this
;

erroneous principle to practice, its doctrines were favourable to

the most enlarged, nay, to the most disinterested benevolence.
It taught that the prosperity of two was preferable to that of
one ; that of a city to that of a family and that of our country
;

to all partial considerations. It was upon this very principle,

added to a sublime sentiment of piety, that it founded its chief
argument for an entire resignation to the dispensations of Pro-
vidence. As all events are ordered by perfect wisdom and
goodness, the Stoics concluded, that whatever happens is cal-

culated to produce the greatest good possible to the universe in

general. As it is agreeable to nature, therefore, that we should
prefer the happiness of many
and of all to that of
to a few,
many, they concluded that every event which happens is pre-
cisely that which we ourselves would have desired, if we had
been acquainted with the whole scheme of the Divine adminis-
tration. " In what sense," says Epictetus,* " are some things

said to be according to our nature, and others contrary to it ?

It is in that sense in which we consider ourselves as separated
and detached from all other things. For thus it may be said
to be the nature of the foot to be always clean. But if you
consider it as a foot, and not as something detached from the
rest of the body, it must behove it sometimes to trample in the
dirt, and sometimes to tread upon thorns, and sometimes, too,

to be cut off for the sake of the whole body and if it refua h :

this it is no longer a foot. Tims, too, ought we to conceive

with respect to ourselves. What are you? A man. If you
rider yourself as something separated and detached, it is

1
Smith'! Traaeletion. Theory of In the older editions, Pert VL sect. ii.

M,nd Sentiments, 6th edit Vol. II pp. chip. i.J

I [Pert VII. Met. ii. chep. l. |
Irrieiti Diuert. Epiet. L. II. c. .]
 PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 2.) 297

agreeable to your nature to live to old age, to be rich, to be in

health. But if you consider yourself as a man, and as a part of
the whole, upon account of that whole it will behove you some-
times to be in sickness, sometimes to be exposed to the incon-
veniency of a sea voyage, sometimes to be in want, and at last
perhaps to die before your time. Why then do you complain ?

Don't you know that by doing so, as the foot ceases to be a

foot, so you cease to be a man ?"*
"World/' says Antoninus, f " all things are suitable to
me which are suitable to thee. Nothing 4s too early or too late
for me which is seasonable for thee. All is fruit to me which
thy seasons bring forth. From thee are all things ; in thee are
all things ; for thee are all things. Shall any man say, be-
loved city of Cecrops ! and wilt not thou say, beloved city
of God r
1

In this tendency of the Stoical philosophy to encourage the

active and social virtues, it was most remarkably distinguished
from the system of Epicurus. The latter, indeed, seems (as it
was first taught) to have been the reverse of that system of sen-
suality and of libertinism, to which the epithet Epicurean is
commonly applied in modern times but it was at best a sys- ;

tem of selfishness and prudent indulgence, which placed happi-

ness in a seclusion from care, and in an indifference to all the
concerns of mankind. By the Stoics, on the contrary, virtue
was supposed to consist in the affectionate performance of every
good office towards their fellow-creatures, and in full resignation
to Providence for everything independent of their own choice.
It is remarked by Dr. Ferguson, that " their different schemes
of theology clearly pointed out their opposite plans of morality
also. Both admitted the existence of God. But to one, the
Deity was a retired essence enjoying itself and far removed
from any work of creation and Providence.
" The other considered the Deity as the principle of existence

* [Smith's Translation. Theory of f [De liebus Sais, Lib. IV. sect.

Moral Sentiments, Vol. II. p. 220. xxiii.]
Part VII. sect. ii. chap. 1. In the 1
Smith's Translation. Theory, &c,
older editions, Part VI. sect. ii. chap. I.] Vol. II. p. 254.
298 PHILOSOPHY OF -THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

and of order in the universe, from whom all intelligence pro-

ceeds, and to whom all intelligence will return ; whose power
is the irresistible energy of wisdom and of goodness, ever present
and ever active ; bestowing on man the faculty of reason and
the freedom of choice, that he may learn, in acting for the
general good, to imitate the Divine nature ; and that, in respect

of events independent of his will, he may acquiesce in the

determination of Providence."
" In conformity with these principles, one sect recommended
seclusion from all the cares of family or state. The other re-
commended an active part in all the concerns of our fellow-
creatures, and the steady exertion of a mind benevolent, coura-
geous, and temperate. Here the sects essentially differed, not
in words, as has sometimes been alleged, but in the views which
they entertained of a plan for the conduct of human life. The
Epicurean was a deserter from the cause of his fellow-creatures,
and might justly be reckoned a traitor to the community of
nature, of mankind, and even of his country."
"
The Stoic enlisted himself as a willing instrument in the
hand of God for the good of his fellow-creatures. For himself,
the cares and attentions which this object required were his
pleasures, and the continued exertion of a beneficent affection,
his ivelfare and his prosperity." 1
Such was the philosophy of the Stoics " a philosophy," ;
—
says Mr. Smith, " which affords the noblest lessons of magna-
nimity, is the best school of heroes and patriots ; and to the
greater part of whose precepts there can be no other objection
but this honourable one, that they teach us to aim at a perfec-
tion altogether beyond the reach of human nature."*
I cannot, however, help remarking, that this is by no means
an Objection to their system ; for it is the business of the
moralist to exhibit a standard far above the reach of our pos-
sible attainments. If he did otherwise, he must recommend
nnl imperfections, "It has sometimes happened," says
1
/V ''' ][" r «l ""</ Political Roman II istor>/,c\\.x\Vri.[B.m.ch.iv.]
pp. 4, 6 [Part II. chap. • [Theory, ta, Part I. sect in. chap.
i. wit i Bm ilao Dr. Ferguson'^ B, oldtr edition only.]
 — — —

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 2.) 299

Quintilian, speaking of eloquence and the fine arts, and the ob-
servation holds equally with respect to every other pursuit,
" that great things have been accomplished by him who was

striving at what was above his power." 1 To the same purpose

it is well said by Seneca :
" It is the mark of a generous spirit
to aim at what is lofty ; to attempt what is arduous ; and ever
to keep in view what it is impossible for the most splendid
2
talents to accomplish."
The Stoics themselves were sensible of the weaknesses inse-
parable from humanity. " Neither indeed," says Cicero, speak-
ing the language of a Stoic, " when the two Decii or the two
Scipios are mentioned as brave men, nor when Aristides or Fa-
bricius are denominated just, is an example of fortitude in the
former, or of justice in the latter, proposed as exactly conform-
able to the precepts of wisdom. For none of them were wise
in that sense in which we apply the epithet to the wise man.
Nor were Cato and Lselius such, although" they were honoured
with the appellation. No, not even the Seven Wise Men of Greece,
who have been so widely celebrated, although, from the habitual
discharge of middle duties, {ex mediorum officiorumfrequentia,)
3
all of them bore a certain similitude to the ideal character."

Seneca also mentions it as a general confession of the greatest

philosophers, that the doctrine they taught was not " quemad-
modum sed quemadmodum vivendum est." 4
ipsi viverent, " I
know," says Epictetus, " that I shall not be Milo, and yet I
neglect not my body ; nor Croesus, and yet I neglect not my
estate ; nor in general do we desist from the proper care of any-
thing through despair of arriving at that which is supreme." 5
1 " Evenit non nunquam, ut aliquid petitur exemplum. Nemo enim horum
grande inveniat, qui semper quasrit quod sic sapiens est, ut sapientem volumus
nimium est." Instit. II. xii. intelliiji. Nee ii qui sapientes habiti
2 "
Generosa res est conari alta, — sunt et nominati, M. Cato et C. Lselius,
tentare etmente majora concipere, quam sapientes fuerunt; quidem sep-
ne illi

quaa etiam ingenti animo adornatis effici tern : Sed ex mediorum officiorum fre-
possint." De Vita Beata, c. xx. quentia, 6imilitudinem quandam gere-
*" Nee vero, cum duo Decii, aut duo bant, speciemque sapientum." De
Scipiones, fortes viri commemorantur, Cfficiis, Lib. III. c. iv.

aut cum Fabricius, Aristidesve Justus . ,-.

T7 p
. . ....
, ;„. r •
t •
* De 7
Vita Beata, c. xvm.
normnatur ; aut ab lllis tortitudinis, aut
6
ab his justitiae tamquam a sapieniibus, Arriani Dissert. Epict. Lib. I. c. ii.
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

In the writings, indeed, of some of the Stoics, we meet with

some absurd and violent paradoxes about the perfect felicity
of the wise man on the one hand, and the equality of misery
among all those who fall short of this ideal character on the
other. " As all the actions of the wise man were perfect, so all

those of the man who had not arrived at this supreme wisdom
were faulty and equally faulty. As one truth could not be more
true, nor one falsehood more false than another, so an honour-
able action could not be more honourable, nor a shameful one
more shameful than another. As, in shooting at a mark, the
man who had missed it by an inch had equally missed it with
him who had done so by a hundred yards, so the man who, in
what appeared to us the most insignificant action, had acted
improperly, and without a sufficient reason, was equally faulty
h him who had done so in what appears to us the most im-
portant ; the man who has killed a cock (for example) impro-
perly,and without a sufficient reason, with him who had
murdered his father*
i:
bowever," continues Mr. Smith, by any means
probable that these paradoxes formed a part of the original
?ip3es :: Si M taught by Zeno and Clean thes. It

-inch more probable that they were added

by their to it

dwriplp Chrysippus. whose genius seems to have been more

far systematizing the doctrines of his preceptors, and
"

ador . the imposing appendages of artificial defi-

ns and divisions, than for imbibing the sublime spirit
which they breathed. Such a man may very easily be supposed
illy some animated and exaggerated

- masters in describing the happiness of the

unhappiness of whatever fell

vhese piaradoxes v | adopted by the most rational

we have complete evidence ;

"drtues
[co^rjeorra] which are attained 1 cients in wisd
 PAST IL— TO OOTHBLTm CHAP. IT. —0* HRUM (} Z) 301

[zar mpAifuirmy) bat dstiagnkfaed by tie epithet! of fr&pr.

Sack virtaes are called by Cicero ojfe&i, and by Seneca ««-

i.-r =&:: v. : i.- -: '.e*i ::.- - ,-o ;: i :.«-... i: .v. *> ..>-
;
y_.- -;..*

7:.;= i ;•'.-'. '17 i:~r :• .: :.-. ..r. '-.e v. -.7-.-vr:. v ...

-* ^.: v:v:

:.: i:: *.— ~r:;:- :: \:.~. v..7::L •y.':->7. 7-. ;::-.......• 7. *.„ .
*

rlV;li V. V.-: .1 . 7 '.? : .A ...'.;:.> I ;.;. *.'.^ V. '.,-.'. 7 <.:..:A

~~ '.
ir. \.->s. -.::.:- .:::_•. >.-_;.»>..<. ..^ v. *;••.. .v^ v~ v..i ; -s,

'.?--. >;-.:. .-*: :.-. -/.

-
— n^-.:- -.; \v: ;.*: -._..:.• . :.,::.::^.:^ v:

*
-^ *liir= «;.--i v...-. c -'-:!.>.<'. 7-~ ij'.se ioi >'.'--"..- . '7 -•'."..-:: » v.

:i- vi:_-_e -.7 ..-::. v..-.-:. :.•:: :..i>. ::.: ..-. i.-. :•...:. .
~_"~- ::-
'ss.-s..: i.i: .:.: 7:.-. :...."-:'•: .: 7" ..'".'. 7..*"..'.^ \ s-.

-:'„;-::: — .-.-. - ^ v'^7.7 ~ -,. --- -.^ 7- :

-->;•: ,:.

i-.- -.: ,-; 7: ::.^. :

,:-> w: sa sss. ...»i,x. -*.. ..,

7r7~i: :-; _ 77.:= 7 >/;•:•;•-: v ::- 7 .. -. v.- :..v. .-;: i. v _-. ;..>-

::-::-:.;•:.- ~ >- : -.:>. :7.t: :-.-. ^: 7.::^: ..-...-•: .a

:— n-.*- ^i.-. ..." -:.•- .;_ ;....-. *l7. -v. .

_ '..: :.:' ::--.:-
J
pfriotitj or dtmarnkm, best either wpletHr to egtepate ail
.:.- -:ie:_ies ;.- ^...:: -^ -_-.: .^.- '.r-e!. v. :-:..::- *..-.^m „.v.
-, -„-^ ::' i.. -:„>-—-.,: .: : .:_-,--. . ..,,:;. 7- --.,..-

:- .:' -.:.-:
,f^^: ;=:.- -.:'
'.:. .^. ,zr- vs. -::-'-. .: v. -:...:.

::' 7i:ii :.-. -.T .«;:7:a.7.^ ,--:. v..- i: n _-: ::.^.: :-- .-V.
that Terr eakmitr wiucik it bad m faqpw% wifctrJ «r«^
tempted to ioffict on its ueigfcbciirt la this timtfe&j

ir.i v., -:;-.;-: ,^;- ;** v. :- :.:.-.'.-:. ::.•-: --

:.: l^; n.^ :>.i^ ~.-±l ~: :s.:„- -.:.: :^:q
-
.- -,, i- i: *.-* :
- , ;•; .v.,* ::.- v.^
bc»t0e a^ fariow JKAio^tobeuailiB^iltotiteaMrtcrati

.' .:'
:7e :7.j :: ^1..:;. -.- "^.- i -—-rjLsr. -

.-;:••.:•: .: y.-.. - v. --— -ss-.: s. .:.s- -.

t
302 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

he should act when he has fallen into the hands of his enemies,
and is by them put to death in the most lingering tortures,
and amidst the insults and derisions of all the spectators, so a
Grecian patriot or hero could not avoid frequently employing
his thoughts in considering what he ought both to suffer and
todo in banishment, in captivity, when reduced to slavery,
when put to the torture, when brought to the scaffold. It was
the business of their philosophers to prepare the death-song
which the Grecian patriots and heroes might make use of on
the proper occasions and of all the different sects it must, I
;

think, be acknowledged, that the Stoics had prepared by far the

most animated and spirited song." 1
After all, it is impossible to deny that there is some founda-
tion for a censure which Lord Bacon has somewhere passed on
this celebrated sect. " Certainly," says he, " the Stoics bestowed

too much cost on death, and by their preparations made it

more fearful/'* At least, I suspect this may be the tendency

of some passages in their writings, in such a state of society as
that in which we live but in perusing them we ought always
;

to remember the circumstances of those men to whom they

were addressed, and which are so eloquently described in the
observations just quoted from Mr. Smith. The practical reflec-
tion which Bacon adds to this censure is invaluable, and is
strictly conformable to the spirit of the Stoical system, although
he seems to state it by way of contrast to their principles. " It
is as natural," says he, " to die as to be born ; and to a little
infant perhaps the one is as painful as the other. He that
DIES INAN EARNEST PURSUIT IS LIKE ONE THAT IS WOUNDED IN
HOT BLOOD, WHO FOR A TIME SCARCE FEELS THE HURT AND ;

THEREFORE, A MIND FIXED AND BENT UPON SOMEWHAT THAT IS

GOOD DOTH BEST AVERT THE DOLOURS OF DEATH."f
Upon the whole, notwithstanding the imperfections of this
tem, and the paradoxes which disgrace it in some accounts
ofil thai have descended to our times, it cannot be disputed,
that its leading doctrines are agreeable to the purest principles
1
T th ed. Vol. IL p. 28< * [Buoyt, Esiwy ii.]

NJ. t [luid.]
 * ;

TART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 2.) 303

of morality and religion. Indeed, they all terminate in one

maxim That we should not make the attainment of things
:

external an ultimate object, but place the business of life in

doing our duty, and leave the care of our happiness to him who
made us. Nor does the whole merit of these doctrines consist
in their purity. It is doing them no more than justice to say,
that they were more completely systematical in all their parts,
and more ingeniously, as well as eloquently, supported, than
any thing else that remains of ancient philosophy.
I must not conclude these observations on the Stoical system,
without taking notice of the practical effects it produced on
the characters of many of its professors. It was the precepts
of this school which rendered the supreme power in the hands
of Marcus Aurelius a blessing to the human race and which ;

secured the private happiness, and elevated the minds of Helvi-

dius and Thrasea under a tyranny by which their country was
oppressed. Nor must it be forgotten, that in the last struggles
of Roman liberty, while the school of Epicurus produced Caesar,
that ofZeno produced Cato and Brutus. The one sacrificed
mankind to himself; the others sacrificed themselves to man-
kind.
"... Hi mores, haec duri immota Catonia
Secta fuit, servare niodum, finemque tenere,
Naturamque sequi, patriseque impendere vitam
Nee sibi, sed toti genitum se credere mundo."

The sentiment of President Montesquieu on this subject is

well known. tt
Never," says he, " were any principles more
worthy of human nature, and more proper to form the good
citizen, than those of the Stoics and if I could for a moment ;

cease to recollect that I am a Christian, I should not be able to

hinder myself from ranking the destruction of the sect of Zeno
among the misfortunes that have befallen the human race." 2

1
Lucan, Phars. ii. 380. gens de bien, que celle des Stoiciens ;

et si je pouvois un moment cesser de

2 " Lesdiverses sectes de philosophic penser que je suis Chretien, je ne pour-
chez les anciens etoient des especes de roism'empecher de mettre la destruc-
religion. II n'y en a jamais eu dont tionde la secte de Zenon au nombre
les principes fussent plus dignes de des malheura du genre-humain." —
l'homme et plus propres a former des Esprit, des Loix, Liv. XXIV. chap. x.
304 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

[Subsect.] III. — The doctrine of the Peripatetics on this

subject appears to have coincided with that of the Pythagorean
school, who defined Happiness to be " the Exercise of virtue
in a prosperous life" (Xprjcris aperr)? ev eim^ca) ;* —a defini-

tion like several others transmitted to us from the same source,

which unites in a remarkable degree the merits of conciseness
and of philosophical precision.
In confirmation of this doctrine, the Pythagorean school
observed, that it was not the mere possession but the exercise
of virtue that made men happy. 1 And for the proper exercise

of virtue, they thought that good fortune was as necessary as

light is for the exercise of the faculty of sight. The utmost
length, accordingly, which they went was to say, that the
virtuous man in adversity was not miserable; whereas the
vicious and foolish were miserable in all situations of fortune.
In another passage they say, that the difference between God
and man is, that God is perfect in himself, and needs nothing
from without whereas the nature of man is imperfect and de-
;

fective, and dependent on external circumstances.. Although,

therefore, we possess virtue, that is but the perfection of one
part, namely, the mind ; but as we consist both of body and
mind, the body also must be perfect of its kind. Nor is that
alone sufficient : but the prosperous exercise of virtue requires
certain externals; such as wealth, reputation, friends, and,
above all, a well-constituted state ; for without that the rational

* [Xgciri; ifiraj iv ivrv%ix. These treatises, or parts of treatises, which we

are the words of Archytas in the frag- have under the names of Pythagorean
ment of his hook, Concerning a Good philosophers. The ingenious fabrica-
and Happy Man, (pp. 676, 678, Gale, tors (or fabricator) are indebted to Aris-
1688 ;) and in the fragment of his hook, totle, not Aristotle to the pretended
Conccrnim/ Moral Instruction, p. 096. authors. — Ed. \

!so the remaini of Efippodamne, 1

Befl the Fragments of this School,

n rn img Happine$$ pp. 661, 662;
l
published in Gale's Opuscula Mytho-
and ti. Eoryphamue, Ooneerning logioa, Phi/sica et Ethica. Amstel.
1 r all Die- p 667, seq. But in particular,
I to us
by Btobaraa, and collected for Mr. Stewart's reference, see the
by Thomai GkJe; bat the Ethical frag- fragment of the Pseudo-Archytas, p.
I
more nianitVstlv sjmri- 696 and of the Pseudo-Euryphamus,
;

ouh than the Physical and Logical p. i\6S.]

 PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 305

and social animal is imperfect, and unable to fulfil the purposes

of its nature.
The difference between the Peripatetics and Stoics in these
opinions is beautifully stated by Cicero, in a passage strongly
expressive of the elevation of his own character, as well as
highly honourable to the two sects, whose doctrines, while he
contrasts them with each other, he plainly considered as both
originating in the same pure and ardent zeal for the interests
of morality. " Pugnant Stoici cum Peripateticis alteri negant :

quidquam esse bonum nisi quod honestum sit alteri, pluri- ;

mum se et longe longeque plurimum tribuere honestati, sed

tamen et in corpore et extra esse quaedam bona. Et certamen
honestum, et disputatio splendida."*
On a general review of the preceding articles in this section,
it appears, (to use the words of Dr. Ferguson, [p. 298]) that
all these sects acknowledged the necessity of virtue, or allowed,
that, in every well-directed pursuit of happiness, the strictest
regard to morality was required. The Stoics alone maintained
that this regard itself was happiness ; or that to run the course
of an active, strenuous, wise, and beneficent mind, was itself the
very good which we ought to pursue.

SECT. III. —ADDITIONAL REMARKS ON HAPPINESS.

From the slight view now given of the systems of philoso-
phers with respect to the Sovereign Good, it may be assumed
as an acknowledged and indisputable fact, that happiness
arises chiefly from the mind. The Stoics undoubtedly ex-
pressed this too strongly when they said, that to a wise man
external circumstances are indifferent. Yet it must be con-
fessed, that happiness depends much less on these than is

commonly imagined ; and that, as there is no situation so

prosperous as to exclude the torments of malice, cowardice, and
remorse, so there none so adverse as to withhold the enjoy-
is

ments of a benevolent, resolute, and upright heart.

If, from the sublime idea of a perfectly wise and virtuous

* [De JFinibns, Lib. IT. cap. xxi.]

VOL. VIL U
306 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO MEN.

man, we descend to such characters as the world presents to us,

some important limitations of the Stoical conclusions become
necessary. Mr. Hume has justly remarked, that, "as in the
bodily system, a toothach produces more violent convulsions ot
pain than phthisis or a dropsy, so, in the economy of the mind,
although all vice be pernicious, yet the disturbance or pain is

not measured out by nature with exact proportion to the degree

of vice ; nor is the man of highest virtue, even abstracting
from external accidents, always the most happy. A gloomy
and melancholy disposition is certainly, to our sentiments, a
vice or imperfection but as it may be accompanied with a
;

great sense of honour and great integrity, it may be found in

very worthy characters ; though it is sufficient alone to im-
bitter life, and render the person afflicted with it completely
miserable. On the other hand, a selfish villain may possess a
spring and alacrity of temper, a certain gaiety of heart, which
is rewarded much beyond and when attended with
its merit ;

good fortune, will compensate for the uneasiness and remorse

arising from all the other vices."*
Abstracting even from these considerations, and supposing a
character as perfect as the frailty of human nature admits of,

various mental qualities, which have no immediate connexion

with moral desert, are necessary to insure happiness. In proof
of this remark, it is sufficient to consider, how much our tran-
quillity is liable to be affected.
1. By our Temper ;

2. By our Imagination ;

3. By our Opinions ; and,

4. By our Habits.
In all these respects the mind may be influenced to a great
degree, by original constitution, or by early education and ;

when this influence happens to be unfavourable, it is not to be

corrected at once by the precepts of philosophy. Much, how-
im r, may l>e done undoubtedly, in such instances, by our own
persevering efforts; and, therefore, the particulars now enum-
erated deserve our attention, not only from their connexion

[Estayt, Vol. I. Tart i. Kss. 18, The Sceptic]

 — ;

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 307

with the speculative question concerning the essentials of

happiness, but on account of the practical conclusions to which
the consideration of them may lead.

[Subsect.] I. Influence of the Temper on Happiness.

The word Temper is used in different senses. Sometimes
we apply to it the epithets gay, lively, melancholy, gloomy
on other occasions, the epithets, fretful, passionate, sullen, cool,
equable, gentle. we use it at present, to
It is in the last sense
denote the habitual state of a man's mind in point of irasci-
bility ; or, in other words, to mark the habitual predominance
of the benevolent or malevolent affections in his intercourse
with his fellow-creatures.
The connexion between an in-
this part of the character of
dividual, and the habitual state of his mind in point of happi-
ness, is obvious from what was formerly observed concerning
the pleasures and pains attached respectively to the exercise of
our benevolent and malevolent affections. As nature has
strengthened the social ties among mankind, by annexing a
secret charm to every exercise of good-will and of kindness, so
she has provided a check on all the discordant passions, by
that agitation and disquiet which are their inseparable con-
comitants. This is true even with respect to resentment, how
justly soever it may be provoked by the injurious conduct of
others. It is always accompanied with an unpleasant feeling,
which warns us, as soon as we have taken the necessary mea-
sures for our own security, to banish every sentiment of malice
from the heart. On the due regulation of this part of our con-
stitution, our happiness in life materially depends ; and there
is no part of it whatever where it is in our power, by our per-
severing efforts, to do more to cure our constitutional or our
acquired infirmities.
Kesentment was formerly distinguished into instinctive and
deliberate, the latter of which (it was observed) has always a
reference to the motives of the person against whom it is

directed, and implies a sense of justice, or of moral good or

evil.
 — ;

308 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

In some men the animal or instinctive impulse is stronger

than in others. Where this is the case, or where proper care
has not been taken in early education to bring it under restraint,
a quick or irascible temper is the consequence. This fault is

frequently observable in affectionate and generous characters,

and impairs their happiness, not so much by the effects it pro-
duces on their minds, as by the eventual misfortunes to which
it exposes them.
1
The sentiments of ill-will which such men
feel are only momentary, and the habitual state of their mind
is benevolent and happy ; but as their reason is the sport of
every accident, the best dispositions of the heart can at no time
give them any security that they shall not, before they sleep,
experience some paroxysm of insanity, which shall close all
their prospects of happiness for ever. A frequent and serious
consideration of the fatal consequences which may arise from
sudden and ungoverned passion, cannot fail to have some tend-
ency to check its excesses. It is an infirmity which is often
produced by some fault in early education by allowing children ;

to exercise authority over their dependents, and not providing

for them, in the opposition of their equals, a sufficient disci-
pline and preparation for the conflicts they may expect to
struggle with in future life.

When the animal resentment does not immediately subside,

it must be supported by an opinion of bad intention in its
object and, consequently, when this happens to an individual
;

so habitually as to be characteristic of his temper, it indicates

a disposition on his part to put unfavourable constructions on
the actions of others, (or as we commonly express it,) to take
things by the wrong handle. may pro-
In some instances this
ceed from a settled conviction of the worthlessness of mankind
but in general it originates in self- dissatisfaction, occasioned by

1
"Irascible men," Bays Aristotle, IV. cap.
— "more
v.) Cicero states this still
laoogfc moved to passion too suddenly, strongly in a letter to Atticus : Irri-
in immoderate degrees, and on impro- tabiles animos esse optimorum s«pe
pi r 001 LMoiiH, are yet easily pacified ; if horuinura, et eosdem placabiles et esse ;

!>o eooa angry they en also soon hanc agilitatem, ut ita dicam, molliti-
pleased, which n the beel circumstance amque natune plerumque bonitatis."
attending tin >w.Lib. Ad Atticum, Lib. 1. ep. xvii.
 PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 309

the consciousness of vice or which leads the person who

folly,

withdraw his attention from himself, by referring the

feels it to

causes of his ill-humour to the imaginary faults of his neigh-

bours. Such men do not wait till provocation is given them,
but look out anxiously for occasions of quarrel, creating to
themselves, by the help of imagination, an object suited to that
particular humour they wish to indulge ; and, when their re-
sentment is once excited, they obstinately refuse to listen to
anything that may be offered in the way of extenuation or
apology. In feeble minds this displays itself in peevishness,
which vents itself languidly upon any object it meets. In more
vigorous and determined minds it produces violent and bois-
terous passion. For, as Butler has well remarked, both of
these seem to be the operation of the same principle, appearing
in different forms, according to the constitution of the indivi-
dual. "In the one case, the humour discharges itself at once;
in the other it is continually discharging."
There is, too, a species of misanthropy which is sometimes
grafted on a worthy and benevolent heart. When the standard
of moral excellence we have been accustomed to conceive is

greatly elevated above the common attainments of humanity,

we are apt to become too difficult and fastidious (if I may use
the expression) in our moral taste ; or, in plainer language,
we become unreasonably censorious of the follies and vices of
the age in which we live. In such cases it may happen that
the native benevolence of the mind, by being habitually directed
towards ideal characters, may prove a source of real disaffection
and dislike to those with whom we associate. Such a disposi-
tion(when carried to an extreme) not only sours the temper,
and dries up all the springs of innocent satisfaction which
nature has so liberally provided for us in the common incidents
of life, but, by withdrawing a man from active pursuits,
1
renders all his talents and virtue useless to society. The great

1
A character of this description has ful moral tales. The former of these is
furnished to Moliere the subject of his universally known as the chef-d'azuvre
most finished comedy and to Marmon-
;
of the French stage ;
but the latter pos-
tel of one of his most agreeable and use- sesses also an uncommon degree of
 310 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

nurse and cherisher of this species of misanthropy, is solitary

contemplation ; and the only effectual remedy is society and

business, together with a habit of directing the attention
rather to the improvement of our own characters, than to a
jealous and suspicious examination of the motives which in-
fluence the conduct of our neighbours.
This last observation leads me to remark farther, that one
great cause of this perversion of our nature, is a very common
and fatal prejudice, which leads men to believe that the degree
of their own virtue is proportioned to the justness and the live-
liness of their moral feelings ; whereas in truth virtue consists
neither in liveliness of feeling, nor in rectitude of judgment,
but in an habitual regard to our sense of duty in the conduct
of life. To enlighten, indeed, our conscience with respect to
the part which we and to cultivate that
ourselves have to act,
quick and delicate sense of propriety which may restrain us
from every offence, how trifling soever it may appear, against
the laws of morality, is an essential part of our duty ; and what
a strong sense of duty, aided by a sound understanding, will
naturally lead to. But to exercise our powers of moral judg-
ment and moral feeling on the character and conduct of our
neighbours, is so far from being necessarily connected with our
moral improvement, that it has frequently a tendency to with-
draw our attention from the real state of our own characters ;

and to flatter us with a belief, that the degree in which we

possess the different virtues, is proportioned to the indignation
excited in our minds by the want of them in others.That this
rule of judgment is at least not infallible, may be inferred from
the common observation, (justified by the experience of every
man who has paid any attention to human life,) that the most
scrupulous men in their own conduct are generally the most
indulgent to the faults of their fellow-creatures, I will not go
quite so far as to assert with Dr. Hutcheson, (although I be-

lii. -lit, bj the hints it inggeate foronrinp tliropc of Moliere and a man who unites
ill. weakneoeei in which Um character inflexibility of principle with that ac-
origiuatee, ami by the intonating eon- cotnmodation of temper which is neces-
it xhil.its between the
. Misan- icrjr for the practical ezerciee of Tirtne.
 PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 311

lieve this remark has much foundation in truth,) u that men

have commonly the good or the bad qualities which they
ascribe to mankind." I shall content myself with repeating
after Mr. Addison, " that, among all the monstrous characters
in human nature, there is none so odious, nor indeed so exqui-
sitely ridiculous, as that of a rigid severe temper in a worth-

less man f an observation which, from the manner in which

1

he states it, evidently shows that he did not consider this union
as a very rare occurrence among the numberless inconsistencies
in our moral judgments and habits.
But what we are chiefly concerned at present to remark, is

the tendency of a censorious disposition with respect to our own

happiness. That favourable opinions of our species, and those
benevolent affections towards them which such opinions pro-
duce, are sources of exquisite enjoyment to those who entertain
them, no person will dispute. But there are two very different
ways in which men set about the attainment of this satisfac-
tion. One set of men aim at modelling the world to their own
wish, and repine in proportion to the disappointments they
experience in their plans of general reformation. Another,
while they do what they can to improve their fellow-creatures,
consider it as their chief business to watch over their own
characters and as they cannot succeed to their wish in making
;

mankind what they ought to be, they study to accommodate

their views and feelings to the order of Providence. They
exert their ingenuity in apologizing for folly and misconduct,
and are always more disposed to praise than to blame And :

when they see unquestionable and unpardonable delinquencies,

they avail themselves of such occurrences, not as occasions for
venting indignation and abuse, but as lessons of admonition to
themselves, and as calls to attempt the amendment of the de-
linquent by gentle and friendly remonstrances. Of these two
plans it is easy to see that the one, while it appears flattering
to the indolence of the individual, (because it requires no efforts
of self-denial,) must necessarily engage him in impracticable
and hopeless efforts. The other, although it requires force of
1
Spectator, No. 169.
312 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

mind to put it in execution, is within the reach of every man

to accomplish in a degree highly important to his own charac-
ter, and to his own comfort. This indeed I apprehend is the
great secret of happiness, — to study to accommodate our own
minds to tilings external, rather than to accommodate things
external to ourselves and there are no instances in which the
;

practice of the rule is of more consequence than in our inter-

course with our fellow-creatures. Let us do what we can to
amend them, but let us trust for our happiness to what depends
on ourselves. Nor is there any delusion necessary for this pur-
pose ; for the fairest views of human character are in truth the
justest and the more intimately we know mankind, the less
;

we shall be misled by the partialities of pride and self-love

and the more shall we be disposed to acknowledge the merits,
and to pardon the frailties of others.
" The
regulating our apprehensions of the actions of others/'
says Dr. Hutcheson, " is of very great importance, that we
may not imagine mankind worse than they really are, and
thereby bring on ourselves a temper full of suspicion, hatred,
anger, and contempt towards others, which is a constant state
of misery, much worse than all the evils to be feared from cre-
dulity. If we examine the true springs of human actions, we
shall seldom find their motives worse than self-love. Men are
often subject to anger, and on sudden provocations do injuries
to each other, and that only from self-love, without malice but ;

the greatest part of their lives is employed in offices of natural

affection, friendship, innocent self-love, or love of a country.
The little party prejudices are generally founded upon ignor-
ance or false opinions, rather apt to move pity than hatred.
Such considerations are the best preservative against anger,
i!a lice, and discontent of mind with the order of nature/' 1

These observations suggest the most important of all expe-

dient! for correcting those infirmities in which a bad temper
originate! ; — to cultivate that candour with respect to the mo-
tives of others, which results from habits of attention to our
1

EVtoy on tkt Nature and Conduct of the Passions <m<l Afectiont, Sect, iv i.

[p. IO'.i tliir.l ..hi ion.

 — ;

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§3.) 313

own infirmities, and from habits of reflection in our cooler

moments on the numerous circumstances which, independently
of any criminal intention, may produce the appearance of vice
in human conduct. 1
Abstracting, however, from these considerations, founded on
candid and indulgent views towards our fellow-creatures, it is

1
Another expedient of very powerful appearance. — See Elements of the Phi-
effect is to suppress, as far as possible, losophy of the Human Mind, Vol. III.
the external signs of peevishness or of pp. 217, 218. [Supra, Works, Vol. IV.
violence. So intimate is the connexion pp. 163-165.]
between mind and body, that the mere On these principles is founded a prac-
imitation of any strong expression has a tice which, if I am not misinformed, is

tendency to excite the corresponding followed by that respectable body of

passion and, on the other hand, the
; men called Quakers, in the education of
suppression of the external sign has a their children ; — to accustom them from
tendency to compose the passion which their earliest infancy to an equableand
it indicates. It is said of Socrates, that, monotonous softness of voice and to ;

whenever he felt the passion of resent- check every deviation from it, even in
ment rising in he became
his mind, those cases where the tranquillity of
instantly silent and I have no doubt,
; their minds must unavoidably be dis-
that, by observing this rule, he not only turbed by accidental occurrences. No
avoided many an occasion of giving expedient more effectual could be
offence to others, but added much to thought of for cherishing that evenness
the comfort of his own life, by killing and serenity of soul, which, while it
the seeds of those malignant affections renders us inoffensive to others, prepares
which are the great bane of human us to receive without alloy whatever
happiness. innocent gratifications are placed within
Something of the same kind, though our reach. —In practising this rule,

proceeding from a less worthy motive, however, is there not some danger of
we may see daily exemplified in the producing a sullenness of temper ?
case of those men who are peevish and The following observations of Aristotle
unhappy in their own families, while in (though they are in some respects ques-
thecompany of strangers they are good tionable) deserve at least to be well
humoured and cheerful. At home they considered. " The resentful and im-
give vent to all their passions without placable temper retains anger long, be-
restraint,and exasperate their original cause it does not give free vent to it

by the reaction of that bodily

irritability for to vent anger in vengeance naturally
agitation which it occasions. In pro- appeases it by substituting pleasure in
miscuous society the restraints of cere- the stead of pain, but passion restrained
mony render this impossible. They gathers strength by compression, and,
find themselves obliged to conceal stu- as it remains hid within the breast, the
diously whatever emotions of dissatis- gentle power of persuasion cannot be
faction they may feel, and soon come to applied for its alleviation ; it must be
experience, in fact, that gentle and ac- digested by the internal vigour of the
commodating temper of which they which is a work of time."
constitution,
have been striving to counterfeit the Nicomachian Ethics, Book IV. chap. v.
314 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

of essential importance for our happiness, as well as a duty

necessarily resulting from our conviction of the sacredness of
moral obligation, to cherish in our minds a devoted attachment
to truth and to virtue, on account of their own intrinsic excel-
lence ; and to cherish it with a peculiar care, if our lot should
be cast in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation. No
error can be more fatal (as Dr. Ferguson has excellently re-
marked) than " to rest our own choice of good qualities on
the supposition, that we are to meet with such qualities in
other men, or to apprehend that want of merit in our fellow-
creatures will dispense with that justice or liberality of conduct
1
which we ought to maintain."
Keflections of this sort are, in a peculiar degree, consolatory
and useful in such times as we have lately witnessed, when the
occasional successes of violence and injustice were apt to shake
the confidence of the firmest and most upright characters, and,
by suggesting melancholy apprehensions concerning the fortunes
of the human race, to damp the benevolent exertions of its

warmest and most enlightened friends. " The contemporaries

of a great political revolution," says a profound and eloquent
writer, " lose frequently all interest in the search of truth, and
in the dissemination of right principles. So many events de-
cided by force so many crimes absolved by success
; so many ;

misfortunes insulted by power so many generous sentiments ;

rendered objects of ridicule all conspire to wear out the

;
—
hopes even of those men who are the most faithful to the cause
of justice and humanity. Nevertheless, they ought to take
courage from the reflection, that, in the history of the human
mind, there has never existed one useful thought, nor one im-
-
portant truth, which has not found its age and its admirers.
The influence of the temper on happiness is much increased
by another circumstance; that the same causes which alienate
our affections from cur fellow-creatures, arc apt to suggest un-
favourable dews of the course of human affairs, and lead the

1
Institutes, [Part [V. chap. iii. sect. 4, Ml rappOrU nr,c h\< ins' it a tions Soci-
\<

a
164,Mcondedit :| p. 169, third edit. <//<-.«,• par Had. de Btael Holbtcin. — In-
DtlaLittfraU •
dfriedant traduction, p. 4.
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316 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

and most important of all subjects. u Good humour/' says

Lord Shaftesbury, u is not only the best security against en-
thusiasm, but the best foundation of piety and true religion
for if right thoughts and worthy apprehensions of the Supreme
Being are fundamental to all true worship and adoration, 'tis
more than probable that we shall never miscarry in this respect,
except through ill-humour only. Nothing beside ill-humour
can bring a man to think seriously, that the world is governed
by any devilish or malicious power. I very much question
whether any thing, besides ill-humour, can be the cause of
atheism. For there are so many arguments to persuade a
man in good-humour, that, in the main, all things are kindly
and well-disposed, that one would think it impossible for him
to be so far out of conceit with affairs, as to imagine they all
ran at adventures ; and that the world, as wise and venerable a
face as it carried, had neither sense nor meaning iu it. This,
however, I am persuaded of, that nothing beside ill-humour
can give us dreadful or ill thoughts of a Supreme Manager.
Nothing can persuade us of sullen ness or sourness in such a
Being, beside the actual fore-feeling of somewhat of this kind
within ourselves."*
As the temper has an influence on our speculative opinions,
so the views we form of the administration of the Universe,
and, in particular, of the condition and prospects of Man, have
a reciprocal effect on the temper. The belief of overruling
wisdom and goodness communicates the most heartfelt of all
satisfactions; and the idea of prevailing order and happiness
has an habitual effect iu composing the discordant affections,
similar to what we experience when, in some retired and tran-
quil scent', we enjoy the sweet serenity of a summer evening.
This tendency of the mind, on the one hand, to hunnoiiizc
-flections, and, on the other, to suffer the passions to run
into cmarcAy, according as it thinks well or ill of the order of
the ODi?ene ; Or, (which comes to the same tiling,) this influ-
ence of an enlightened religion on the temper, is alluded to
• \('n,ir,nLri*ti,s:—!,tt,r UMOUMUg Ktithutitism, MCt IU. Vol. T. p.
•d. iTii.l
 — ; ;

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 317

more than once in that beautiful poem

Ima- the Pleasures of
gination. In the following passage of one of his odes, Aken-
side has employed, in confirmation of this doctrine, the same
illustration to which I have just alluded I mean the effect ;

which particular aspects of the material universe have on the

moral and social feelings.

" Thron'd in the sun's descending car,

What power unseen diffuseth far

This tenderness of mind!
What Genius smiles on yonder flood ;

What God in whispers from the wood,

Bids every thought be kind !

" Thou, whate'er thine awful name,

Whose goodness our untoward frame
With social love constrains ;

Thou, who by fair affection's ties

Giv'st us to double all our joys
And half disarm our pains

" Let universal candour still,

Clear as yon heaven-reflecting rill,

Preserve my open mind

Nor this, nor that man's crooked ways
One sordid doubt within me raise,

To injure human kind." *

[Subsect.] II. Influence of the Imagination on Happiness.

One of the principal effects of a liberal education, is to
accustom us to withdraw our attention from the objects of our
present perceptions, and to dwell at pleasure on the past, the
absent, and the future. How much it must enlarge in this way
the sphere of our enjoyment or suffering is obvious ; for (not
to mention the recollection of the past) all that part of our
happiness or misery, which arises from our hopes or our fears,
derives its existence entirely from the power of imagination.
It is from education alone that the differences
not, however,
among individuals in respect of this faculty seem to arise.
Even among those who have enjoyed the same advantages of
mental culture, we find some men in whom it never makes any
* [Ode V. Against Suspicion.]
318 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MOP.AL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

considerable appearance, —men whose thoughts seem to be com-

pletely engrossed with the objects and events with which their
senses are conversant, and on whose minds the impressions pro-
duced by what is absent and future are so comparatively
languid, that they seldom or never excite their passions or
arrest their attention. In others, again, the colouring which
imagination throws on the objects they conceive is so brilliant,
that even the present impressions of sense are unable to stand
the comparison ; and the thoughts are perpetually wandering
from this world of realities to fairy scenes of their own creation.
In such men, the imagination is the principal source of their
pleasurable or painful sensations, and their happiness or misery
is in a great measure determined by the gay or melancholy

cast, which this faculty has derived from original constitution,

or from acquired habits.

When the hopes or the fears which imagination inspires pre-
vail over the present importunity of our sensual appetites, it is

a proof of the superiority which the intellectual part of our

character has acquired over the animal and as the course of
;

life which wisdom and virtue prescribe requires frequently a

sacrifice of the present to the future, a warm and vigorous

imagination is sometimes of essential by exhibiting those
use,
lively prospects of solid and permanent happiness which may
counteract the allurements of present pleasure. In those who
are enslaved completely by their sensual appetites, imagination
may indeed operate in anticipating future gratification, or it

may blend itself with memory in the recollection of past enjoy-

ment ; but where this is the case, imagination is so far from
answering its intended purpose, that an unnatural
it establishes
alliance between our intellectual powers and our animal desires;
and extends the empire of the latter, by filling up the intervals
of actual indulgence with habits of thought, more degrading
and ruinous, if possible, to the rational part of our being, than
the time which is employed in criminal gratification.
In such individuals, imagination is but a prolongation of

ual Indulgences, and scarcely merits the appellation of an

intellectual power. It brutities the man, indeed, still more than
 PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 319

he could possibly become, if it did not form a part of his con-

stitution, and if he were merely a compound of reason and
passion. To such men, it surely cannot be considered as a con-
stituent of what deserves the name of happiness. On the con-
trary, by increasing the importunate cravings of desire beyond
those limits which nature prescribes, it abridges that sphere of
innocent gratification which the Beneficent Author of our Being
intends us to enjoy.
In mentioning, however, the influence of imagination on
happiness, what I had chiefly in view was the addition which
is made to our enjoyments or sufferings, on the whole, by the

predominance of hope or of fear in the habitual state of our

minds. One man is continually led, by the complexion of his
temper, to forebode evil to himself and to the world ; while
another, after a thousand disappointments, looks forward to the
future with exultation, and feels his confidence in Providence
unshaken. One principal cause of such differences is undoubt-
edly the natural constitution of the mind in point of fortitude.
The weak and the timid are under continual alarm from the
apprehension of evils which are barely possible, and fancy
" there is a lion in the way," when they are called on to dis-
charge the common duties of life ; although, in truth, (as one
of our poets has remarked,) the evils they apprehend, suppos-
ing them actually to happen, cannot exceed those they habi-
tually suffer.

" Is there an evil worse than fear itself?

And what avails it that indulgent Heaven

From mortal eyes has wrapt the woes to come,
If we, ingenious to torment ourselves,
Grow pale at hideous fictions of our own ?
Enjoy the present ; nor with heedless cares
Of what may spring from hlind misfortune's womb,
Appal the surest hour that life bestows :

Serene and master of yourself prepare

For what may come, and leave the rest to Heaven." 1

It may be worth while here to remark, that what we pro-

perly call cowardice is entirely a disease of the imagination.
1
Armstrong's Art of Preserving Health, Book iv. [123.]
320 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

Itdoes not always imply an impatience under present suffering.

On the contrary, it is frequently observed in men who submit
quietly to the evilswhich they have actually experienced, and
of which they have thus learned to measure the extent with
accuracy. Nay, there are cases in which patience is the off-
spring of cowardice the imagination magnifying future dangers
,

to such a degree as to render present sufferings comparatively

insignificant.
1
Men of this description always judge it safer to
" bear the ills they know, than fly to others that they know not
of and of consequence, when under the pressure of pain and
;"

disease, scruple to employ those vigorous remedies, which,

while they give them a chance for recovery, threaten them with
the possibility of a more imminent danger. The brave, on the
contrary, are not always patient under distress and they some- ;

times, perhaps, owe their bravery in part to this impatience.

We may remark an apt illustration of this observation in the
two sexes. The male is more courageous, but more impatient
of suffering the female more timid, but more resigned and
;

serene under severe pain and affliction.

Abstracting from constitutional biases, the two great sources
of a desponding imagination are superstition and scepticism.
Of the former, the unhappy victims are many, and have been
so in all ages of the world, although their number may be ex-
pected gradually to diminish in proportion to the progress and
the diffusion of knowledge. All of us, however, have had an
opportunity of witnessing enough of its effects in those remains
which are still to be found, in many parts of this country, of
the old prejudices with respect to apparitions and spectres, to
be able to form an idea of what mankind must have suffered
in the ages of Gothic ignorance, when these weaknesses of the
uninformed mind were skilfully made use of by an ambitious
priesthood as an engine of ecclesiastical policy. Scepticism,
too, when carried to an extreme, can scarcely fail to produce
similar effects. As it encourages the notion, that all events are
regulated by chance, if it does not alarm the mind with terror,
it extinguishes at least every ray of hope ; and such is the rest-
1
Dolendi modus, tiiucndi non item.
 PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 321

less activity of the mind, that it may be questioned whether

the agitation of fear be a source of more complete wretchedness
than that listlessness which deprives us of all interest about
futurity, and represents to us the present moment alone as
ours. Nor is this all. A complete scepticism is so unnatural
a state to the human understanding, that it was probably never
realized in any one instance. Nay, I believe it will generally
be found, that, in proportion to the violence of a man's disbe-
lief on those important subjects which are essential to human
happiness, the more extravagant is his credulity on other
where the fashion of the times does not brand credulity
articles,

as a weakness for the mind must have something distinct

;

from the objects of sense on which to repose itself; and those

principles of our nature, on which religion is founded, if they
are prevented from developing themselves under the direction
of an enlightened reason, will infallibly disclose themselves, in
one way or another, in the character and the conduct.
Of no stronger proof can be produced, than that the
this
same period of the eighteenth century, and the same part of
Europe, which were most distinguished by the triumphs of a
sceptical philosophy, were also distinguished by a credulity so
extraordinary, or rather so miraculous, as to encourage a
greater number of visionaries and impostors than had appeared
since the time of the revival of letters. The pretenders to
Animal Magnetism, and the revivers of the Kosicrucian Mys-
teries, are but two instances out of many that might be
mentioned.
I have only to add farther on this subject, that it is an
enlightened philosophy alone Which can guard the mind effec-

tually against those superstitious weaknesses which are often to

be found in men remarkable, not only for their intrepidity
amid the real difficulties and dangers of life, but for their fear-
less and heroic gallantry in the field of battle. Not to speak
of Scipio's faith in dreams, and Caesar's apprehension about
the Ides of March, some of the greatest military characters in
modern Europe have, even in our own times, allowed them-
selves to be imposed on by the artifices of astrologers, nay, of

VOL. VII. x
322 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

common fortune-tellers. Frederic the Great (if we may credit

the Marquis de Bouill£) was not without faith in the predic-
tions of conjurers and the late Gustavus of Sweden (we are
;

positively assured by the same writer) was by no means free

from this sort of superstition. He had always dreaded the
month of March and the first word he said to Armfeldt, on
;

finding himself wounded, was to remind him of this circum-

1
stance. The ascendant gained by Rosier ucian Illuminati over
the mind of the late Frederic William of Prussia, (a prince of
unquestionable intrepidity in all military operations,) is matter
of general notoriety.
Such, then, are the miseries of an ill-regulated imagination,
whether arising from constitutional biases, or from the acqui-
sition of erroneous opinions ; and they are miseries which, when
they affect habitually the state of the mind, are sufficient to
poison all the enjoyments which fortune can offer. To those,
on the contrary, whose education has been fortunately con-
ducted, this faculty opens inexhaustible sources of delight,
presenting continually to their thoughts the fairest views of
mankind and of Providence, and, under the deepest gloom of
adverse fortune, gilding the prospects of futurity.
I have remarked, in the first volume of the Philosophy of
the Human Mind, [p. 452, seq.~\ that what we call sensibility,
depends in a great measure on the degree of imagination we
possess ; and hence, in such a world as ours, chequered as it is

with good and evil, there must be in every mind a mixture of

pleasure and of pain, proportioned to the interest which ima-
gination leads it to take in the fortunes of mankind. It is even
natural and reasonable for a benevolent disposition (notwith-
standing what Mr. Smith has so ingeniously alleged to the con-
trary 2 ) to dwell more habitually on the gloomy than on the gay
aspect of human affairs for the fortunate stand in no need of
;

our assistance ;
while, amidst the distractions of our own per-
sonal concerns, the wretched require all the assistance which
our imagination can lend them, to engage our attention to their

1
Mtmoin of tfc Marquis dt 2
Theory of Moral Sentiments.
'
llr
Sixth edition. Part III. chap. 8.
 ! ; a
;

PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 323

distresses. In this sympathy, however, with the general suf-

ferings of humanity, the pleasure far overbalances the pain
not only on account of that secret charm which accompanies
all the modifications of benevolence, but because it is they
alone whose prospects of futurity are sanguine, and whose con-
fidence in the final triumph of reason and of justice is linked
with all the best principles of the heart, who are likely to make
a common cause with the oppressed and the miserable. This,
therefore, (although we frequently apply to it the epithet
melancholy^) is, on the whole, a happy state of mind, and has
no connexion with what we commonly call low spirits, —
disease where the pain is unmixed, and which is always accom-
panied, either as a cause or effect, by the most intolerable of all

feelings, a sentiment of self-dissatisfaction ; whereas the temper

I have now alluded to is felt only by those who are at peace
with themselves, and with the whole world. Such is that spe-
cies of melancholy which Thomson has so pathetically described
as exerting a peculiar influence at that season of the year, (his
own favourite and inspiring season,) when the " dark winds of
autumn return," and when the and the naked
falling leaves
fields fill the heart at once with mournful presages and with
tender recollections.
" He comes ! he comes ! in every breeze the Power
Of philosophic melancholy comes
His near approach, the sudden starting tear,

The glowing cheek, the mild dejected air,

The softened feature, and the beating heart,

Pierc'd deep with many a virtuous pang, declare.
O'er all the soul his sacred influence breathes ;

Inflames imagination ; through the breast

Infuses every tenderness ; and far

Beyond dim earth exalts the swelling thought.

Ten thousand thousand fleet ideas, such
As never mingled with the vulgar dream,
Crowd fast into the mind's creative eye.
As fast the correspondent passions rise,
As varied and as high Devotion rais'd :

To rapture and Divine astonishment

The love of nature unconfined, and chief
Of human race the large ambitious wish
;

To make them blest; the 6igh for suffering worth

 ;

324 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

Lost in obscurity ; the noble scorn

Of tyrant pride the fearless great resolve
;
;

The wonder which the dying patriot draws

Inspiring glory through remotest time ;

The awakened throb for virtue and for fame ;

The sympathies of love, and friendship dear

With all the social offspring of the heart." *

It will not, I think, be denied, that an imagination of the

cast here described, while it has an obvious tendency to refine
the taste and to exalt the character, enlarges very widely in the
man who possesses it how-
the sphere of his enjoyment. It is,

ever, no less indisputable, that this faculty requires an uncom-

mon share of good sense to keep it under proper regulation,
and to derive from it the pleasures it was intended to afford,
without suffering it either to mislead the judgment in the con-
duct of life, or to impair our relish for the moderate gratifica-
tions which are provided for our present condition. I have
treated at some length of this subject in the first volume of
the Philosophy of the Human Mind, under the title of the
" Inconveniences resulting from an ill-regulated Imagina-
tion ;"f and shall content myself here with a simple reference
to that chapter, without attempting any recapitulation of its
contents.
These inconveniences have appeared to some philosophers to
be so alarming, that they have concluded it to be one of the
most essential objects of education to repress as much as pos-
sible this dangerous faculty. But in this, as in other instances,
it is in vain to counteract the purposes of nature ; and all that
human wisdom ought to attempt, is to study the ends which
she has apparently in view, and to co-operate with the means
which she has provided for their attainment. The very argu-
ments on which these philosophers have proceeded justifies the
remark I have now made, and encourages us to follow out the
plan 1 have recommended lor surely the more cruel the effects
;

of a deranged imagination, the happier are the consequences to

be expected from this part of our constitution if properly re-

* [Seasons; Autumn, 1003.]

f [Chftp. VI 1 Hd v. ;
supra, Works, Vol. IT. p. 457, seq.}
 PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 325

gulated, and if directed to its destined purposes by good sense

and philosophy. It is justly remarked by an author in the
Toiler, as an acknowledged fact, that " of all writings licen-
tious poems do soonest corrupt the heart. And why," con-
tinues he, " should we not be as universally persuaded that the
grave and serious performances of such as write in the most
engaging manner, by a kind of Divine impulse, must be the
most effectual persuasive to goodness ? The most active prin-
ciple in our mind is the imagination. To it a good poet makes
his court perpetually, and by this faculty takes care to gain it
first. Our passions and inclinations come over next, and our
reason surrenders itself with pleasure in the end. Thus the
whole soul is insensibly betrayed into morality, by bribing the
fancy with beautiful and agreeable images of those very things
that, in the books of the philosophers, appear austere, and have
at the best but a kind of forbidding aspect. In a word, the
poets do, as it were, strew the rough paths of virtue so full of
flowers, that we are not sensible of the uneasiness of them, and
imagine ourselves in the midst of pleasures, and the most be-
witching allurements, at the time we are making a progress in
1
the severest duties of life."

Hitherto we have been considering the connexion between

imagination and happiness in those individuals over whose
minds the influence of this faculty is increased by a liberal
education beyond the ordinary standard There is, however,
no mind over which it has not some influence more or less for ;

there is no mind whose estimates of external objects are not

affected in some degree by casual associations, and of course
none in which the conceptions of external objects are not in
some degree modified by the power of imagination.
I have elsewhere remarked that the greater part of what Mr.
Alison has so finely observed concerning the pleasures of Taste,
may be applied to the various objects of our pursuit in life.

Hardly anything is appreciated according to its intrinsic value.

Long before the dawn of reason and reflection, associations are
formed in the minds of children, of happiness, of elegance, of
'
No. 98.
 —
326 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

gaiety, of spirit, of fashion, of sensibility, as connected with

particular pursuits or amusements, sometimes with particular
animal gratifications. And it is a melancholy truth to add,
that by such casual associations the choice of most individuals
is determined, and the destiny of their lives decided.
Such associations, however, are not always a source of suffer-

in°\ On the contrary, they often add much to the happiness

of human life. With what satisfaction does the soldier submit

to the hardships of his profession, who superadds to a sense of

duty the enthusiasm which arises from the classical recollec-

tions of Greece and Home, in comparison of him whose mind
never wanders from the scenes and occupations which press
upon his senses Even the most trifling occurrences of the
!

most common situation —

the insignificant objects which are
;

scattered over the waste of human life, are embellished to those

whose minds are stored with fortunate associations, with charms
which are as inconceivable to the bulk of mankind as the rap-
tures with which the poet surveys the face of Nature are to the
tradesman and the peasant. This does not render the plea-
sures of life less real. On the contrary, it adds infinitely to
their amount, and furnishes one of the strongest evidences of
benevolent design in the Author of our Constitution.
The great object of education ought to be, not to counteract
this tendency to association, but to give it a proper direction,
not to limit our enjoyment in every particular to the mere phy-
sical gratification, but to connect pleasing associations as far as
possible with objectsand events which it is in the power of all
—
men to command with the faithful and conscientious discharge
of our duties, with the pursuits of science, and with those
beauties of nature which are open to all.
" Associations of this kind," as Mr. Alison well remarks,
" when acquired in early life, are seldom altogether lost; and
whatever inconveniences they may sometimes have with respect
to the genera] character, or however much they may be ridi-
cnled by those who do not experience them, they are yet
ductive to those who possess them of a perpetual and in-
enl delight Nature herself is their friend. In her most
 —

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 327

dreadful as well as her most lovely scenes, they can discover

something either to elevate their imaginations, or to move their
hearts, and amid every change of scenery or of climate, can still

find themselves among the early objects of their admiration or

their love."*
On the proper regulation of this part of our constitution,
many valuable remarks are to be found in the writings of the
ancient Stoics; among whom,
the XP^ ac<i °*a ^vracricov ^
was regarded as one of the most important of our concerns in
the conduct of life.f
Even in those men, however, whose education has not been
so systematically conducted, and whose associations have been
formed by accident, notwithstanding the many acute sufferings
to which they may be exposed, I am persuaded, that (except in
some very rare combinations of circumstances) this part of our
constitution is a more copious source of pleasure than of pain.
After all the complaints that have been made of the peculiar
distresses incident to cultivated minds, who would exchange
the sensibility of his intellectual and moral being for the apathy
of those whose only avenues of pleasure and pain are to be
found in their animal nature, who " move thoughtlessly in the
narrow circle of their existence, and to whom the falling leaves
present no idea but that of approaching winter ?" The hap-
piness of such men, it is true, must depend in a great measure
on accident ; but (such is the wise and gracious arrangement
of tilings) that I am persuaded they are happier, on the whole,
than those in whom the lessons of a cold and sceptical philoso-
phy extinguish the glow of hope and fancy, and u freeze the
genial current of the soul." would only except those unfor- I
tunate cases where the mind is disordered by a constitutional
melancholy, or has been early tinctured with the gloom of a
depressing superstition.
I shall conclude these very imperfect hints on a most im-

* [Essays on the Nature and Princi- Arriani Dissert. Epict. Lib. I. cap. xii.,

pies of Taste, Essay I. chap. i. sect. 3. etpassim; Antoninum, De Rebus Suis,

Vol. I. p. 67, sixth edition. 1825.] Lib. V. § xvi.]
f [Vide Epicteti Enchir., cap. vi. ;
 —

328 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

portant subject, with remarking the inefficacy of mere reasoning

or argument, in correcting the effects of early impressions and
prejudices. More is from the opposite associa-
to be expected
tions, which may be gradually formed by a new course of studies
and of occupations, or by a complete change of scenes, of habits,
and of society.

[Subsect.] III. Influence of Opinions on Happiness.

By opinions are here meant, not merely speculative conclu-
sions towhich we have given our assent, but convictions which
have taken root in the mind, and have an habitual influence on
the conduct.
Of and important part are, in
these opinions a very great
the case of all mankind, interwoven by education with their
first habits of thinking, or are insensibly imbibed from the

manners of the times.

Where such opinions are erroneous, they may often be cor-
rected to a great degree by the persevering efforts of a reflecting
and vigorous mind ; but as the number of minds capable of
reflection is comparatively small, itbecomes a duty on all who
have themselves experienced the happy effects of juster and
more elevated principles, to impart, as far as they are able, the
same blessing to others. The subject is of too great extent to
be here prosecuted ; but the reader will find it discussed at
great length in a very valuable section of Dr. Ferguson's Prin-
ciples of Moral and Political Science}
Of the doctrines contained in this section, the following
abstract is given by the same writer in his Institutes of Moral
PkHo8opky.
" It is unhappy to lay the pretensions of human nature so
low as to check its exertions. The despair of virtue is still

more unhappy than the despair of knowledge.

• It is unhappy to entertain notions of what men actually

high as, upon trial and disappointment) to run into the

opposite extreme of distrust
1
It is unhappy to rest, our own choice of good qualities on
1
r.ni 11 i bap, i. ho i
 —

FART II. TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAFTINESS. ^ 3.) 329

supposition, that we are to meet with such qualities in

other men : or to apprehend, that want of merit in other men
will dispense with that justice or liberality of conduct which
we ought to maintain.
It is unhappy to consider perfection as the standard by
which we are to censure others, not as the rule by which we
are to conduct ourselves.
" It is a wretched opinion, that happiness consists in a free-

dom from trouble, or in having nothing to do.

" In consequence of this opinion men complain of what
might employ them agreeably. By declining every duty, and
every active engagement, they render life a burden, and they
complain that it is so. By declining business to go in search
of amusement, they reject what is fitted to occupy them, and
search in vain for something else to quicken the languor of a
ant mind.
" It is therefore unhappy to entertain an opinion, that any
tiling can amuse us better than the duties of our station, or
than that which we are in the present moment called upon
to do.
M
It is an unhappy opinion, that beneficence is an effort of

self-denial, or that we lav our fellow-creatures under great

obligations by the kindness we do them.
••
It is an unhappy opinion, that anything whatever is \-
1
ferable to happiness.
"S & sfc 5jc :s ^: :*:

••
It is happy,*' continues the saine author, " to value per-

1
La i'.'. . k.

Dr. 1 i :.e appearance of happiness

ass&ge from the ZWtfer;
" There is hardly a man : :nd the ppmeat
who would not rather be in pain to ap- virtue? Bj
pear happy, than be really happy ss, a vain ma:
appear miseral am
The author of the Fablt o/ th< Ban claim indirectly to aU ral qua-
remark AP has also said,
M there which
(see is lities of I .
58 is

nothing so ravishing to the proud." he understood to be the fruit and the

Id have said to the be am rev.
happy."
330 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

sonal qualities above every other consideration, and to state

perfection as a guide to ourselves, not as a rule by which to
censure others.
" It is happy to rely on what is in our own power ; to value
the characters of a worthy, benevolent, and strenuous mind,
not as a form merely to be observed in our conduct, but as the
completion of what we have to wish for in human life, and to
consider the debasements of a malicious and cowardly nature as
the extreme misery to which we are exposed.
" It is happy to have continually in view that we are mem-
bers of society, and of the commuuity of mankind that we are ;

instruments in the hand of God for the good of his creatures ;

that, if we are ill members of society, or unwilling instruments

in the hand of God, we do our utmost to counteract our nature,
to quit our station, and to undo ourselves.
" / am in the station which God has assigned me, says
Epictetus. With this reflection a man may be happy in every
station ; without it he cannot be happy in any. Is not the
appointment of God sufficient to outweigh every other consi-
deration ? This rendered the condition of a slave agreeable to
Epictetus, and that of a monarch to Antoninus. This consi-
deration renders any situation agreeable to a rational nature,
which delights not in partial interests, but in universal good." 1
This excellent passage contains a summary of the most
valuable principles of the Stoical school. One of their doc-
trines, however, I could have wished that Dr. Ferguson had
touched upon with his masterly hand ; I mean that which re-
lates to the inconsistencies which most men fall into in their
expectations of happiness, as well as in the estimates they form
of the prosperity of others. The following quotation from
Epictetus* will explain sufficiently the doctrine to which I
allude.
'
What
more reasonable than that they who take pains
is

tor anything should get most in that particular for which they

take pains? They have taken pains for power, you for right
.:t IV ,h.ip iii.
H },;,, 2d edit., * [Arriani Dissert. EfibL Lib. IV.
I'
'• Mg. M .'.lit cap. vi J
 PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 331

principles ; they for riches, you for a proper use of the appear-
ances of things. See whether they have the advantage of you
in that for which you have taken pains, and which they neglect.
... If they are in power and you not, why will you not speak
the truth to yourself, that you do nothing for the sake of power,
but that they do everything ? . . . No, but since I take care
to have right principles, it is more reasonable that I should
have power ? Yes, in respect to what you take care about, your
principles. But give up to others the things in which they
have taken more care than you. Else it is just as if, because
you have right principles, you should think it fit that when
you shoot an arrow you should hit the mark better than an
archer, or thatyou should forge better than a smith/' 1
Upon the foregoing passage a very ingenious and elegant
writer, Mrs. Barbauld, has written a commentary so full of
good sense and of important practical morality, that I am sure
I run no hazard of trespassing on the patience of the reader by
the length of the following extracts.
" As most of the unhappiness in the world arises rather from

disappointed desires, than from positive evil, it is of the utmost

consequence to attain just notions of the laws and order of the
universe, that we may not vex ourselves with fruitless wishes,
or give way to groundless and unreasonable discontent
We should consider this world as a great mart of commerce,
where fortune exposes to our view various commodities, riches,
ease, tranquillity, fame, integrity, knowledge. Every thing is

marked at a settled price. Our time, our labour, our ingenuity,

is so much ready money, which we are to lay out to the best
advantage. Examine, compare, choose, reject but stand to ;

your own judgment, and do not, like children, when you have
purchased one thing, repine that you do not possess another
which you did not purchase. Such is the force of well-regu-
lated, industry, that a steady and vigorous exertion of our
faculties, directed to one end, will generally insure success.
Would you, for instance, be rich ? Do you think that single
point worth the sacrificing every thing else to ? You may then
1
Mrs. Carter's Translation.
332 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

be rich. Thousands have become so from the lowest begin-

nings, from toil and patient diligence, and attention to the
minutest articles of expense and profit. But you must give up
the pleasures of leisure, of a vacant mind, of a free unsuspicious
temper. If you preserve your integrity, it must be a coarse-
spun and vulgar honesty. Those high and lofty notions of
morals which you brought with you from the schools must be
considerably lowered, and mixed with the baser alloy of a
jealous and worldly-minded prudence. You must learn to do
hard, if not unjust things and for the nice embarrassments of
;

a delicate and ingenuous spirit, it is necessary for you to get

rid of them as fast as possible. You must shut your heart
against the muses, and be content to feed your understanding
with plain household truths. In short, you must not attempt
to enlarge your ideas, or polish your taste, or refine your sen-
timents, but must keep on in one beaten track, without turning
aside either to the right hand or to the left '
But I cannot
submit to drudgery like this. I feel a spirit above it/ Tis
well : be above it then ; only do not repine that you are not
rich.
" Is knowledge the pearl of price ? That too may be pur-
chased — by steady application, and long solitary hours of study
and reflection. Bestow these and you shall be wise. But,' '

says the man of letters, what a hardship is it that many who

i

are grossly illiterate shall raise a fortune and make a figure,

while I have little more than the common conveniences of life.'

Et tibi magna satis ! Was it in order to raise a fortune that

you consumed the sprightly hours of youth in study and retire-
ment ? Was it to be rich that you grew pale over the mid-
night lamp, and distilled the sweetness from the Greek and
Roman spring ? Sou have then mistaken your path, and ill

employed your industry. 'What reward have 1 then for all

my labours?' What reward! A large comprehensive soul,
well purged from vulgar and perturbations, and preju-
fears,

dices ; comprehend and interpret the works of man and

able to
of God A rich, flourishing, cultivated mind, pregnant with
inexhaustible stores of entertainment and reflection A per-
 —

PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 333

petual spring of fresh ideas; and the conscious dignity of

superior intelligence. Good heaven and what reward can you
!

ask besides ?
u
not some reproach upon the economy of Provi-
l
But is it

dence that such a one, who is a mean, dirty fellow, should have
amassed wealth enough buy half a nation ¥ Not in the
to
least. He made himself a mean, dirty fellow for that very end.
He has paid his health, his conscience, his liberty for it, and
will you envy him his bargain ? Will you hang your head
and blush in his presence because he outshines you in equipage
and show ? Lift up your brow with a noble confidence, and
say to yourself, I have not these things, it is true ; but it is

because I have not sought, —because I have not desired them,

— it is because I possess something better. I have chosen my
lot, —I am content and satisfied.
*«.;. •y*
&S*
*X»
•!*
*y*
»;»
»J»
«•.
»j»
*?•
»l«

" I much admire the spirit of the ancient philosophers, in

that they never attempted, as our moralists often do, to lower
the tone of philosophy, and make it consistent with all the in-
dulgences of indolence and sensuality. They never thought of
having the bulk of mankind for their disciples ; but kept them-
selves as distinct as possible from a worldly life. They plainly
told men what sacrifices were required, and what advantages
they were which might be expected.

1
Si virtus hoc una potest dare, fortis omissis

Hoc age deliciis.' ....

would be a philosopher these are the terms. You

" If you

must do thus and thus There is no other way. If not, go and

:

be one of the vulgar."

[Subsect.] IV. Influence of Habits on Happiness.

The effect of Habit in reconciling our minds to the incon-

veniences of our situation was formerly remarked, [p. 152, seq.]

and an argument was drawn from it in proof of the goodness of
our Creator, who, besides making so rich a provision of objects
suited to the principles of our nature, has thus bestowed on us
334 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

a power of accommodation to external circumstances, which

these principles teach us to avoid.
This tendency of the mind, however, to adapt itself to the
objects with which it is familiarly conversant, may, in some
instances, not only be a source of occasional suffering, but may
disqualify us for relishing the best enjoyments which human
life affords. The habits contracted during infancy and child-
hood are so much more inveterate than those of our maturer
years, that they have been justly said to constitute a second
nature ; and if, unfortunately, they have been formed amidst
circumstances over which we have no control, they leave us no
security for our happiness but the caprice of fortune.
To habituate the minds of children to those occupations and
enjoyments alone, which it is in the power of an individual at
all times to command, is the most solid foundation that can be
laid for their future tranquillity. These, too, are the occupa-
tions and enjoyments which afford the most genuine and sub-
stantial satisfaction and if education were judiciously em-
;

ployed to second in this respect the recommendations of nature,

they might appropriate to themselves all the borrowed charms
which the vanities of the world derive from casual associations.
With respect to pursuits which depend, in the first instance,
on our own choice, it is of the last importance for us to keep
constantly in view how much of the happiness of mankind
arises from and in the formation of our plans to disregard
habit,
those prepossessions and prejudices which so often warp the
judgment in the conduct of life. "Choose that course of
action," said Pythagoras, " which is best, and custom will soon
render it the most agreeable/'*
To these very slight hints concerning the regulation of the
habits, I add a few observations of Dr. Paley's which
shall
appeal to me to be solid and judicious, and which afford a
favourable specimen of that talent for familiar and happy
illustration for which this very popular writer has been so
justly celebrated

• [Plutarch, (A- BxXo; Opera, torn. ii. p. 602, cd. Xylandri.) Ascribed also
Mlfl.J
 ;

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OF HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 335

" The art in which the secret of human happiness in a great

measure consists, is to set the habits in such a manner that
every change may be a change for the better. The habits
themselves are much the same for whatever is made habitual
;

becomes smooth, and and nearly indifferent. The return

easy,
to an old habit is likewise easy, whatever the habit be. There-
fore the advantage is with those habits which allow of indul-
gence in the deviation from them. The luxurious
no receive
greater pleasure from their dainties, than the peasant does from
his bread and cheese but the peasant whenever he goes abroad
;

finds a feast, whereas the Epicure must be well entertained to

escape disgust. Those who spend every day at cards, and
those who go every day to plough, pass their time much alike
intent upon what they are about, wanting nothing, regretting
nothing, they are both for the time in a state of ease ; but then
whatever suspends the occupation of the card-player distresses
him whereas to the labourer every interruption is a refresh-
;

ment and this appears in the different effect that Sunday

:

produces on the two, which proves a day of recreation to the

one, but a lamentable burden to the other. The man who has
learned to live alone feels his spirits enlivened whenever he
enters company, and takes his leave without regret.
into
Another who has long been accustomed to a crowd, experi-
ences in company no elevation of spirits, nor any greater satis-
faction than what the man of a retired life finds in his chimney
corner. So far their conditions are equal ; but let a change of
place, fortune, or situation, separate the companion from his
circle, his visitors, his club, common-room, or coffee-house, and
the difference of advantage in the choice and constitution of
the two habits will show itself. Solitude comes to the one
clothed with melancholy ; to the other it brings liberty and
quiet. You will see the one fretful and restless; at a loss
how to dispose of his time till the hour come round that
he can forget himself in bed ; the other easy and satisfied,
taking up his book or his pipe as soon as he finds himself
alone ; ready to admit any little amusement that casts up, or

turn his hands and attention to the first business that presents
 —

336 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. B. IV. DUTIES TO ME*.

itself; or, content without either, to sit still and let his trains

of thought glide indolently through his brain, without much

use, perhaps, or pleasure, but without hankering after anything
better, and without irritation. A reader who has inured him-
self tobooks of science and argumentation, if a novel, a well
written pamphlet, an article of news, a narrative of a curious
voyage, or the journal of a traveller comes in his way, sits down
to the repast with relish; enjoys his entertainment while it

lasts, and can return when it is over to his graver reading

without distaste. Another, with whom nothing will go down
but works of humour and pleasantry, or whose curiosity must
be interested by perpetual novelty, will consume a bookseller's
window in half a forenoon, during which time he is rather in
search of diversion than diverted ; and as books to his taste are
few and short, and rapidly read over, the stock is soon exhausted,
when he is left without resource from this principal supply of
harmless amusement."*
As a supplement remarks of Paley, I shall quote a
to the
short passage from Montaigne, containing an observation rela-
tive to the same subject ; which, although stated in a form
rather unqualified, seems to me highly worthy of attention.
"We must not rivet ourselves so fast to our humours and com-
plexions. Our chief business is to know how to apply our-
selves to various customs. For a man to keep himself tied and
bound by necessity to one only course, is but bare existence,
not living. was an honourable character of the elder Cato,
It
(' huic versatile ingenium sic pariter ad omnia fuit, ut natum

ad id ununi diceres, quodcunque ageret.') So versatile was '

hifl genius, that whatever he took in hand, you would be apt to

say that he was formed for that very thing only.' 1 Were I to
choose for myself, there is no fashion so good that I should
care to be BO wedded to it as not to have it in my power to
disengage myself from it. Life is a motion, uneven, irregular,
and ever varying its direction. A man is not his own friend,
inueli less liis own master, but rather a slave to himself, who is

* [iYtnetpiM of Moral and Political Pk8o$q fcy, Book I. chap. vi. g 3.]
1
Liw, Hi* Lib. XXXIX cap. si.
 — ;

PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. —OE HAPPINESS. (§ 3.) 337

eternally pursuing his own humour, and such a bigot to his

inclinations, that he is not able to abandon or to alter them/' 1
The only thing to be censured in this passage is, that the
author makes no distinction between good and bad habits
between those which we are induced to cultivate by reason, and
by the original principles of our nature and those which rea- ;

son admonishes us to shun, on account of the mischievous

consequences with which they are likely to be followed. With
respect to {hese two classes of habits considered in contrast
with each other, it is extremely worthy of observation, that the
former are incomparably more easy in the acquisition than the
latter ; while the latter, when once acquired, are (probably, in
consequence of this very circumstance, the difficulty of over-
coming our natural propensities) of at least equal efficacy in
subjecting all the powers of the will to their dominion.
That such habits as are reasonable and agreeable to nature
are more easily acquired than others of a contrary description,
is an old and common remark. It is well expressed, and very
happily illustrated in the following passage of Quintilian.
" The discipline of a virtuous and happy
and easy, life is short
nature having formed us for whatever is excellent, and having
so facilitated to a willing mind every acquisition which tends
to its improvement, as to render it wonderful that vice should
be so prevalent in the world. For as to fishes water is the
appropriate element to terrestrial animals the dry land and
; ;

to birds the surrounding atmosphere ; so to man it is certainly

more easy to follow the suggestions of Nature than to pursue
a plan of life contrary to her obvious intentions and arrange-
2
ments."
Of the peculiar difficulty of shaking off such inveterate
habits, as were at first the most repugnant to our taste and

1
Essays, Book III. chap. iii. Cotton's vor£ intuenti minim sit illud magis,
Translation. malos esse tani multos. Nam ut aqua
piscibus, ut sicca terrenis, circumfusus
2 " Brevis est institutio vitse honestao nobis spiritus volucribus convenit, ita
beateeque.Natura enim no9 ad men- certe facilius esse oportebat secundum
tem optimam genuit; adeoque discere naturam, quam contra earn vivere."
mcliora volentibus promptum est, ut Instit. Lib. XTT. cap. xi.

VOL. VII. Y
338 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

inclinations, we have a daily and a melancholy proof in the

case of those individuals who have suffered themselves to be-
come slaves to tobacco, to opium, and to other intoxicating
drugs, which, so far from possessing the attractions of plea-
surable sensations, are in a great degree revolting to an
unvitiated palate. The same thing is exemplified in many of
those acquired tastes which it is the great object of the art of
cookery to create and to gratify more remarkably in
; and still

those fatal habits which sometimes steal on the most amiable

characters, under the seducing form of social enjoyment, and
of a temporary respite from the evils of life.

I am Montaigne meant to
inclined, however, to think that
restrict his observations chiefly, if not solely, to habits which
are indifferent or nearly indifferent in their moral tendency,
and that all he is to be understood as asserting amounts to
this, that we ought not, in matters connected with the accom-
modations of human life, to enslave ourselves to one set of
habits in preference to another. In this sense his doctrine is

just and important ; and I have only to add to it, that in this
point of view also virtuous habits possess a distinguished
superiority not only over those which are immoral, but over
those which are merely innocent or inoffensive, inasmuch as
they lead us to associate the idea of happiness with objects
which depend infinitely less than any others on the caprice of
fortune, or rather with such as every wise and prudent man
has it in his power at all times to enjoy. This observation I
had occasion to illustrate formerly, when treating of the leading
Principles of the Stoical Philosophy, [p. 327, seq.].

SECT. IV. — CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT.

The foregoing remarks what may be called the
relate to
essentials of happiness —
the circumstances which constitute
;

the general state or habit of mind that is necessary to lay a

ground-work for every other enjoyment.
This foundation being supposed, the sum of happiness en-
 — —

PART II. —TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 4.) 339

joyed by an individual will be proportioned to the degree in

which he is able to secure all the various pleasures belonging
to our nature.
The most important of these pleasures may be referred to
the following heads :

1. The Pleasures of Activity and of Repose.

2. The Pleasures of Sense.
3. The Pleasures of Imagination.
4. The Pleasures of the Understanding.
5. The Pleasures of the Heart. 1

An examination and comparison of these different classes of

our enjoyments is necessary, even on the Stoical principles, to
complete the inquiry concerning happiness, in order to ascer-
tain the relative value of the different objects of choice and
rejection.
Such an examination, however, would lead into details in-
consistent with the plan, and foreign to the design of this work.
To those who choose to prosecute the subject, it opens a field

of speculation equally curious and useful, and much less ex-

hausted by moralists than might have been expected from its

importance. The following slight hints will be sufficient to

justify the classification now mentioned, and may perhaps sug-
gest some useful practical reflections.

[Subsect.] Pleasures of Activity and of Repose.

I.

I observed before, in treating of our Active Powers, that our

occasional propensities to Action and to Repose, are in some
respects analogous to our bodily appetites.* They common,
are
too, like them, to man and to the brutes ; for every animal we
know prompted by an instinctive impulse, to take that degree
is

of exercise which is conducive to health and vigour, and is pre-

vented from passing the bounds of moderation, by that languor

To make the enumeration more the species, they did not seem to require
complete, I might have added the Plea- a particular consideration at present,
sores of Taste ; but as these are con-
fined to a comparatively small number of * [ Works, Vol. VI. pp. 5 K 129]
340 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

and desire of repose which are consequences of continued

exertion.
A fact perfectly similar to this takes place with respect to
the mind. We are impelled by nature to the exercise of its

different faculties, and we are warned, when we are in danger

of overstraining them, by a consciousness of fatigue. In both
cases there is a pleasure annexed to the exercise of our powers ;

and this pleasure seems to be an ultimate fact in our constitu-

tion, not resolvable into any more simple or general source of
enjoyment. If I were disposed to suspect the possibility of any
such reference, would be to the pleasure arising from the
it

consciousness of power, of which I treated formerly, when con-

sidering our Natural Desires * But although these pleasures
are commonly so blended together, that it is difficult to dis-

criminate them, it might be clearly shown (if it were worth

while to enter into the metaphysical discussion) that they have
each their distinct origin in our. frame. As the view of the
subject, however, which I mean to take at present is entirely
practical, I do not think it necessary for me to attempt draw-
ing the line between two classes of enjoyment so very nearly
allied ; and it same reason that I have avoided
is for the
lengthening the enumeration, by stating the pleasures of power
as a separate article, the distinction between these and the plea-
sures of activity being too subtle and refined to strike the
generality of readers without a commentary.
It is not only with the pleasures of power that those of
activity may be united. They blend also with all the various
pleasures of sense, of the imagination, of the understanding,
and of the heart ; and
owing to the different effects of
it is

these combinations that some kinds of activity are more de-

lightful than others. And as the pleasures of activity are
heightened by their union with other gratifications, so a cer-
tain mixture of activity is necessary to give a zest to every
Other enjoy incut, or at least to them from ending
prevent
in languor and satiety. Eence the satisfaction with which
we may continue to enjoy the pleasures of the understanding
* [
Works. Vol. VI. pp. 8-10 166 160.]
 PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — QF HAPPINESS. (§ 4.) 341

during a length of time, to which it is impossible, by any

extend the more passive gratifications of the senses
artifice, to

or of the imagination, —
an important circumstance in our con-
stitution, which I shall afterwards illustrate more fully.

As I made several observations on the pleasures of activity,

when attempting to reconcile the physical evils in the condition
of man with a beneficent intention in the Author of his being,
I shall not enlarge farther on that topic at present. The
reasonings that were then stated, were, I flatter myself, suffi-

cient to authorize the general conclusion, that those very cir-

cumstances in the order of Providence, on which gloomy moral-
ists have founded their complaints, are impressed with the

strongest marks of beneficent wisdom. That, during our pro-

gress through life, we are destined never to arrive at the com-
pletion of our desires, but to be invited from stage to stage, by
one phantom of hope succeeding to another, is obviously a
necessary part of that constitution of things which appointed
constant activity to be an essential ingredient in human
happiness.
Of these pleasures of activity which invite man during the
period of his vigour to a continued course of exertion, either of
body or mind, the pleasures of repose may be considered as, in
our present state of imperfection, a natural and a necessary
consequence. They presuppose a general state of activity,
without which they can hardly be said to have any existence,
and resuming which they prepare and invigorate the
for
mind, as sleep prepares and disposes us for entering on the
duties of our waking hours. In this way they contribute
not inconsiderably from the beginning to the close of life

to diversify and to increase the sum of our enjoyments ; but

they constitute in a more essential manner, as Dr. Paley
still

has remarked, the supreme and the appropriate happiness of

old age.
" It is not for youth alone," says this pleasing writer, " that

the Great Parent of Creation hath provided. Happiness is

found in the arm chair of dozing age, as well as in either the

sprightliness of the dance, or the animation of the chase. To
 — ;

342 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

novelty, to acuteness of sensation, to hope, to ardour of pur-

suit, succeeds, what is in no inconsiderable a degree an equi-
valent for them all, 'perception of ease! Herein is the exact
difference between the young and the old. The young are not
happy but when enjoying pleasure the old are happy when ;

free from pain. And this constitution suits with the degrees
of animal power which they respectively possess. The vigour
of youth was to be stimulated to action by impatience of rest
whilst, to the imbecility of age, quietness and repose become
positive gratifications. This same perception of ease often-
times renders old age a condition of great comfort, especially
when riding at its anchor after a busy or tempestuous life. It
is by Kousseau, to be the interval of repose
well described
between the hurry and the end of life." 1
To this passage from Dr. Paley I shall subjoin an extract
from a very different writer, M. Diderot, — an author of un-
questionable eloquence and ingenuity, but who unfortunately
has not always employed his great talents for the best pur-
poses. The passage which I am from
to quote is, I think, far
being unexceptionable in point of sound philosophy, inasmuch
as it seems to ascribe to a state of repose, a positive and appro-
priate pleasure, independently of any reference to the lassitude
produced by a former state of exertion. It is, same time,
at the
in my opinion, highly exceptionable in point of good taste; and
may perhaps be produced without much injustice, as a fair
specimen of that false refinement, both in thought and in ex-

pression, which was fashionable among other philosophers of

the same school.
" He alone has experienced the ineffable charm of a delicious
repose,whose organs were sensible and delicate who received ;

from nature a soul that was tender, and a frame that was
voluptuous who enjoyed perfect health who was in the
; ;

flower of his years ; whose mind was overcast with no cloud,

whose heart was agitated by no keen emotion who, after the ;

fatigue of some gentle exertion, felt, in all the parts of his

frame, a pleasure so equally diffused, that he was unconscious
>ural Theology pp 498, 494. [Chap. x.wi.J
 PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPriNESS. (§ 4.) 343

In that moment of relaxation and en-

of any local sensation.
chantment, no memory remained with him of the past, no
desire of the future, no anxiety about the present. The flight
of time was unperceived ; from him-
for his happiness flowed
self, and seemed part of his being. By an imperceptible move-
ment he was tending towards sleep but during the slow and ;

insensible transition, while all his powers were sinking, he was

still enough awake to enjoy the delights of his existence an ;

enjoyment, however, altogether passive, which excited no at-

—
tachment to itself, suggested no matter for reflection, was —
accompanied with no sentiment of self-congratulation. If it
were possible to form a steady conception of this situation so
wholly sensitive, where all the faculties of mind and of body
are alive without being in action, and to attach to this deli-
cious quietism the idea of immutability, a notion would be
formed of the highest and purest happiness that the mind of
man is able to imagine." 1

1
Encyclopedic, Art. Delicieux. palais en est flatte le plus agreablement
I recollect to have heard, somewhat qu'il est possible. Le delicieux est le
more than forty years ago, at the time plaisir extreme de la sensation du gout.
when Diderot's reputation was at its On a generalise son acception, et Ton a
highest point in his own country, this dit d'un sejour qu'il est delicieux, lors-
passage quoted hy some of his Parisian que tous les objets qu'on y rencontre re-
friends and admirers, as one of the rich- veillent les idees les plus douces, ou
est gems to be found in his writings. excitent les sensations les plus agreables.
That it was considered as such by him- Le suave extreme est le delicieux des
self Ihave no doubt, not only from the odeurs. Le repos a aussi son delice.
scrupulous care with which he has evi- Mais qu'est-ce qu'un repos delicieux f
dently weighed every expression it con- Celui-la seul en aconnu le charme in-
tains, but from the circumstance of his exprimable, dont les organes etoient
giving a place in this magnificent work sensibles et delicats ;
qui avoit recu de
to so unmeaning an article. Nothing lanature une ame tondre et un tempera-
but the overweening partiality of an ment voluptueux qui jouissoit d'une
;

author could have induced Diderot to sante parfaite ;

qui se trouvoit a la fleur
introduce into a book of science such a de son .age ;
qui n'avoit l'esprit trouble
comment consisting of mere verbiage, d'aucun nuage, l'ame agiteo d'aucune
upon the import of a word which stood emotion trop vive ;
qui sortoit d'uno
in need of no explanation. I subjoin the fatigue douce et legere, et qui eprou-
original at length as a sort of literary voit dans toutes les parties de son corps
curiosity. un plaisir si cg.ilement repandu, qu'il
" Delicieux : le terme est propre a ne se faisoit distingucr dans aucuno.
1'organe du gout; nous disons d'un mets, II ne lui restoit dans cc moment d'en-
d'un vin, qu'il est delicieux, lorsque le chantcmmit et de foiblesso, ni roomoiro
344 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

As these dreams, however, of an Epicurean happiness are

but too flattering to the romantic indolence of youthful minds,
it may be useful to refer the reader (for the passage is much
too long for a quotation) to another picture drawn by a still

superior hand ; and (what is of still greater consequence) a

picture copied faithfully after nature. I allude to the truly
eloquent description given by Gibbon of the primitive monks,
—a set of men whose notions of the Sovereign Good were cer-
tainly very different from those of Diderot, but whose melan-
choly history affords an instructive lesson to all who search for
happiness in a total exemption from labour, both of body and
mind. In this unnatural state, not even the prospect of lasting
bliss beyond the grave was able long to support the alacrity of
the ward off those miseries which habits of soli-
spirits, or to

tary inaction entail on the imagination. " The vacant hours of

the monk," says Gibbon, " heavily rolled along without busi-
ness or pleasure, and before the close of each day he had
repeatedly cursed the tedious progress of the sun/' 1 The whole
of the passage may be perused with much advantage ; and
abundantly justifies an assertion of Dr. Ferguson's, that even
the complaints of the sufferer are not so sure a mark of misery
as the stare of the languid?

du passe, ni dcsir de l'avenir, ni in- pensee cette situation de pur sentiment,

quietude sur le present. Le terns avoit ou toutes les facultes du corps et de
cesse de couler pour lui, parce qu'il l'ame sont vivantes sans etre agissantes,
cxistoit tout en lui-meme le sentiment ; et attacher a, ce quietisme delicieux
D bonheur ne s'affoiblissoit qu'avec l'idee d'imniutabilite, on se formeroit la
celui de son existence. II passoit par notion du bonheur le plus grand et le

un mouveinent imperceptible, de la plus pur que I'homine puisse imagincr."

veille au sommeil mais sur ce passage
; If the reader is desirous to see a
imperceptible, an milieu de la dcfaillance longer and still more elaborate 6peci-
de toutes ses faculty's, il veilloit encore men of the same sort of writing by the
•. sinon pour pcnscr a quclquo chose 6ame hand, he may turn to the article
lie moins pour sentir touts
distinct, <lu Jouissance, in the Encyclopedic.
Is douceur de son existence Mais il :
1
Decline and Fall, &c, Vol. VI. p.
en jonissoit d'une jouissance tout-a-fait
262. Edition of 1792.

2
rlfllchir, ii rejouir, sans sen E$9&y on the History of Civil So-
feliciter; — si I'on poavoit fixer par la cisfy , Part L sect. tu.
 —

.PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 4.) 345

[Subsect.] Pleasures of Sense.

II.

I mentioned, in the second place, the Pleasures of Sense ;

another class of our enjoyments which is common to man and
to the brutes and which, notwithstanding the space they
;

occupy in the imagination of most men, must be allowed to

stand at the very bottom of the scale, whether we regard them
in connexion with the nobler principles of our nature, or esti-

mate from the accession they bring to the sum of

their value
our happiness. When I say this I would not be understood to
dispute the real and substantial addition which they make to
our happiness, in so far as it is in our power to command them.
I would only observe, that their intensity is in general greatly
overrated, in consequence of certain accessory pleasures of the
imagination or of the heart, which are commonly associated
with them. By means of these, too, their grossness is kept out
of view, and they appear with many borrowed attractions to
the inexperienced and unsuspecting minds of youth. Xo
epicure is to be found who will openly plead the cause of private

and solitary sensuality ;

or who will maintain that our animal
^ratifications would form an important part of human happi-
ness, if divested of those recommendations which they derive
from the fancy, and from the social enjoyments with which
they are blended.
But whatever may be the intensity and the value of these
pleasures during the time we enjoy them, it is altogether im-
possible to make them fill up any considerable portion of human
life. Their province is circumscribed by nature within very
narrow bounds, and every attempt to extend these frustrates its

own purpose. It does not appear, therefore, that nature in-

tended that the pursuit of them should be considered as a

serious or important object and, indeed, wherever this is
;

suffered to take place, it is at the expense of all the worthier

principles of our constitution. Health, and fortune, and fame

seldom fail to fall sacrifices in the progress of the evil which,

in its last stage, destroys the intellectual powers and the moral
sensibilities, and produces a languor and depression of mind
which is the completion of human misery.
346 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

To all this it may be added, that the pleasures of sense are

confined to the very moment of gratification, affording no satis-
faction in the retrospect, like that which follows our intellectual
exertions, and still more our good actions.
The result of these observations is, not that the pleasures of
sense are unworthy the regard of a wise man, but that they
should be confined within those limits which are marked out by
the obvious intentions of nature. That they are to be enjoyed
in the greatest perfection in a life of virtue, we have the
testimony of Epicurus himself; according to whose system
prudence, temperance, and the other virtues, derive all their
value from their tendency to increase the sum of bodily enjoy-
ment, and to lessen that of bodily suffering, —a most erroneous
and absurd doctrine undoubtedly, when considered in connexion
with the theory of morals, but highly interesting in a practical
light, as an acknowledgment from the professed votaries of
pleasure, that a life of virtue (even if our views did not extend
beyond the present scene) is the truest wisdom.

[Subsect.] III. Pleasures of the Imagination.

The Pleasures of the Imagination are unquestionably of a
higher rank than those of Sense, and may be protracted to a
much longer period without any danger of injuring the health,
or of impairing the faculties, or of exhausting that inestimable
fund of constitutional enjoyment, which we commonly express
by the phrase animal spirits. On the contrary, they have a
tendency to raise the taste above the grossness of sensuality,
and to diminish the temptation to vicious indulgences, by fur-
nishing agreeable and innocent resources for up the
filling

blanks of life. By supplying us, too, with pleasures more re-

fined than those the senses afford, they gradually prepare us for
the still higher enjoyments which belong to us as rational and
moral beings ; and indeed, when properly regulated, they may
be rendered subservient, in a high degree, both to our intellec-
tual and moral improvement.
Even to this class of our pleasures, however, certain limits
Are prescribed by nature; for although in enjoying them the
 —
PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 4.) 347

mind not quite so passive as in receiving the gratifications of

is

sense, yet many of its most important principles are left wholly
unemployed and accordingly, when they are prolonged beyond
;

their due bounds, we lose all relish for them, and feel a desire
of more active and more interesting engagements. I shall not
insist at present on the effects which result to the moral char-

acter from an excessive indulgence in the pleasures of the

Imagination, in consequence of their tendency to unfit us for
action, and to give us a disrelish for real life, as my object in
these observations is merely to consider them as sources of en-
joyment. I have treated besides of this subject at some length
in the first volume of the Philosophy of the Human Mind*

[Subsect.] IV. Pleasures of the Understanding.

The Pleasures which I have referred to the Understanding
might perhaps have been characterized more explicitly, " as
pleasures arising from the exercise of our reasoning and of our
inventive powers." Of this kind is the pleasure of investiga-
tion, (which resolves partly into the pleasure of activity, partly

into that resulting from the employment of skill, partly into

that arising from expectation and hope, or, in other words,
from the anticipation of discovery.) 2. The pleasure of gene-
ralization, or of rising from particular truths to comprehensive
theorems, — a process which, beside the satisfaction it yields by
the relief it brings to the memory, communicates to us a senti-
ment of our intellectual power, by subjecting completely to our
command a mass of information which before only served to
distract our attention, and to oppress our faculties. 3. To all

this we may add, the pleasure resulting from the gratification

of curiosity, and from the discovery of truth, of which I had
formerly occasion to treat under the article of the Active
Powers.f With these pleasures, too, which are peculiar to the
understanding, various accessory ones are combined ; the plea-
sure (for example) of extensive utility, when our studies happen
to be directed to objects interesting to mankind the pleasure
;

* [Chap. \\\— Supra, Work*, Vol. II. pp. 431-470.J

i[Worka, Vol. VI. pp. 5, 6, 131-135.]
 —

848 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MOKAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

arising from the gratification of ambition ; and the social satis-

faction of communicating our knowledge to others. Perhaps,

however, the principal recommendation of this class of our
pleasures is derived from the constant and inexhaustible re-
sources they supply to the mind in its progress through life.
In this respect they possess many advantages over the pleasures
of imagination ;not only as they depend much less on the state
of the spirits, but as they may be extended to a much longer
period without satiety or a desire of change, and are frequently
enjoyed with increasing relish in old age ; while, on the other
hand, the objects which interest the imagination gradually lose
their charms when we begin to engage in the business of the
world, and furnish at best but an amusement and relaxation to
diversify our habitual and more serious occupations. Upon the
whole, among the various subordinate pursuits to which men
are led to devote themselves by inclination or taste, (I say sub-
ordinate, for I do not speak at present of our moral duties,) a
turn for science may be safely pronounced to be the happiest of
any and that which we may venture with the greatest confi-
;

dence to recommend to youth as the most solid foundation for

the future comfort of their lives more particularly when we
;

consider how very little the pleasures of the understanding de-

pend on external circumstances, and on the caprice of fortune.
The happiest individuals certainly whom I have happened to
know have been men, who, with a due relish for the pleasures
of imagination, have devoted themselves steadily and ardently
to philosophical pursuits, and more particularly to the study of
the severer sciences.

[Subsect.] V. Pleasures of the Heart.

Under this title 1 comprehend the Pleasures of Benevolence,

of Friendship, of Love, of Pity, of enjoying the Favour and

Esteem of others, and above all, the pleasure resulting from
the consciousness of doing our Duty; — the purest and most
exquisite enjoyments undoubtedly of which we have any expe-
rience; and which, by blending in one way or other with our
other gratifications, impart to them their principal charm.
 PART II. — TO OURSELVES. CHAP. IV. — OF HAPPINESS. (§ 4.) 349

This has been often remarked with respect to the pleasures of

Sense and the same remark may be extended to the pleasures
;

of Activity and of the Understanding.

The practical conclusion resulting from the inquiry is, that
the wisest plan of economy, with respect to our pleasures, is not
merely compatible with a strict observance of the rules of
morality, but is, in a great measure, comprehended in these
rules ; and therefore, that the happiness, as well, as the perfec-
tion of our nature, consists in doing our duty with as little
solicitude about the event as is consistent with the weakness of
humanity. Nothing indeed more remarkable in this view of
is

human nature than the tendency of virtuous habits to systema-

tize the conduct for the purpose of happiness, and to open up
all the various sources of enjoyment in our constitution without
suffering any one to encroach upon the rest. They establish a
proper balance among our different principles of action, and by
doing so produce a greater sum of enjoyment on the whole, than
we could have obtained by allowing any one in particular to
gain an ascendant over our conduct. It was from a mistaken
view of this very important fact that the Epicurean system of
old arose, as well as those modern theories which represent
Virtue as only a different name for rational Self-love. They
indeed coincide so wonderfully together, as to illustrate, in the
most striking manner, the unity as well as the beneficence of
design in the human constitution. But still, (as I before re-
marked,) notwithstanding these happy effects of a virtuous life,
the principle of Duty and the desire of Happiness are radically
distinct from each other. The peace of mind, indeed, which is
the immediate reward of good actions, and the sense of merit
with which they are accompanied, create, independently of ex-
perience, a very strong presumption in favour of the connexion
between Happiness and Virtue ; but the facts in human life

which justify this conclusion are not obvious to careless specta-

tors ; nor would philosophers in every age have agreed so un-
animously in adopting it, if they had not been led to the truth
by a shorter and more direct process, than an examination of
the remote consequences of virtuous and of vicious conduct.
350 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

To this observation it may be added, that if the desire of

happiness were the sole, or even the ruling principle of action
in a good man, it could scarcely fail to frustrate its own object,
by filling his mind with anxious conjectures about futurity,
and with perplexing calculations of the various chances of
good and evil; whereas he, whose ruling principle of action is
a sense of duty, conducts himself in the business of life with
and dignity and finds himself rewarded
boldness, consistency, ;

by that happiness which so often eludes the pursuit of those

who exert every faculty of the mind in order to attain it.
 CHAPTER V.

[GENERAL RESULT:— OF THE NATURE AND ESSENCE OF VIRTUE.]

SECT. I. — OF THE DIFFERENT THEORIES WHICH HAVE BEEN FORMED

CONCERNING THE OBJECT OF MORAL APPROBATION.

It was before remarked, that the different theories of Virtue

which have prevailed in modern times, have arisen chiefly from
attempts to trace all the branches of our duty to one principle
of action ; such as a rational Self-love, Benevolence, Justice,
or a disposition to obey the Will of God.
That none of these theories is agreeable to fact, may be col-
lected from the reasonings which have been already stated.
The harmony, however, which exists among our various good
dispositions, and their general coincidence in determining us
to the same course of life, bestows on all of them, when skil-
fully proposed, a certain degree of plausibility.
The systematical spirit from which they have taken their
rise, although a fertile source of error, has not been without its

use inasmuch as it has roused the attention of ingenious men

;

to the most important of all studies, that of the end and des-
tination of human life. The facility, at the same time, with
which a variety of consequences may all be traced
so great
from distinct principles, affords a demonstration of that unity
and consistency of design, which is still more conspicuous in
the moral than in the material world.

SECT. II. — OF THE GENERAL DEFINITION OF VIRTUE.

Having taken a cursory survey of the chief branches of our
Duty, we are prepared to enter on the general question con-
 —

352 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

cerning the Nature and Essence of Virtue. In fixing on the

arrangement of this part of my subject, it appeared to me more
agreeable to the established rules of philosophizing, to consider,
first, our duties in detail ; and after having thus laid a solid
foundation in the way of analysis, to attempt to rise to the
general idea in which all our duties concur, than to circum-
scribe our inquiries, at our first outset, within the limits of an
arbitrary and partial definition. What I have now to offer,
therefore, will consist of little more than some obvious and
necessary consequences from principles which have been already
stated.
The various duties which have been considered, all agree
with each other in one common quality, that of being obliga-
tory on rational and voluntary agents and they are all en- ;

joined by the same authority, the authority of Conscience.

These duties, therefore, are but different articles of one laic,
which is properly expressed by the word Virtue.
An observation to the same purpose is put into the mouth
of Socrates by Plato. " So likewise concerning the virtues
;

though they are many and various, there is one common idea
belonging to them all, by which they are virtues." Ovtw Brj
kcli irepi twv apercov, kclv et woWac Kat iravrohairai euaiv, ev

ye re elBos ravrov airaaat eypvai hi 6 eujiv aperac. 1

As all the virtues are enjoined by the same authority, (the
authority of Conscience,) the man whose ruling principle of
action is a sense of duty, will observe all the different virtues
with the same reverence and the same zeal. He who lives in
the habitual neglect of any one of them shows plainly, that
where his conduct happens to coincide with what the rules of
morality prescribe, it owing merely to an accidental agree-
is

ment between his duty and his inclination and that he is not ;

actuated by that motive which can alone render our conduct

meritorious. It is justly said, therefore, that to live in the
habitual practice of any one vice, is to throw off our allegiance
to conscience and t<> our Maker, as decidedly as if we had
violated all the rules which duty prescribes; and it is in this

1
In Men me, editio Serrani, Tom. II. p. 72, [§ i?.]
 CHAP. V. — GENERAL RESULT ; ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. (§ 2.) 353

sense, I presume, that we ought to interpret that passage

of the Sacred Writings, in which it is said, " He who
keepeth the whole law, and offendeth in one point, is guilty
ofalV
The word Virtue, however, (as I shall have occasion to re-
mark more particularly in the next section,) is applied not only
to express a particular course of external conduct, but to ex-
press a particular species or description of human character.
When so applied, it seems properly to denote a habit of mind,
as distinguished from occasional acts of duty. It was formerly
said that the characters of men receive their denominations of
covetous, voluptuous, ambitious, &c\, from the particular active
principle which prevailingly influences the conduct. A man,
accordingly, whose ruling or habitual principle of action is a
sense of duty, or a regard to what is right, may be properly
denominated virtuous. Agreeably to this view of the subject,
the ancient Pythagoreans defined Yirtue to be 'JSft? tov
l
8eoiT09 ; we have any
the oldest definition of Virtue of which
account, and one of the most unexceptionable which is yet to
be found in any system of philosophy.
This account of virtue coincides very nearly with what I
conceive to be Dr. Reid's, from some passages in his Essays on
the Active Powers of Man* Virtue he seems to consider as
consisting " in a fixed purpose or resolution to act according to
our sense of duty."
" Suppose a man," says he, " to have exercised his intellec-

tual and moral faculties so far as to have distinct notions of

justice and injustice, and of the consequences of both, and after
due deliberation to have formed a fixed purpose to adhere
1
Gale's Opuscula Myihologica, &c. Aristotle and Deontology (the doctrine
;

p. 690. ofDuty) is aD excellent name for Ethics,

[The edition of Gale here quoted is and has been actually so applied by an
the second, that of Amsterdam, 1688.— English philosopher since the publica-
The adduced in the
definition of Virtue tion of the present book.— I have had
text by the Pseudo-Theages is by
is ; occasion, once and again, to notice,

him repeated, p. 693 and is likewise

;
that the Pythagorean Fragments are all
given by the Pseudo-Archytas, p. 678. spurious. See of this Work, Vol. I. pp.
As Mr. Stewart observes, it is unexcep- 105, 322, and Vol. II. p. 304.— Ed]
tionable, being an improvement upon * [Essay II. chap. iii. ; Works,p. 540]

VOL. VII. z
354 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

inflexibly to justice, and never to handle the wages of ini-

quity :

"Is not this the man whom we should call a just man ?

We consider the moral virtues as inherent in the mind of a

good man, even where there is no opportunity of exercising
them. And what is it in the mind which we can call the virtue
of justice when it is not exercised ? It can be nothing but a
fixed purpose or determination to act according to the rules of
justice when there is opportunity."
With all this I perfectly agree. It is the fixed purpose to
do what is right, which evidently constitutes what we call a
virtuous disposition. But it appears to me that virtue, con-
sidered as an attribute of character, is more properly defined
by the habit which the fixed purpose gradually forms, than by
the fixed purpose from the external habit alone
itself. It is
that other men can judge of the purpose and it is from the ;

uniformity and spontaneity of his habit that the individual

himself must judge how far his purposes are sincere and
steady.
I have said that this account of Virtue coincides with the de-
finition of it given by the ancient Pythagoreans ; and it also
coincides with the opinion of Aristotle, by whom the ethical
doctrine of the Pythagoreans was rendered much more com-
plete and satisfactory. According to this philosopher the dif-
ferent virtues are "practical habits, voluntary in their origin,
and agreeable to right reason." 1 This last philosopher seems
indeed to have considered the subject of habits in general more
attentively than any other writer of antiquity ; and he has sug-
gested some important hints with respect to them, which well

1
"E*ii{ TfxxTiKet), — ip' fi/x7», — xeci ixtC- throughout, from beginning to end ;
but
r/»«, Boo. — ^Aristotle's [Xicomachian] the beginnings only o( habits, which
EtMiet, Book III. chap, v.) Imme- gain force, like maladies, by degrees,
diatcly after, Aristotle <'\eellontly ob- until they become irresistible; even
s, (from an evident anxiety to these, however, are also voluntary, since
impress on hi^ readeri the lurcs-ary their causes were such, namely, the
dependence of Morality on the Free- actions by which they were formed."
flfan;) " Actions and Habits Aristotle's Ethics and Politics, by Dr

voluntary
tee); in the same lenee Gillies, Vol. I. p. 806. — [See also Mag.
; the former are vulunt.. \ l/.>r. Lib. T. cap. i
]
 CHAP. V. — GENERAL RESULT ; ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. (§ 2.) 355

deserve the attention of those who may turn their thoughts to

this very interesting class of facts in the human constitution.
In referring to these doctrines of the ancient schools, I am
far from proceeding on the supposition, that questions of science
are to be decided by authority. But I own it always appears
to me to afford a strong presumption in favour of any conclu-
sion concerning the principles of human nature, when we find
it sanctioned by the judgment of those who have been led to it

by separate and independent processes of reasoning. For the

same reason I think it of consequence to remark the coinci-
dence between the account now given of Virtue and that of Mr.
Hobbes, one of the most sceptical, but, at the same time, one
of the most acute and original of our English metaphysicians.
" Virtue," says he, " is the habit of doing according to those
laws of Nature that tend to our preservation and Vice is the ;

habit of doing the contrary."* The definition, indeed, is faulty,^

in so far as it involves the author's selfish theory of morals ; but
in considering the word virtue as expressive of a habit of
action, it approaches nearer to the truth than the greater part
of the definitions of virtue to be found in the writings of the
moderns.
These observations lead to an explanation of what has at
first sight the appearance of paradox in the ethical doctrines of

Aristotle, that where there is self-denial there is no virtue.

That the merit of particular actions is increased by the self-
denial with which they are accompanied cannot be disputed
but it is only when we are learning the practice of our duties
that this self-denial is exercised, (for the practice of morality, as
well as of everything else, is facilitated by repeated acts;) and
therefore, if the word virtue be employed to express that habit
of mind which it is the great object of a good man to confirm,
it will follow, that, in proportion as he approaches to it, his
efforts of self-denial must diminish, and that all occasion for
them would cease if his end were completely attained.
The definition of virtue given by Aristotle, as consisting in
" right practical habits voluntary in their origin" is well

* [De Corpore Politico, Part T. ck*p. it. § 14. — Works, in folio, p. 47.]
356 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

illustratedby what Plutarch has told us of the means by which

u I have
he acquired the mastery over his irascible passions.
always approved," says he, " of the engagements and vows im-
posed on themselves from motives of religion, by certain philo-
sophers, to abstain from wine, or from some other favourite
indulgence, for the space of a year. I have also approved of
the determination taken by others not to deviate from the
truth, even in the lightest conversation, during a particular
period. Comparing my own mind with theirs, and conscious
that I yielded to none of them in reverence for God, I tasked
myself, in the first instance, not to give way to anger, upon
any occasion for several days. I afterwards extended this
resolution to a month or longer ; and having thus made a trial

of what I could do, I have learned at length never to speak

but with gentleness, and so carefully to watch over my temper
as never to purchase the short and unprofitable gratification
of venting my resentment at the expense of a lasting and
1
humiliating remorse/'
I must not dismiss recommending, not
this topic without
merely to the perusal, but to the diligent study of all who have
a taste for moral inquiries, Aristotle's Nicomaehian Ethics, in
which he has examined, with far greater accuracy than any
other author of antiquity, the nature of habits considered in
their relation to our moral constitution. The whole treatise is
indeed of great value, and, with the exception of a few passages,
almost justifies the very warm and unqualified eulogium pro-
nounced upon by a learned divine (Dr. Rennel) before the
it

—
University of Cambridge, an eulogium in which he goes so
very far as to assert of this work, " that it affords not only the
most perfect specimen of scientific morality, but exhibits also
the powers of the most compact and best constructed system
which the humcui intellect ever produced upon any subject ;
enlivening occasionally great severity of method, and strict
precision of terms, by the sublimest though soberest splendour
of diction."'2
1

Dt Ira [Ookibmdm. 0/*ra, eJitioues Xylan Jri, Tom. II. p. 453, seq.\
« guoted by Dr. Gillies, Vol. I. p, BB7.
 CHAP. V. GENERAL RESULT J
ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. (§ 3.) 357

For the use of English readers an excellent translation of

Aristotle's Ethics and also of his Politics has been published
by Dr. Gillies; and indeed I do not know of any treatises,
among the many remains of antiquity, which could have been
selected as a more important accession to the stock of our
national literature.

SECT. III. — ON AN AMBIGUITY IN THE WORDS RIGHT AND WRONG,

VIRTUE AND VICE.

The and Wrong, Virtuous and Vicious, are

epithets Right
applied sometimes to external actions, and sometimes to the
intentions of the agent. A similar ambiguity may be remarked
in the corresponding words in other languages.
This ambiguity is owing to various causes, which it is not
necessary at present to trace. Among other circumstances, it

is owing to the association of ideas, which, as it leads us to

connect notions of elegance or of meanness with many arbitrary
expressions in language, so it often leads us to connect notions
of Right and Wrong with external actions, considered ab-
stractly from the motives which produced them. It is owing
(at least in part) to this, that a man who has been involuntarily
the author of any calamity to another, can hardly by any
reasoning banish his feelings of remorse and, on the other
;

hand, however wicked our purposes may have been, if by any

accident we have been prevented from carrying them into
execution, we are apt to consider ourselves as far less culpable
than if we had perpetrated the crimes that we had intended.
It is much in the same manner that we think it less criminal
to mislead others by hints, or looks, or actions, than by a verbal
lie ; and in general, that we think our guilt diminished if we
can only contrive to accomplish our ends without employing
those external signs, or those external means, with which we
have been accustomed to associate the notions of guilt and
infamy. Shakespeare has painted with philosophical accuracy
this natural subterfuge of a vicious mind, in which the sense
 ; ; ;

358 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

of duty some authority, in one of the exquisite

still retains
scenes between King John and Hubert: —
" Hadst thou but shook thy head, and made a pause
"When I spake darkly what I purposed
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face
Or bade me tell my tale in express words
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,

And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me.

But thou didst understand me by my signs,

And didst in sujns again parky icith sin."

As this twofold application of the words Right and Wrong

to the intentions of the mind, and to external actions, has a
tendency, in the common business of life, to affect our opinions
concerning the merits of individuals, so it has misled the
theoretical speculations of some very eminent philosophers in
their inquiries concerning the principles of morals. It was to
obviate the confusion of ideas arising from this ambiguity of
language that the distinction between absolute and relative
rectitude was introduced into ethics and as the distinction is
;

equally just and important, it will be proper to explain it par-

ticularly, and to point out its application to one or two of the
questions which have been perplexed by that vagueness of ex-
pression which it is our object at present to correct.
An action may be said to be absolutely right, when it is in
every respect suitable to the circumstances in which the agent
is placed ; or, in other words, when it is such as, with perfectly
good intentions, under the guidance of an enlightened and well-
informed understanding, he would have performed.
An action may be said to be relatively right, when the inten-
tions of the agent are sincerely good, whether his conduct be
suitable to his circumstances or not.
According to these definitions, an action may be right in one
sense and wrong in another an ambiguity in language, which,
;

how obvious soever, lias not always been attended to by the

writers on morals.
It is the relative rectitude of an action which determines the
moral desert of the agent ; but it is its absolute rectitude which
 ;

CHAP. V. — GENERAL RESULT ; ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. (§ 3.) 359

determines its utility to his worldly interests, and to the wel-

fare of society. And it is only so far as absolute and relative
rectitude coincide, that utility can be affirmed to be a quality
of virtue.
A strong sense of duty will indeed induce us to avail our-
selves of all the talents we possess, and of all the information
within our reach, to act agreeably to the rules of absolute recti-
tude. And if we fail in doing so, our negligence is criminal.
'•'
Climes committed through ignorance," as Aristotle has very
judiciously observed, u are only excusable when the ignorance
is involuntary ; when the cause of
for it lies in ourselves, it is

then justly punishable. The ignorance of those laws which all

may know if they will, does not excuse the breach of them
and neglect is not pardonable where attention ought to be
bestowed. But perhaps we are incapable of attention. This,
however, is our own fault ; since the incapacity has been con-
tracted by our continual carelessness ; as the evils of injustice
and intemperance are contracted by the daily commission of
iniquity, and the daily indulgence in voluptuousness. For such
1
as our actions are, such must our habits become."
Notwithstanding, however, the truth and the importance of
this doctrine, the general principle already stated remains in-
controvertible, that in every particular instance our duty con-
sists in doing what appears to us to be right at the time ; and
if. while we follow this rule, we should incur any blame, our
demerit does not arise from acting according to an erroneous
judgment, but from our previous misemployment of the means
we possessed for correcting the errors to which our judgment
2
is liable.

From these principles it follows, that actions, although ma-

terially right, are not meritorious with respect to the agent,
unless performed from a sense of duty. This conclusion,
indeed, has been disputed by Mr. Hume, upon grounds which

1
A ristode?* Eth :]ies, p. 305. made between absolute and relative rec-
[In the original, Book III. chap. v. ude was expressed among the school-
tit

Wilkinson's edition.] men by the phrases material and formal

2
A distinction similar to that now virtue.
 — — —

360 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

1
I cannot stop to examine j
but its truth is necessarily implied
in the foregoing reasonings, and it is perfectly consonant to
the sentiments of the soundest moralists, both ancient and
modern. Aristotle inculcates this doctrine in many parts of
his Ethics. In one passage he represents it as essential to
2
virtuous actions, that the actions are done eve/ca rod /cakov :

3
and in another place he says ecrrt, yap avrr) 1} evirpagia tc\o?.
To the same purpose also Lord Shaftesbury.* " In this case
alone it is we call any creature worthy or virtuous, when it can
attain to the speculation or science of what is morally good or
ill, admirable or blameable, right or wrong. For though we
may vulgarly call an ill horse vicious ;
yet we never say of a
good one, nor of any mere changeling or idiot, though never so

good-natured, that he is worthy or virtuous. So that if a

creature be generous, kind, constant, and compassionate, yet
if he cannoton what he himself does or sees others do,
reflect

so as to take notice of what is worthy or honest, and make that

notice or conception of worth and honesty to be an object of
his affection, he has not" the character of being virtuous, for
thus,and no otherwise, he is capable of having a sense of Eight
or Wrong/' And elsewhere he observes, " that if that which
restrains a person and holds him to a virtuous-like behaviour,
be no affection towards virtue or goodness itself, but towards
4
private good merely, he is not in reality the more virtuous."

1
Treatise of Human Nature, Vol. Active Powers of Man, has a particular
III. p. 41, etseq. First edition, [Book chapter allotted to the consideration of
III. Part ii. sect. 1.] "I suppose a tins very question, " Whether an action
person to have lent me a sum of money," deserving moral approbation must be
&c. &f\ done with the belief of its being morally
2 A/ Ji *.ar «f 1 tyiv T^a.\iii xa.\a), xec) rov good?" [Essay V. chap. iv. Works, p.
*aXflw tnmm. Eth. Nic. Lib. IV. cap. i. 646, seq.] In this the doctrine ho en-
— [Sec also Maq. Mor. Lib. I. cap. i.] deavours to establish in opposition to
* Eth. Nic. Lib. VI. cap. v. Mr. Hume, is precisely the 6ame with
* [
Oharaeterittict, Vol. II. Inquiry that which has been now stated. " The
ning Virtue and Merit, Book I. fallacy of Mr. Ilume/s reasoning," he
Part ii. KCt. 8, p. 80, edition 1711.] observe?, " arises from the double sense
* Dr. Price, in bis Review, lias made of the words moral goodness. We as-
r number of judicioui observations on cribe it to actions considered abstractly,
this subject, (see especially chap, viii.|; without any relation to the agent. We
an.! l>r. Reid, in bin Ettayi an th* likewise ascribe moral goodness to an
 —
CHAP. V.— GENERAL RESULT J
ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. (§ 4.) 361

SECT. IV. — OF THE OFFICE AND USE OF REASON IN THE PRACTICE

OF MORALITY.
I formerly observed that a strong sense of duty, while it

leads us to cultivate with care our good dispositions, will induce

us to avail ourselves of all the means in our power for the wise
regulation of our external conduct. The occasions on which it

is necessary for us to employ our Beason in this way are chiefly

the three following :

1. When we have ground for suspecting that our moral

judgments and feelings may have been warped and perverted
by the prejudices of education.
I formerly showed that the moral faculty is an original
principle of the human constitution, and not the result (as
Mandeville and others suppose) of habits superinduced by
systems of education planned by politicians and divines. The
moral faculty indeed, like the faculty of reason, (which forms
the most essential of its elements,) requires care and cultiva-
tion for its development ; and, like reason, it has a gradual
progress, both in the case of individuals and of societies. But

agent on account of an action he has more than the truth of a proposition

done. With respect to the agent, a depends upon our believing it to be
good action is undoubtedly that in true. But when a man exerts his ac-
which he applied his intellectual powers tive powers well or ill, there is a moral
properly, in order to judge what he goodness or turpitude which we figura-
ought to do, and acted according to his tively impute to the action, but which
best judgment. This is all that can be is truly and properly imputable to the

required of a moral agent, and in this man only; and this goodness or turpitude
his moral goodness in any good action depends very much upon the intention
consists. But is this the goodness and the opinion he had of his action."
which we ascribe to an action considered The only correction I would beg
abstractly ? No, surely. Goodness in leave to make on the foregoing passage
an action considered abstractly lies in is, whereas Dr. Reid says, " the
that,
this, and in this only, that it is an ac- goodness or turpitude of an action de-
tion which ought to be done by those pends very much upon the intention of
who have the power and opportunity, the agent, and the opinion he had of
and the capacity to perceive their obli- his action," I would say that it de-
gation to do it. Now, it is evident that pends on these circumstances entirely or
the goodness of an action considered solely. This indeed is a consequence
abstractly can have no dependence upon following necessarily from his own prin-
the opinion or belief of an agent, any ciples.
 ;

362 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. III. DUTIES TO MEN.

it does not follow from this that the former is a factitious

principle any more than the latter, with respect to the origin
of which I do not know that any doubts have been suggested
by the greatest sceptics.
Although, however, the moral faculty is an original part of
the human frame, and although the great laws of morality are
engraven on every heart, it is not in this way that the greater
part of mankind arrive at their first knowledge of them. The
infant mind is formed by the care of our early instructors, and
for a long time thinks and acts in consequence of the confidence
it reposes in their superior judgment. All this is undoubtedly
agreeable to the design of Nature, and, indeed, if the case were
otherwise, the business of the world could not possibly go on ;

for nothing can be plainer than this, that the multitude, (at
least as society is actually constituted,) condemned as they are
to laborious employments, inconsistent with the cultivation of
their mental faculties, are wholly incapable of forming their
own opinions on the most important questions which can
occupy the human mind. It is evident, at the same time, that,
asno system of education can be perfect, many prejudices must
mingle with the most important and best ascertained truths
and as the truths and the prejudices are both acquired from
the same source, the incontrovertible evidence of the one serves,
in the progress of human and confirm the
reason, to support
other. Hence the suspicious and jealous eye with which we
ought to regard all those principles which we have at first
—
adopted without due examination, a duty doubly incumbent
on those whose opinions are likely, from their rank and situa-
tion in society, to influence those of the multitude, and whose
errors may eventually be instrumental in impairing the morals
and the happiness of generations yet unborn.*
2. A second instance in which the exercise of Reason may

be requisite for an enlightened discharge of our duty, occurs in

tliose cases where there appears to be an interference between

different <hiti<s, and where, of course, it seems to be necessary

t«> sacrifice one duty to another.
* [Sec abovo, Elements, fcc, Vol, I. p. 67, Mr/.]
 ;

CHAP. V.— GENERAL RESULT ; ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. (§ 4.) 363

In the course of the foregoing speculations I have frequently

taken notice of the coincidence of all our virtuous principles of
action, in pointing out to us thesame line of conduct, and of
the systematical consistency and harmony which they have a
tendency to produce in the moral character. Notwithstanding,
however, this general and indisputable fact, it must be owned
that cases sometimes occur in which they seem at first view to
interfere with each other, and in which, of consequence, the
exact path of duty is not altogether so obvious as it commonly
is. Thus, every manincumbent on him to have a
feels it

constant regard to the ivelfare of society, and also to his own

happiness. On the ivhole, these two interests will be found, by
the most superficial inquirer, to be inseparably connected ; but,
at the same time, it cannot be denied that cases may be fancied
in which it seems necessary to make a sacrifice of the one to
the other.
In such cases when the public happiness is very great, and
the private comparatively inconsiderable, there is no room for
hesitation ; but the former may be easily conceived to be
diminished, and the latter to be increased to such an amount
as to render the exact propriety of conduct very doubtful
more especially when it is considered, that, ceteris parilms, sl

certain degree of preference to ourselves is not only justifiable

but morally right. In like manner the attachments of nature
or of friendship, or the obligations of gratitude, of veracity, or
of justice, may interfere with private or public good; and it

may not be easy to say, whether all of these obligations may

not sometimes be superseded by paramount considerations of
utility. At least these are points on which moralists have
been arguing for some thousands of years, without having yet
come to a determination in which all parties are agreed. It is
much in the same manner that the different foundations of
property may give rise to different claims; and it may be
exceedingly difficult to determine, among a variety of titles,

which of them is entitled to a preference over the others.

The consideration of these nice and puzzling questions in
the science of Ethics has given rise in modern times to a par-

.
 ;

364 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

ticulardepartment of it, distinguished by the title of Casuistry;

the great object of which is to lay down general rules or canons
for directing us how to act, wherever there is any room for
doubt or hesitation and which (in the opinion of Mr. Smith)
;

has attracted more notice than it would otherwise have done,

in consequence of the practice of auricular confession in Roman
Catholic countries.
The absurdity of Casuistry is now so universally admitted,
that it is unnecessary to enlarge upon it. The combinations
of circumstances into which individuals may be thrown by the
accidents of life may be so infinitely diversified, that it is

impossible to comprehend them all in any general description

and, therefore, all that the moralist can reasonably attempt is

to inculcate those good principles, and to recommend those

good dispositions, which in their general tendency are likely
to insure a virtuous conduct ; leaving to individuals the task
of exercising their own judgments on those incalculable con-
which they may be called on to act.
tingencies in
3. When the ends at which our duty prompts us to aim

are to be accomplished by means which require choice and

deliberation.
Even if the whole of virtue consisted in following steadily one
principle of action, still reason would be necessary to direct us
to the means. The truth is, nature only recommends certain
ends, leaving to ourselves the selection of the most efficient

means by which these ends may be obtained. Thus all

moralists, whatever may be their particular system, agree in

this, that it is one of the chief branches of our duty to promote
to the utmost of our power the happiness of that society of
which we are members; but the most ardent zeal for the
attainment of this object can be of no avail, unless reason be
employed both in ascertaining what are the real constituents
of social and political happiness, and by what means this
happiness may be most effectually advanced and secured.
It is owing to the last of these considerations that the study
of happiness, both private and public, becomes an important
part of the science of Ethics. Indeed, without this study, the
 ;

CHAP. V. — GENERAL RESULT ; ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. (§ 4.) 365

best dispositions of the heart, whether relating to ourselves or

to others, may be in a great measure useless.
The subject of happiness, so far as relates to the individual,
has been already considered. The great extent and difficulty
of those inquiries which have for their object to ascertain what
constitutes the happiness of a community, and by what means
it may be most effectually promoted, make it necessary to
separate them from the other questions of Ethics, and to form
them into a distinct branch of the science.
It is not, however, in this respect alone that Politics is con-
nected with the other branches of Moral Philosophy. The pro-
visions which nature has made for the intellectual and moral
progress of the species, all suppose the existence of the political
union and the particular form which this union happens in
;

the case of any community to assume, determines many of the

most important circumstances in the character of the people,
and many of those opinions and habits which affect the happi-
ness of private life.

These observations which represent Politics as a branch of

Moral Philosophy, have been sanctioned by the opinions of all
those authors, both in ancient and modern times, by whom
either the, one or the other has been cultivated with much
success. Among the former it is sufficient to mention the
names of Plato and Aristotle, both of whom, but more espe-
cially the latter, have left us works on the general principles of
policyand government, which may be read with the highest
advantage at the present day. As to Socrates, his studies seem
to have been chiefly directed to inculcate the duties of private
life ; and yet in the beautiful enumeration which Xenophon
has given of his favourite pursuits, the science of Politics is

expressly mentioned as an important branch of the philosophy

human nature. u As and what related to
of for himself, 7nan,
man, were the only subjects on which he chose to employ him-
self. To this purpose all his inquiries and conversations turned
on what was pious, what impious what honourable, what ;

base; what just, what unjust; what wisdom, what folly what ;

courage, what cowardice what a state or political community

;
366 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL POWERS. — B. IV. DUTIES TO MEN.

what the character of a statesman or a politician; what a'govern-

ment of men, what the character of one equal to such a govern-
ment. It was on these and other matters of the same kind
that he used to discourse, in which subjects those who were
knowing he used to esteem men of honour and goodness, and
those who were ignorant to be no better than the basest of
1
slaves."

In modern times the intimate relation between Ethics and

Politics, and the easy transition by which the one perpetually

leads the thoughts to the other, may be distinctly traced in the

speculations of Grotius, of Locke, of Fenelon, of Montesquieu,
of Turgot, of Smith, and (with a very few exceptions) of all
that class of writers in France who were distinguished by the
name of Economists.mention these examples chiefly to
I
show that it is not in consequence of any capricious and arbi-
trary arrangement that these two branches of science are re-
ferred tosame academical department in some of our
the
modern universities and to illustrate, by an appeal to literary
;

history, the imperfection of those systems of politics which are

not founded on the previous study of the nature and duties of
man.
1
Mrs. [Miss] Fielding's Translation of Xcnophon's Memorabilia. [In the
original, Book I. chap. i. sect. 16.]
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS

TO

BOOKS THIRD AND FOURTH.

 NOTES AND ILLUSTKATIONS.

Note A, (Book HI. p. 30.) — Various Hypotheses in explanation of the Activity

apparent in the Universe.

The object of this Note is to give a slight view of some of the most noted Hypo-
theses which have been formed to account for the Active Powers exhibited in the
Universe.
I. —The first is that of Materialism, according to which the phenomena of
nature are the result of certain active powers essentially inherent in Matter.
Of this doctrine there are very early traces in the history of metaphysical
science. The oldest philosophers in Phoenicia and Greece, of whom we have any
account, appear to have founded their physical systems on three suppositions.
1st, That of a Vacuum; 2d, That of Atoms; and, 3d, That of the Gravity of
Atoms. This doctrine of Atoms (according to Posidonius the Stoic, as cited by

Strabo and Sextus Empiricus) was more ancient than the times of the Trojan
war, having been taught by Moschus, a Phoenician. There is reason to believe
1
that the more ancient Atomists taught that there were living principles also,
which existed before the union of the systems of these elementary corpuscles, and
continued to exist after their dissolution ; and that they saw the necessity of
admitting Active as well as Passive principles, Life as well as Mechanism in the
system of the universe. In the progress, however, of philosophical speculation
among the Greeks this doctrine came to be simplified, and the hypotheses of
Active Incorporeal substances to be rejected. Democritus, in particular, and
afterwards Epicurus, attempted to account for the phenomena of nature from
Matter and Motion only, and considered Gravity as an essential property of Atoms,
by which they are perpetually in motion, or making an effort to move, and have
done so from eternity.
In modern times this doctrine has appeared in various forms. Even some
authors, whom it would be most uncandid and unjust to call Materialists, have
occasionally expressed themselves in a manner too favourable to it. " Matter, as

1 Maclaurin'8 Account of Sir Isaac Nticton's 26, et sea. See also Cud worth's Intellectual
Philosophical Discoveries. Second Edition, p. System, Book I. chap. L

VOL. VII. 2 A
370 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS TO BOOK THIRD.

far as we can discover," says Lord^Kames, "

is certainly not endued with thought

or voluntary motion, endued with a power of motion in certain

and yet that it is

circumstances appears to me an extreme clear point. Dropping a stone from a

high tower, it falls to the ground without any external impulse as far as we can
observe. Here is an effect produced which every one who has not studied philo-
sophy will attribute to a power in the stone itself. One would not hesitate to draw
this conclusion should the stone move upwards ; and yet, setting aside habit and
custom, it move downwards as upwards
must be evident that a stone can as little

without a vis motrix. And that this is a just as well as a natural way of thinking
will appear by analogy. When a man is in motion we readily ascribe the effect
produced to a power which he possesses to move his limbs. Why then do philo-
sophers deny to the stone in the act of falling the power of beginning motion, a
power which they so readily ascribe to man ? If it be objected that man is a
being endued with a power of moving himself, and of moving other things, the
plain answer is, that these are facts which we learn no other way than by ex-
perience, and we have the same experience for a voucher, that a stone set free in
move itself. And if it be farther urged that man is a thinking being,
the air will
the answer will readily occur, that a power of beginning visible motion is no more
connected with a power of thinking than it is with any other property of matter or
spirit. Nay, Mr. Locke holds that matter maybe endowed with a power of think-
ing, and supposing this power superadded to the other properties of matter, it

cannot be maintained that matter would be rendered thereby more or less capable
1
of beginning or continuing visible motion."
In considering the history of philosophical opinions, there is nothing so amusing
and instructive as to examine the natural prejudices from which they have taken
their rise, and to account for their diversity by the different points of view from
which the same object has been surveyed by different observers. By attending to
the state of science when a particular philosopher lived, we are sometimes able to
catcli the precise point from which his views were taken, and to perceive the
object under the same aspect which it presented to him. In this manner we
obtain a thread to guide us through the mazes of an apparent labyrinth we :

systematize a seeming chaos of incoherent notions, and render the history of error
and absurdity a source of important information with respect to the natural
progress of the human mind.
I have elsewhere [vol. i. p. 200, se<[.] mentioned some circumstances which
render it probable that children conceive all objects animated, and that they
ascribe the changes they sec take place in them to an internal power similar to

what they experience in themselves. The case is the same with savages, who
conceive the sea, the earth, the sun, moon, and stars, rivers, fountains, and groves,
to be active and animated beings. It is remarked by Raynal. that, " wherever
lavages see motion which they cannot account for, there they suppose a soul; and
that when any piece of mechanism (such as a watch) is presented to them, for the
first time, in a moving state, tiny are apt to suppose it to be an animal." Such
then seems to be the natural and most obvious conclusions of the mind unen-
lightened by experience and reflection.

1
Fsi.-vj on th,- Liu:< o/ Motim, published in the Fss.ii/s rhijsical and Littrary of tbe Phfto-
iot> of Rdlatraitfta - [8m ni-o KtmmenU fcc Vol . U p. 158. teg]
 o

NOTE A. (THEORIES OX THE ACTIVITY OF NATURE.) 371

The first efforts of philosophical inquiry could not fail to expose the absurdi.
these ideas ; and in proportion as physical causes came
be discovered, and the to
mutual connexions and dependencies of phenomena to be ascertained, n
would be gradually stripped of life and hrtelKg would arise, that .

connexions exist where we are unable to trace them, and that the universe is
nothing but a vast machine. Even the active which put the machine iu
motion would, in the p: speculative refinement, be considered as prop-:
and on the same footing with its extension and
essential to matter, figure. Thus
Mind, which was at first supposed to animate everything ess of
time, to be banished from the universe and even the phenomena
of thought and
;

volition, of which we are conscious, to be ascribed to a certain combination of

I and M.

The language
of the Newtonian philosophy, with to some of the qualities

of Matter, somewhat apt to encourage in superficial thinkers prejudices which

is

lead to Materialism. Thus the words attraction and gravitation seem to express
active powers essential to, and inherent in matter, and they have accordingly been
severely censured by some of Sir Isaac's adversaries as involving that absurd and
dangerous supposition. But whatever c: be mad-: language, I •

it must not be forgotten titti ^ac himself employed these words merely to
express a fact, and that he was at pains to guard his readers against that very
misapprehension of his meaning which has been so often imputed to his philosophy,
es autem attraction^, irripuUu*. itkjmq Arum, in-
differenter et pro se mutao promiscue asurpo has vires nor. sed math :

*ntum considerando. Unde caveat lector, ne per hujusmodi voces cogitet me

speciem vel moduin actionis causamve aut rationem physicam alicubi definire, vel
centris (quae sunt puncta mathematica re et pbysice tribuere ; si forte
r
centra trahere, aut vires centrorum esse, dixero. '

The scheme of Materialism has been so accurately examined, and so fully

refuted in a l ^rticularly i.\ Dr. Clarke's book
d. that a review of the controversy to
which it has given rise would be superfluous and tedious, even if I had it in

my power to enter upon the discussion without encroaching on more intere

speculati I i following very slight hints will, I hope, be sufficient for my
:
t -
:

ommencement of motion in a body fan: : ncy

of mind, is a proposition involved in the only notions of body and mind that we are
capable of forming : or rather, it is a proposition, the truth of which is known to
us in the very same manner in which we know that body and mind exist. As
sensation implies a sentient being, and thought a thinking being, so a commc
ment of motion implies a moving power, or, in other words, an agtrd. Our
conclusions in these different instances are not the result of experience, but are
perceptions of the understanding (or, in other words, judgments) necessarily
accompanying our apprehension of the facts. satisfied of this, it is In order to be
only necessary to consider, that wherever experience informs us of a connexion
between two things, both of them must have been distinct and separate obje
our knowledge, so that have been compared I : con-
1 Definition riii. at the beginning of Newxi'f Principia.
 ;

372 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS TO BOOK THIRD.

nexion remarked. To suppose, therefore, that it is from experience we learn that

sensation, thought, and a power of beginning motion are attributes of mind, is to

take for granted that we have some knowledge of mind distinct from what we have
of its attributes ; whereas, in point of fact, (as I had formerly occasion to show,)

Mind is not a direct object of our knowledge, and our only notion of it is a relative
notion suggested by its operations of which we are conscious. Mind, we say, is

that which feels, which thinks, which has the power of beginning motion ; and
therefore, the proposition, that sensation, thought, and the power of beginning
motion, are attributes of mind, is not a fact resting on experience, but a truth
involved in the only notion ofmind we possess.
It has indeed been asserted by some philosophers, that it is from experience
alone we know that a power of beginning motion is an attribute of mind and, of ;

consequence, that the same power may belong to matter for anything we can prove
to the contrary. Thus, Lord Kames, in a passage already quoted from him,
[p. 370,] has observed that
" a power of beginning visible motion is no more con-

nected with a power of thinking than it is with any other property of matter or
spirit." And hence he concludes, that " it is experience alone, and not any con-
sideration a priori, that can determine whether the power of beginning motion
belongs either to matter or to mind. That mind has the power of beginning
motion we know from our own consciousness And have we not the very same :

evidence of our experience when we see a stone fall downwards, that a power of
beginning motion belongs to the stone ?"

To the greater part of this reasoning a sufficient answer may be collected from
what has been already advanced but there is one remark made by Lord Kames
;

which requires a little farther consideration " that a power of beginning visible :

motion is no more connected wnth a power of thinking than it is with any other
property of matter or spirit." In favour of this observation it must, I think, be
granted, that the power of thinking does not imply a power of beginning motion
for we can easily conceive beings possessed of the former without any share of the
latter. But the converse of the proposition is not equally clear, that a power of
beginning motion does not imply a power of thinking. On the contrary, it seems
evident that it does imply it, for without thought how could the direction or the
velocity of the motion be determined? A commencement of motion, therefore, it

would appear, not only implies an agent, but an agent possessed of thepou\r oj

thinking.
This conclusion will be strongly confirmed by attending to the motions arising
from gravity ; motions which are regulated both in their direction and quantity
by circumstances altogether external to the moving body. A stone, for example,

dropped in the air falls downwards in the direction of a line tending nearly to the
earth's centre, and the result is the same, in whatever quarter of the globe the
experiment il made ;
so that the direction of the stone's motion varies in an infinite
Dumber of ways, eooording to external circumstances. If the stone be carried to
different heights above the earth's surface, the accelerating force of its gravity to
lip earth varies with its distance to the earth's centre, according to a general rule ;

—decreasing, viz., in the same proportion in which the square of the distaucc
increases. The gravity, besides, of one body t<> another increases both in propor-
tion t«> its own quantity of matter ami to the <|iiantity of matter in the body to
 NOTE A. (THEORIES ON THE ACTIVITY OF NATURE.) 373

which it gravitates. How is it possible to suppose that all this arises from an in-

herent and essential activity in matter, unless we likewise suppose that every body
is not only essentially conscious of the quantity of matter it contains, but is essen-
tially capable of perceiving the quantities of matter in other bodies, together with
their situations and distances ? It was not, therefore, without reason that Hobbes,
after having ascribed to matter a power of self-motion, supposed that it was also
endued with an obscure sense and perception ; and that it differed only from ani-
mated beings in wanting the faculty of memory and organs of sense and motion as
perfect as theirs. The doctrine, indeed, is too absurd to require a serious exami-
nation ; but it is evidently a necessary consequence of the scheme of Materialism,
and it has accordingly been adopted by various other writers, who had a leaning,
either avowed or secret, to the same principles.
II. — It has been supposed that the phenomena of nature result from certain
Active Powers communicated to Matter at its first formation.

Thus Mr. Derham says :

—" It hath pleased the Author of all Things to inspirit
the particles of matter with a certain active power called gravity." And in another
passage :
— " This attractive or gravitating power I take to be congenial to matter,
and imprinted on all the matter of the universe by the Creator's Fiat at the
creation." *
Of this doctrine of Derham's it seems to be a sufficient refutation to observe,

that if matter be at all inactive, it must be essentially inactive, and cannot possi-
bly be rendered otherwise any more than it could continue to be matter after its
extension aud figure were destroyed.
It is indeed possible to conceive, as some have actually done, a mind connected
—
with every particle of matter, a supposition which, however unsupported by
proof, involves no absurdity nor contradiction. But this is not Derham's supposi-
tion for he
; plainly understood that the active power of gravity was communicated

to the matter itself. His supposition, therefore, is perfectly analogous to Locke's

doctrine, about the possibility of superadding to the other qualities of matter a

power of thinking. Indeed Derham's hypothesis needs that of Locke to make it

complete ; for how could two bodies adjust their gravitating forces towards each
other, without a consciousness of their mutual distance ?

III. —
Somewhat akin to this supposition is that which is implied in the language
of those philosophers who ascribe the phenomena of nature to certain General
Laws established by the Deity.
With respect to this language, I have elsewhere had o^asion to observe,
that it is entirely metaphorical, and that although it may be convenient from
its conciseness, it suggests to the fancy an analogy which is extremely apt to
mislead.
As the order of society results from the general rules prescribed by the legislator,
so the order of the universe is conceived to result from certain Laws established

by the Deity. Thus it is customary to say, that the fall of heavy bodies towards
the earth's surface, the ebbing and flowing of the sea, the motions of the planets in
their orbits, are consequences of the law of Gravitation. In one sense this is
abundantly accurate, but it must not be too literally understood. In those political

associations from which the metaphor is borrowed, the laws are addressed to
* [Hylozoism would only ambiguously denominate this theory.]
 —

374 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS TO BOOK THIRD.

rational and voluntary agents, who are able to comprehend their meaning, and re-
gulate their conduct accordingly. But in the phenomena exhibited by the material
world, the order we see not only implies intelligence in its first conception, but
power to account for its continued existence ; or, in other words, it is the same
being who enacts and executes the law. If the word law, therefore, be in such
instances literally understood, it must mean a uniform mode of acting prescribed
to the Deity by himself; and it has accordingly been explained in this sense by
the best writers on natural religion, particularly by Dr. Clarke in a passage form-
erly quoted, [supra, p. 29.]
IV. —A fourth supposition is that of Dr. Cudworth, who ascribes the phenomena
of the material world to what he calls a Plastic or formative Nature, or (according

to his own definition of it) to "a vital and spiritual but unintelligent and necessary
agent, created by the Deity for the execution of his purposes."* The same observa-
tions that were made upon the second of the foregoing hypotheses are applicable to

this doctrine, which, notwithstanding the high merits of its author, is perhaps the
most unphilosophical of any mentioned in this enumeration. It differs, indeed,
from that to which I have assigned the second place in my arrangement only in
this, that it presents the same idea under a form somewhat more mysterious,
attempting to conceal its native absurdity under a veil of scholastic words more
likely to impose on an unlearned ear.

V. — Dissatisfied with all these doctrines, a late author of genius and learning
has made an attempt to revive the ancient theory of mind ; the only effectual bul-
wark, according to him, against the Materialism and Atheism of modern times.
The general principle of this theory is, that every Motion is not only Produced but
Continued by Mind. Mind, we are told, is that which moves Body, is that which
is Every particle of matter, therefore, Lord Monboddo supposes to be
moved.
animated by different minds. Thus there is one mind which he calls the elemental
mind, which is the source of the cohesion of bodies. There is another mind, which
isthe cause of their gravitation and so on in other instances. Even in the case of
;

motion produced by impulse, he holds that the impulse is only the occasion of the
motion. The motion is continued in consequence of the agency of mind excited
by the impulse ; for a continued motion implies a continued activity. The motions
of the planets round the sun are not the result of a constant tangential and a con-
stant centripetal tendency, (according to the ideas of Newton and his followers,)
but are carried on by minds which animate the planets in a way analogous to that
in which the motions of animals are produced. The only difference is this, that he
supposes the minds which animate the planets to be void of intelligence, and, as he
expresses it, to be merely principles of motion.
Before I proceed to make any observations on this doctrine, it may be amusing

to turn our attention to the different fancies which have been entertained on the
Bubject by those philosophers who have had a leaning to similar theories. A short
account of sonic of them (sufficiently accurate for our present purpose) is contained
in the following passage o\' Maupcrtuis.
ptioni en lirent des diem," the author is speaking of the 6tars, " et

parmi Its idem lew attribuerent des ames divines. Anaxagoras fut

• [Intellectual Svstnn, Jtc.k I (hap iii Dif/rmtim appended to It, Concerning the Plcutic Life
t B,]
 NOTE A. (THEORIES ON THE ACTIVITY OF NATURE.) 375

condamne comme un impie pour avoir me l'ame du soleil. Cleanthe et Platon

furent sur cela plus orthodoxes. Philon donne aux astres, non seulement dea
ames, mais des ames tres pures. Origenes etoit dans la meme opinion il a cru :

que les ames de ces corps ne leur avoient pas toujours appartenu, et qu'elles vien-
droient un jour a en etre separees.
" Avicenne a donne aux astres une ame intellectuelle et sensitive. Simplicius
les croit douees de la vue, de l'ouie, et du tact. Tycho et Kepler admettent dea
ames dans les etoiles et dans les planetes. Baranzanus, religieux Barnabite, astro-
nome et theologien, leur attribue une certaine ame moyenne entre l'intellectuelle et
la brute. A la verite, St. Thomas, qui dans differens endroits de ses ouvrages,
leur avoit accorde assez liberalement des ames intellectuelles, semble dans son
septieme chapitre, Contra Gentcs, s'etre retracte, et ne vouloir plus leur donner que
1
des ames sensitives."
1 shall add to this detail a few detached passages from the classical writers, to
show how very generally these ideas have prevailed.
" Ea quoque (sidera) rectissime," says Balbus the Stoic in Cicero, "et animan-

tia esse, et sentire atque intelligere dicantur." De Nat. Deor. Lib. II. c. xv.
" Probabile est, praestantem intelligentiam in sideribus esse." — Ibid. xvi.

Virgil :

" Immissaeque ferae sylvis, et sidera ccelo."— Georg. II. 342.

Ovid :—
" Xeu regio foret ulla suis anirnantibus orba,
Astra tenent cceleste solum formaeque Deorum ;

Terra feras cepit." Metam. I. 75.

Statius represents Aurora as driving the stars with a whip.

" Tempus erat, junctos cum jam soror ignea Phcebi

Sentit equos, penitusque cavam sub luce parata
Oceani mugire domum : seseque vagantem
Colligit; et moto leviter fugat astra flagello."— Theb. viii. 274. 2

Maupertuis himself, in his Systeme de la Nature, 3 supposes every elementary

particle of matter to be endued not only with a power of motion but with intelli-
gence,—" Quelque principe dmtelligence, semblable a ce que nous appelons desir,
aversion, memoire."— This performance of
Maupertuis was published first in

Latin, under the title of a " Thesis defended at Erlangen in Germany, by Dr.

Baumann." It excited a good deal of attention and opposition at Paris, and

among its other opposers was the celebrated M. Diderot. Maupertuis replied to
his objections in form and it is from this answer alone that I know anything of
;

Diderot's system. From Maupertuis's account it appears that Diderot objected to

the Systeme de la Nature as favouring materialism, and

proposed to substitute in

i (Euvres de Maupertuis, Vol II. p. 209. few years after with the same title, under the
uarae of Mirahaud, but now universally under-
2 See Spence's Polyrrulis, p. 179.
stood tQ have been the work of Baron d Holbach.
> It may be necessary to caution some of my See Second Part of the First Dissertation pre-
readers against confounding the Systeme de la fix,d to the Supplement to the Encydopadia
Nature of Maupertuis, with a book published a Brilannica. p 132.
sore a- (thhhb os ram activist or xaicu.) 377

ri h
378 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS TO BOOK THIRD.

there is a power of self-motion in every particle of matter, and the only difference
is, that the one system supposes the power to belong to the particle itself, the

other supposes that it belongs to a distinct principle, with which it is inseparably

united.
As I do not know that this theory of mind has gained many proselytes in modern
times, I shall not enter into a more particular examination of it, but shall content
myself with remarking the illustration it affords, of the influence of that principle

of our nature which has led men in all ages to ascribe the changes that take
place in the state of the universe to the operation of powers superior to mere
matter.
VI. —The last supposition we shall take notice of upon this subject is that of the

philosophers who conceive that the universe is a Machine formed and put in motion
by the Deity ; and that the multiplicity of effects that take place may perhaps have
all proceeded from one single act of his power. In this view of the mechanism of
the universe, Descartes and Leibnitz agreed, notwithstanding the wide diversity
of their systems in other respects.
Of these two philosophers, the former not only affirmed in general terms that
the universe is a great machine, of which all the different parts are mechanically
connected, but attempted to explain in particular in what manner it might have
assumed its present form, and may for ever be preserved by mechanical principles.
The whole of space he supposed to be replenished with an ether or dense fluid,
and all the phenomena we see to be the effects of impulsion. Thus he accounts
for the gravity of terrestrial bodies from the centrifugal force of the ether revolving
round the earth, which he imagined must impel bodies downwards, that have not
so great a centrifugal force, much in the same manner as a fluid impels a body
upwards that is immersed in it, and has a less specific gravity than it. He pre-
tended to explain the phenomena of the magnet, and to account for everything in
nature from the same principles.
The great argument which Descartes alleged for his system was, that the same
quantity of motion is always preserved in the universe, and passes from one portion
of matter to another without undergoing any change in the whole ; and this ho
thought was sufficiently proved by the constancy and immutability of the Divine
Nature. But with those who attend to facts this metaphysical reasoning will have
little weight: And fortunately the facts which disprove it are 6uch as are familiar
to every person acquainted with the first elements of physics. In the composition
of motion, absolute motion, it is manifest, is always diminished, as in the resolution
of motion it is increased. Absolute motion, too, is diminished, in many cases, in
the collisions of bodies that have an imperfect elasticity, and in some cases it is

increased in the collisions of clastic bodies. To obviate these objections, Leibnitz

(who, as I already said, agreed with Descartes in considering the universe as a
machine) was led to distinguish between the quantity of motion of bodies and the
force of bodies. The former he owns is perpetually varying; but the latter, he
maintains, remains invariably the same. This new modification, however, of the
principle does not render it the more consistent with the phenomena , even al-

though, with Leibnitz, we should measure the force of bodies (not by their simple
velocities, but) ly the squares of their velocities. If all bodies indeed were per-
fectly elastic, the principle would DOS8e8fl some plausibility; but it is well known
 —

NOTE B. (DR. PARR ON THE BOOK DE MUNDO.) 379

that no such body has hitherto been discovered. When any two bodies meet with
equal motions they rebound with less motions, and force is lost in the collision. If
the bodies are soft, the force of both is destroyed. It was to reconcile these facta
with his general principle that Leibnitz had recourse to his hypothesis of a per-
fectly elastic fluid, which, according to him, in such cases as I now mentioned,
receives and retains the forces of the impinging bodies. But, not to urge that this
is a mere hypothesis, invented to answer a particular purpose, how shall the perfect
elasticity of the supposed fluid be explained on the known principles of mechanism?
And till this is done the Leibnitian theory of the mechanism of the universe must
be allowed to be incomplete.
which apply particularly to the mechanical
Beside, however, these objections,
explanations of the universe given by Descartes and Leibnitz, there is one which
seems to be conclusive, not only against them, but against all other attempts of the
same kind that can be made. This objection is founded on the vague and indis-
tinct idea of mechanism on which all such attempts proceed. This word properly
expresses a combination of natural powers to produce a certain effect. When such
a combination is successful, a machine once set a going will sometimes continue
to perform its office for a considerable time without requiring the interposition of
the artist. And hence we are led to conclude that the case may perhaps be similar
with respect to the universe when once put into motion by the Deity. But the
falseness of the analogy appears from this, that the moving force in every machine
is some natural power, such as gravity or elasticity; and, therefore, the very idea
of mechanism presupposes the existence of those active powers of which it is the
professed object of a mechanical theory of the universe to give an explanation.

Note B, (Book III. p. 34.) Dr. Parr on the Authorship of the Treatise
DE MUNDO.
The following note (which was kindly transmitted to me by Sir James
Mackintosh) contains the opinion of Dr. Parr upon the much controverted point,
whether Aristotle was really the author of the Treatise De Mundo, commonly
printed as part of his works. It was, alas ! the last communication I had with
that truly learned and excellent person.

" I told Sir James Mackintosh and Mr. Dugald Stewart that the book De
Mundo was not written by Aristotle ; and to such illustrious men I ought to state

my reasons for an opinion so confidently expressed. In my Aristotle, I have

marked other works which I hold to be spurious. I stated before, and I now state

again, as the ground of my opinion, the total want of resemblance to the style of
Aristotle. My sagacious friends will promptly assent when I tell them, that in the
third chapter of the Liber De Mundo, the writer mentions the islands of Great

Britain, quite unknown to the Greeks in Aristotle's time.

"''Ev tm TlKtctvco vtjff.t piyurru'i ti rvyxttvovtrt* ovtrtci SJo, BgirccvtKai Xiyeftiveu ,

"AX/Jiav koc) 'lipvfi, tuv T^enrro^nfjiiiiuv fti'i^ov;, x.t.X.'

" I suppose Mr. Stewart and Sir James to have access to Fabricii Bibliotheca

Grceca by Harles. Now, in Vol. III. pp. 232, 233, there is much learned matter
 — — ——

380 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS TO BOOK THIRD.

upon this work. The title iswrong ; for it should be, as we learn from Stobaeus, a
Letter n^i rov Uavrii. Towards the close of the addition by Harles and his friends
we have these words :

" '
Magister Goerenz, in Disputatione Libri Uifi Koo-ftou, qui inter Arido-De
telis scripta reperitur, auctore, Wittebergae, m. Aprili 1792, illam sententiam, quae
Aristotelem auctorem respuit, probabilioreni animadvertens, primum examinat dis-

Bentientium rationes, turn argumenta alia, ab aliis omissa, a Kappio tamen partim
adlata et exposita, cogit, et contra Petitum ac Battesium tela potissimum dirigit.
Denique suspicatur, auctorem Aristotelis nomen libro suo quaestus causa supposu-
isse, qui eum regi Ptolemaeo Philadelpho pro Aristotelis libro venderet. Quidquid
est, satis evictum esse puto a Kappio et Goerenzio, superiorum W. DD. vestigia
prementibus, Aristotelem non fuisse libelli parentem.'
" You will think that Harles thinks as I do. In p. 347, you will find among the
editions of parts of Aristotle, some account of this book De Mundo. Vulcanius —
says, the arguments of those who deny the book to be Aristotle's are plumbea.
1
Vulcanius mire laudat,' the version of Apuleius.
"Now, hear what is said, p. 232, on this work of Apuleius, and is said well.
"
' Quum Apuleius libri sui De Mundo initio non dicat, se versionem libri Graeci
scribere, sed se satis clare conditorem illius libri profiteatur, hinc credo, Apuleium
verum esse illius libri auctorem ; Graecurn vero textum esse versionem.' Heu-
mannus.
" I agree with Heumannus ; for the matter and the manner suits well the known
age of Apuleius.
" Let me advert to another subject Mr. Stewart has written wisely and virtu-

ously upon Atheism, direct or indirect. I agree with him about Spinoza, and I
almost agree with him about Hobbes. But 1 do earnestly entreat Sir James and
Mr. Stewart to bestow great attention to what is said pp. 377, 378, of Vol. III. of
Fabricius.* The observations and cautions of Harles should be attended to. I am
sure that Sir James and Mr. Stewart will thank me for pointing out these two
pages " S. Parr.
" Dec. 10, 1821."

Note C, (Book III. p. 113.) — On tJie Proportion of the Sexes «-s born.

That in this part of the world the sexes everywhere approach to equality has
been long observed. Major Graunt, (who assisted Sir "William Petty in his
inquiries relative to Political Arithmetic,) from an examination both of tho
London and country Bills, states 14 males to 13 females; from whence he infers
that " tho Christian religion, prohibiting polygamy, is more agreeable to the law
of nature than Maliouxtanism and others that allow of it."
" This proportion of 11 to 13," says Dr. Perham, " I imagine is nearly just.
In the 100 years of my own parish register, although tho burials of males and
females wore nearly equal, (being 636 males, and 623 females in all that tinio.^ yet

* [These page* contain, in various appll- warrant. The divino Prescient e of Coi.tin
cAtioim. caution* by Fahri.-ius and Harlot, nents, or of free actions, and Infinity, it is, of
against the rrmli imputation of Atheism. Moro course, taken for granted, are by us iucouceiv-
ialitm is held not to bo a tuflkiont nblc. — Mrf.]
 ;

NOTE C. (ON THE PROPORTION OF THE SEXES.) 381

there were baptized 709 males, aud but 675 females ; which numbers are in the
proportion of 137 to 13." 1

Of late years this subject has been examined with far greater accuracy than
had been attempted before by Mr. Suessmilch in Germany, by Mr. Wargentin in
;

Sweden, and by Dr. Price in England. From their combined observations it

seems to be established beyond a doubt, First, that the number of males and of
females born invariably approach to equality. Secondly, that the excess is in
favour of the males. Thirdly, that this excess is partly counterbalanced by their
greater mortality.
With respect to other parts of the globe, our information is much less correct

and here accordingly speculative men have found themselves more at liberty to
indulge their ingenuity and fancy. " In Japan," says Montesquieu, upon the
authority of Kaempfer, " there are born rather more girls than boys ; and at Bantam
the former exceed the latter in the proportion of ten to one." Hence he seems
disposed to infer, that the law which permits polygamy is physically conformable
to the inhabitants of such countries ; a conclusion which some other authors have
apprehended to be farther confirmed by the prematurity and rapid decay of female
beauty in some regions of the East.
The same argument has been much and very confidently insisted on by Mr.
Bruce in his Travels to Abyssinia, where he attempts to confirm it by some facts
which fell under his own personal knowledge. To his very strong statements may
be opposed the testimony of other travellers not less entitled to credit. The asser-
tion of Montesquieu, that at Bantam the number of females exceeds that of males
in the proportion of ten to one, is directly contradicted by Mr. Marsden in his
very able and interesting account of Sumatra, where he resided a considerable
number of years. " I can take upon me to assert," says he, " that the proportion

of the sexes throughout Sumatra does not differ sensibly from that ascertained in

Europe ; nor could I ever learn from the inliabitants of the many eastern islands
whom J have conversed with, that they had remarked any disproportion in this
respect."
The following passage from a most authentic and judicious traveller is still

more full and satisfactory. The author I quote is M. Niebuhr, whose Travels
through Arabia and other countries in the East have acquired such great and
deserved reputation.
"
Much has been said in Europe concerning the origin of the practice of poly-
gamy, so generally prevalent through the East. Supposing that a plurality of
wives is not barely allowed by law, but takes place in fact, some of our philoso-
phers have imagined that in hot countries more women than men are born ; but I

have already stated that somo nations avail not themselves of the- permission
given by the Musselman law for one to marry several wives. It would bo unfair
to judge of the manners of a whole- people by the fastidious luxury of the great.
It is vanity that peoples seraglios, and that chiefly with slaves, most of whom aro
only slaves to a few favourite women. The number of female servants in Europe,
who arc in the same manner condemned in a great measure to celibacy, is equal or
superior to that of those who arc confined in the harems of the East.

1 Physic o-ThcolOiiy, pp. 175, 170. Sco on thia titled Mi'trologk, p. 485. AU>o, Mohoau, lic-

subjoct a French work of high authority, en clurchci sur la Population.

 —

382 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS TO BOOK THIRD.

" It is European clergymen and physicians settled in the East have

true that
presumed more girls than boys are born there. I obtained some lists
that rather
of Christian baptisms in the East but some of these were filled with inconsist-
;

encies; and in the others the number by which the females born exceeded the
males was indeed very trifling. I have reason, therefore, to conclude, that the
proportion between the male and the female births is the same here as else-
1
where."
I shall conclude this note, by once more recalling the attention of the Teader to
the important fact, that from the latest and most accurate observations made both
in the old and new world, Laplace has thought himself authorized to conclude, that

this balance between the sexes (with a trifling preponderance in favour of the
male) may be regarded as an universal law with regard to the human race. In
forming this conclusion, Laplace appears to have been much struck with the result
of Humboldt's researches in America, where he found that even between the
tropics the same proportion of male births to female obtained as was observed at
Paris. The sanction thus deliberately given by this illustrious mathematician to
the universality of the fact, will, I hope, in the opinion of the great majority of my
readers, add more weight to the argument in favour of design than his reasonings

quoted in the text furnish against it.

In confirmation of Laplace's conclusion with respect to the universality of this

law, I am assured by the best authority, that, from a recent census in our Indian
empire, it appears that the very same proportion between the sexes takes place
there as in Europe.

Note D, (Book III. p. 198.) D'Alembert quoted again.

In a note which the reader will find, in p. 198, I have quoted a very re-

markable passage from D'Alembert's Eloge on M. de Sacy. I am now to quote

another equally striking from the preface prefixed by the same author to his Aca-
demical Eloges. " Celui qui se marie, dit Bacon, donne des Stages a la fortune.

L'homme de lettres qui tient ou qui aspire a l'Academie donne des otages a la

decence. . . . S'il y avoit en une academie a Rome et qu'elle y cut etc floris-

sante et honoree, Horace eut ete flatte d'y etre assis a cote du sage Virgilc son
ami : que lui en cut-il coute pour y parvenir ? d'effacer de ses vers quelques ob-
sccnites qui les deparent ; le poiite n'auroit rien perdu, et le citoyen auroit fait son
devoir. Par la meme raison, Lucrece, jaloux de l'honneur d'appeler Ciceron son
confrere, poemo que les morceaux sublimes ou il est si
n'eut conserve de son
grand peintre, et n'auroit supprimc que ceux ou il donne, en vers prosaiques, des
lecons d' Atheisme, e'est-a-dire ou il fait des efforts, aussi coupables que foibles,
pour otcr un frein a la vie'ehanccte' puissantc, ct une consolation a, la vertu
,,%
malheureuse.
These two quotations from D'Alembert (neither of which I recollect to have
seen referred to in any English publication) present, must be owned, a strong
it

contrast to some passages in his correspondence with Voltaire and the King of
1
1 Heron * Translation, Vol. II. p. 218.
1 The word* printed In Italia In this passage nre distinguished in the «nme w&y In the original.
 *

NOTE D. (d'aLEMBERT QUOTED AGAIN.) 383

Prussia, which have been industriously brought forward in some periodical works
of this country. Which of these inconsistent passages express the author's real
sentiments I shall not presume to decide, but I thought it an act of justice to call

the attention of my readers to both of them. Indeed, in cases of this sort the only
question with the reader ought to be, on what occasions an author spoke the truth,
— not when he expressed his own opinion. " Qui autem requirunt," says Cicero,
with his usual good sense and philosophical liberality, " quid quaque de re ipsi
sentiamus, curiosius id faciunt quam necesse est. Non enim tarn auctores in dis-
putando quam rationis momenta quaerenda sunt. Quin etiam obest plerumque iis,

qui discere volunt, auctoritas eorum, qui se docere profitentur. Desinunt enim
Buum judicium adhibere : id habent ratum, quod ab eo, quem probant judicatum
vident."
1
Be Natura Deorum, Lib. I. cap. v.
_.
 ; ;

INDEX.
Outlines, etc., from the commencement to page 108 of Vol. I.

Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers, from page 109

of Vol. I., to the end of Vol. II.

Accountable; men morally account- Friendship, of Patriotism, of Pity,) in

able for their actions, only in so far general, 12-15, 167-172 the Malevo-
;

as they are morally Free, i. 362, 363. lent, on, in general, 15, 16, 197-206 ;

Action, Active these words are pro-

; these are all engrafted on the prin-
perly applied to the exertion conse- ciple of Resentment, 15, 197, seq.
quent on Volition, i. 3, 4, 121, 122 ;
Benevolent Affections accompanied
Active Powers, in general, 3, seq., 122, with an agreeable feeling, 168, 204,
seq.; the Active Principles compre- seq. ; imply a desire of happiness to
hend, 1°- Appetites, 2°- Desires, 3° -
their objects, 170; though not meri-
Affections, 4° Self-love, 5°- the Moral torious are amiable, 171 Malevolent
;

Faculty, 4, 125 the three first are

; Affections sources of pain, 204, seq.
Instinctive or Implanted Propensities, Agency Free, see Free-Agency.
the two last, Rational and Governing Agreement, Universal or Common, see
Principles of Action, 4, 18, 125; our Consent.
Active distinguished from our Intel- Agriculture, different associations with,
lectual principles, 117, 118. in the minds of the French and of the
Activity of Matter, see Matter. English, ii. 92, 93.
Activity and Repose, pleasures of, ii. Aikin, (Dr. John, Editor of Armstrong's
339-344. Poems,) referred to, ii. 170.
Adams, (Rev. Dr.,) quoted as to the Akenside, (Dr. Mark,) quoted as to the
Obligation of Virtue, i. 321. love of Glory, i. 150 as to the ex-
;

Adaptations of the animal body and in- clusive Beauty and Sublimity of Mind,
stincts to the laws of the material 309 on the act of Brutus killing
;

world, as evincing an Intelligent Caesar, 310, 311 ;— in regard to the

Creator, ii. 63-71 (see Analogies,
;
beneficial influence of Good Temper
0,
&c.,) viz., I of respiration and suc- upon Happiness, ii. 317.
tion, 63 ;
2°- of the retina to light, Albinus, quoted as to Design in the
ib. ; 3°" of size to gravitation, 64. animal body, ii. 55.
Addison, quoted as to our love of Pro- Alcinous, adduced in regard to Plato, i.
perty, i. 9, 158 as to Cunning, 91
; 298.
against the morality of French writers, Alembert, see D'Alembert.
261 as to the Beauty of Virtue, 303
; Algebra, formula of, applied to Morals
—
;

as to the preponderance of Moral by Hutcheson, ii. 230.

Good, ii. 148 as to the absurdity
; Alison, (Rev. Archibald,) referred to
and odiousness of a rigid temper in on Moral Associations, i. 309, 310
a worthless man, 311. — quoted as to the influence of Asso-
;

Affections: on, in general, i. 12, 167-206 ;

ciation on our happiness, ii. 326.
the Benevolent, (to wit, of Kindred, of Alliacus, (Pierre D Ailly,) historically

VOL. VII. 2 li
386 INDEX.

noticed by Cudworth as one of the Apuleius, is he the author of the book

N uninalists who founded Morality on De Mundo f ii. 380.
the positive precept of God, ii. 286. Aquinas, (St. Thomas,) varies in allow-
Alphonso, (X., King of Leon and Castile,) ing the stars an Intellectual soul, ii.
ventured to censure the wisdom dis- 375.
played in the planetary system, ii. Arbuthnot, (Dr.,) quoted as to the
57,58. Calculus of Probabilities, ii. 115.
Ambition, race of, i. 164. Aristippus, quoted in reference to ves-
Analogies, in the structure of animals, tiges of Intelligence and Design, ii.
in that of plants, and even in inor- 48 suggested his Moral theory to
;

ganic nature, as manifesting Intelli- Epicurus, 293.

gence and Design in the Creator, Aristotle, quoted touching Emulation
ii. 71-77, {see Adaptations, &c), viz., and Envy, i. 11, 162 touching Ve- ;

1° among animals exclusively, 71, racity, 87; ii. that where there
274 ;

72 2 between animals and vege-

0-
; is Self-denial, there is not yet Virtue,

tables, 72, 73 3* between the phe-

; 105 as holding that the Virtuous
;

nomena of the material world at large, man is a Self-lover, 215 as to the ;

73, seq.; in particular, illustrated nature of Self-love in opposition to

from astronomy, 74-76. Selfishness, 217, 218; as to the
Anatomist, (an anonymous,) quoted as morality of exacting Interest for the
to Design in the animal body, ii. 55. use of money, 239, 240; as to
Anatomy, Comparative, affords the most Apophthegms, 260; adduced histori-
satisfactory proofs of Design in nature, cally by Cudworth for a certain theory
ii. 55, seq., 100, 106. of Morality, 284 as to the Ridiculous,
;

Anaxagoras, on his religious influence, 334 as to the insolubility of certain

;

ii. 225. sophisms, 394 ; —

Aristotle, or the au-
Ancient philosophers, their great merits thor of the treatise De Mundo, criti-
in regard to Morals, i. 279. cised for certain expressions in regard
Ancillon, (Frederic, the son,) quoted as to the agency of God, ii. 31 was he ;

to the Mahommedan and Greek doc- the writer of the book Iltg) KorpoZ, 34,
trines of Fate, i. 399. (Note B) 379, 380 ; his fourfold dis-
Animism, fifth of the six hypotheses to quoted by
tinction of Causes, 42, 43 ;

account for the Activity of Matter, Cicero in regard to the wonders of

i. 51 ; ii. 374-378. nature, 62 as to the weight of a
;

Anonymous Publications, tendency of, General Consent of mankind, 85 in ;

278, seq.
ii. opposition Plato's doctrine of
to
Antinomian Divines, on their divorce of Virtue being a matter of science, 150;
Morality and Faith, ii. 209, 222. in regard to an Irascible disposition,
Antoninus, (the Emperor Marcus,) quoted 308, 313; on the Definition of Virtue,
for the analogical argument from our 354 as to the distinction of crimes
;

birth iuto this life to our survivance from Ignorance and from Compulsion,
in another, ii. 178 as to man being ; 359 as to the necessity of actions
;

morally a fellow-worker with the being virtuous that they are performed
Deity, 221, 297; in reference to from a right Motive, 360 referred to ;

Candour, 250 as to the Stoical phi-

; as to the connexion of Politics and
losophy, 297. Ethics, 365.
A posteriori, proof of the Existence of Armstrong, on a quotation from, un-
God from, i. 47-60; ii. 12-108 ;—objec- intentionally materialistic, ii. 170;
tion to, from the Calculus of Probabili- quoted in respect of the evil influence
tics considered, ii. 108-119. of imaginary fears on our happiness,
Appetites, on, in general, i. 4, 126-130; 319.
take their rise from the body, and are Assassination, its morality variously
common to us with the brutes are ; viewed in different stages of society,
three in Dumber, (Hunger, Thirst, and i. 243-245.

Sex,) 4, 126; cannot be called selfish, Association of Ideas: attempts to ex-

4, 127; besides the natural, many plain the artificial Appetites and De-
acquired or artificial appetites, 128. .">, sires by this principle, i. 165, 166 ;

.1 priori, proof of the Kxistcncc of God contorted into an argument for Ne-
from, i. •!">, 46; ii- 4-11. cessity, 375 ; — influence of, on our
 ;

INDEX. 387

own happiness, ii. 325-327 ; Associa- Barbeyrac, adduced on the effect of

tions, Classical, see Classical. Occupancy in constituting Property,
Atheism the legitimate result of the
: ii. 262.

Necessitarian scheme, i. 357, 392, Barrington, (Honourable Daines,) ad-

393 every modern atheist has been
; duced in regard to singing birds, ii.
a Necessitarian, 392 does not ne- ; — 70.
cessarily abolish a belief in the Im- Barrow, quoted as saying that Self-love
mortality of the soul, ii. 161, 213 ;
is the original sin, i. 214; but also
Atheism and Superstition, their ex- as holding that a due regard to our
tremes tend to unite, 222, 321 in- ; true welfare is virtuous, 215.
stances of, 321, 322, [to these may be Barthelemy, (the Abbe,) adduced as to
added, Hobbes's terror for appari- the teaching of the Unity of God in cer-
tions] not to be rashly imputed,
; tain mysteries of Polytheism, ii. 222.
380. Baumann, (Dr.,) first published Mau-
Atoms and gravity of Atoms, theory of, pertuis's Theory of Nature, ii. 375.
ii. 369. Baxter, (Andrew,) quoted in regard to
Attributes, (of the Deity,) various classes the theological argument from De-
of, (Natural, Intellectual, Moral,) i. sign, i. 53 ii. 53. ;

60 ii. 77 in particular, the Moral,

; ; Bayle, adduced as to Rochefoucauld, i.
60-67; ii. 120-160; God's Benevo- 258 as to the insolubility of certain
;

lence, 60-65 Moral Attributes sur-

; sophisms, 394 —
as to the history of
;

rendered by Paley, 300 all incom- ; Manichasism, ii. 129, 130.

prehensible, 401 ii. 7, 33, 77. ; Beattie distinguishes Envy from Emu-
:

Augustin, (St.,) adduced as to the Homo lation, i. 162 on the Affection of ;

sum, &c, of Terence, i 325 asserts ;

Kindred, 174 quoted as to the de-
;

both the Free- Agency of man and the sire of Virtue, 215; as to the con-
Free Grace of God, 392, 401, 402 nexion of Virtue and Happiness in
— adduced
;

as to Manichaeism, ii. 130. the minds of children, 226 referred ;

Automatism, last of the six hypotheses to in explanation of the alleged im-

to account for the Activity of Matter, piety towards parents in certain
i.51 ii. 378, 379.
; rude tribes, 236 quoted as to moral ;

Avarice, a modification of the Desire of Sympathy, 331 in favour of Free-

—
;

Power, i. 9, 158, 159. will against Voltaire, 359 frivolous ;

Avicenna, did he allow the stars an objections to Hume's doctrine of

Intelligent soul ? ii. 375. Causality, ii. 13, 14; quoted for the
effect of Custom in rendering objects,
naturally disagreeable, pleasing, 152.
Bacon: as against the argument for the Beausobre, referred to in regard to the
existence of Deity from Design, i. 58, history of Manichaeism, ii. 129.
59 a favourite maxim of his, " Know-
; Beauty of Virtue, i. 337 see KaXav, ;

ledge is Power," 158 noted in regard ; Honestum.

to Envy, 164; quoted as to the Affec- Belief, a simple notion, ii. 275.
tion of Kindred, 175 criticism of ; — Belsham meaning of Volition, i.
: his
his expression, " chain of natural 347 identifies Will and Desire, ib.
;

causes," ii. 25 quoted against Athe- ;

quoted as to his meaning of the word
ism, 89, 96 his doctrine in regard to
; Motive, 349 his argument in favour
;

the use of Final Causes vindicated of Necessity shown to be absurd, 363,

against Cudworth, &c, 95-99 quoted ; 364 ;supposes Remorse to be fal-
as to the disproportion between our lacious, 379, 380 refuted by Dr. ;

conceptions of happiness and the pos- Magee, 387, 388; argues for Necessity
sible attainments of human nature, from God's Foreknowledge, 397.
195, 196 as to the Stoics, 302.
; Benevolence as a duty towards our
:

Balbus, (the Stoic in Cicero,) allows fellow-creatures, i. 77-79 ii. 228-242 ;

;

Intelligence to the stars, ii. 375. many philosophers have attempted to

Baranzanus, allowed the stars a certain reduce all Moral Virtue to Benevo-
kind of Soul, ii. 375. lence as Ralph Cudworth, Henry
;

Barbauld, (Mrs.,) quoted in relation to More, John Smith, Francis Hutche-

Epictetus, and with regard to Happi- son, 228, 229; this theory refuted
ness, ii. 331, *eq. by others, as by Butler, 231 specially ;
'688 INDEX.

against Hutcheson's doctrine of, 239- Brougham, (Lord.) quoted as to the

242. pleasures of Science, i. 113, 114.
Benevolence, (the Divine,) i. 60-66 ii. ; Brown, (Dr. Thomas,) identifies Will
121-156. and Desire, i. 347.
Benevolent Affections, see Affections. Bruce, (the traveller,) quoted as to the
Bentham, (Jeremy,) on the pleasure of Proportion of the Sexes, as born in
Revenge, i. 205, 206. Abyssinia, ii. 381.
Berkeley: quoted as to the connexion Buchanan, (George,) quoted to prove
of Power and Property, i. 9, 159; that the love of Society is natural to
his ironical anticipation of Priestley's man, i. 142 adduced in regard to the
;

Materialism, 355. moral judgment of his countrymen

Bernier, quoted as to the influence of and contemporaries touching Assas-
the belief of Necessity on practice,
i. 394.
sination, 244 —
quoted as to the in-
;

adequacy of the present life to our

Blackstone, on Occupancy as constitut- capacity of living, ii. 191.
ing Property, ii. 263. Buffon {see Smellie,) quoted as to the
:

Blair, (Rev. Dr. Hugh,) adduced as to love of Society in children, i. 135 ;

the belief in a Future State, ii. 217. as to Adaptation and Design, ii. 66
Blane, (Sir Gilbert,) quoted as to Adap- as to Analogies in the animal king-
tation and Design, ii. 65. dom, 71, 72; adduced as hostile to the
Bligh, (Captain,) testimony to the uni- speculation of Final Causes in our
versal belief of mankind in a Future philosophical inquiries, 94.
State, ii. 208. Burke, reprehended for saying that " vice
Bodily manifestations of Passion, good loses half its malignity by losing all
effect from restraining them, ii. 313.
Body and Mind, see Mind.
itsgrossness," i. 339; —
quoted in illus-
tration of his confusion of Physical
Bolingbroke admits that Consciousness
: and Efficient Causes, ii. 27, $e<[.
is in favour of the Free-will of man, i. Burnet, (Bishop,) quoted on the evil
340, 332 ; —
why less confident of the effects of the doctrine of the Absolute
argument for the moral than of that Decrees, i. 375.
for the physical attributes of God, ii. Butler, (Bishop,) quoted as to the distinc-
124 quoted as in opposition to
; tion of Emulation and Envy, i. 1 1, 161
Wollaston in regard to the prepon- as to Moral Obligation, 35, 319; ad-
derance of misery over happiness, duced as conceding tbe supreme
143. ethical authority of Conscience, 35,
Bonnet: adopts tbe Liberty of Spon- 319, 320, 333 quoted as to Necessity
;

taneity, i. 360, 361 an admirer of ; being the very basis of Infidelity, 43 ;

Leibnitz, whose principle of the Suf- as to Pity or Compassion, 188, 189;

ficient Reason be is quoted as ex- his refutation of Hobbes's definition
pounding, 366 quoted as anxious to
;
of Pity, 193-195; affords Adam
reconcile the Leibnitian scheme of Smith important hints concerning
Necessity with Morality, 376, 377 Sympathy, 193-412, 413 quoted as
;

does not however distinguish it from to the Malevolent Affections, 196; as

Spinozism, ib. to the discrimination of Instinctive
Bonum Summum, see Sovereign Good. and Deliberate Resentment, ib. ; see
Boscovich quoted as to the principle of
: also 204 quoted in regard to the
the Sufficient Reason, i. 371 his ; — ;

Moral Faculty and to our Moral Per-

tbeory in regard to Matter, ii. 172, ceptions, 275, 27 G: i typographical
seq. error of, corrected, 276; remarks that
Bossut, (Abbe,) adduced in regard to Morality involves both a Judgment of
Predestination and Free-will, i. 344. the understanding and a Feeling of
Boyle, (Hon. Mr.,) on the validity of the the heart. 27i*>, 279 referred to as to
:

argument tor a God from Design, i. Self-deceit, 321, 112, 413; that Free-
his opinion criticised touch- agency in man is sapposed for the
ing tin- Divine agency, ii. 31; ad- moral character of God, 389, 390 J—
r
duced its to Final Causes, >7 quoted .
;
quoted as to Moral Evil being the
:
1i k vindii ation of the inference from result of (mr Free-agency, ii- 184,
st's in our philosophical in- as to the Moral Government of the
qni <:>. 100. Deity, 158; again, 159, 160; states
 ; ; ;

INDEX. 389

the argument for Immortality in a Principle of Causality, can it, as the

moderate form, 177 argues from the ;
Author apparently supposes, be limited
analogy of our birth into this life our to the Material universe ? ib ; some —
progress into another, 178 and from ; authors have assimilated this prin-
that of the metamorphosis of insects ciple to our Instinctive interpretation
in favour of our Immortality, 179 ;
of Natural signs, ii. 21 this contro-
;

quoted {pluries) in regard to the verted by the Author, who assimi-

tendencies of Virtue and Vice, 201, lates the notion of Cause to our
204 adduced as holding that the
; notions of Space and Time, 21, 22 ;

assertion of Atheism does not neces- not an inference from Reasoning, as

sarily imply a negation of a Future held by Hobbes, Clarke, Locke, &c,
State, 213 quoted as to the effect of
; 22 not derived from Induction, for
;

probable evidence for a Future State, it is not a contingent but a necessary

217 as to the extremes of Atheism

; truth, — we cannot but think it, ib.
and Superstition tending to unite, the necessity involved in Causation
222 refutes Benevolence as the
; admitted in the admission of invari-
Essence of Virtue, 231 says that ;
able connexion, 23 not a prejudice,
;

many have a strong curiosity about 24 Mr. Hume the first to hold this,
;

what is said, and no curiosity about and he not consistent, ib. ; differ-
what is true, 276 referred to on ; ence of Metaphysical or Efficient and
Veracity, 279 in relation to our duty
; of Physical causes, 24, seq., 27, seq.;
to our own happiness, 284,
secure Aristotelic distribution of Causes into
285 ; regard to Irritable disposi-
in Four kinds, 42, 43 ; is this only the
tions, 309. meanings of an am-
distinction of the
biguous word 42. ?
Cause and Effect, these terms relative,
Campbell, (Principal,) the imperfection therefore supposing each other cannot
of his opinion, in regard to Causality establish an argument for any objec-
as Experience cannot explain the tive connexion, ii. 17.
consciousness of Necessity, ii. 23. " Chain of Natural Causes," the exprc s-
Candour, a modification of Justice, i. sion criticised though used by Bacon,
81, seq.; ii. 248-254; may be viewed — Reid, &c., ii. 25.
in three lights 1°* in fairly appre- ; Change :
" every change implies a
ciating the Talents of others, ii. cause" axiom, according to the
this
248-250 2°" in fairly judging their
; Author, should be limited to the Ma-
Intentions, 250 3°' in fairly conduct-; terial Universe, for, Efficiency sup-
ing Controversy, 250-254. posing Mind, it is absurd to ascribe
Carneades, opposed by the elder Cato, Volitions to causes not mental, i. 352,
ii. 292, 293. 354, 356; ii. 17.
Carter, (Mrs. Elizabeth,) quoted on the Chanon, referred to as explaining the
Stoical Fate, i. 400. alleged impiety towards parents in
Casuistrv, origin, use, and uselessness certain rude tribes, i. 23i>.
of, ii. 363, 364. Children in regard to the sense of Merit
;

Cato, the elder, —

example of his ine- and Demerit, i. 315, 316 their ;

briety adduced, i. 235 quoted as to ; pleasures, as evincing the goodness

Interest upon money, 240 instanced ;
— of God, ii. 155.
for his versatile excellence, ii. 336. Chrysippus, adduced as to the insolubi-
Cause, Causation process of, not to be ;
lity of certain sophisms, i. 394.
perceived between the objects, i. 47, Cicero, quoted as to Curiosity, i. 6, 133 ;

seq.; ii. 12, seq. ; this opinion not as to the connexion of Power and
peculiar to Hume, ib.; does it imply Virtue, 10 as to the approval of
;

impulse? 49; imply ii. 16; does it Conscience being morally better than
contiguity in place ? ib. ; how do we any popular applause, 37 in answer ;

acquire the Knowledge, that every to the inference from the decay of
Change must have a Cause ? 49, body to the extinction of Mind, 72 ;

seq. ; ii. 15, seq., 17, seq. ; this Know- touching Veracity, 87 ii. 274 ;

ledge natural and original, 50 ; ii. 17, touching the Sovereign Good and re-
seq. power of beginning motion is an
; lative controversy between the Stoics
attribute of Mind, 50, 70, 71, 352; and Peripatetics, 96 ii. 305; touch-
;
 ;;;

31)0 INDEX.

ing the contemplations of science, tion of the Epicurean philosophy into

114; as to knowledge being only Rome, 291, 292, bis; as to the Stoical
agreeable if communicated, 134; as philosophy, 295 in favour of propos-
;

to the love of Fame, 153 as to the ; ing a lofty Moral standard, 299 in ;

independence of Virtue upon opinion, regard to Irritable tempers, 308 in ;

154, 155, 156; as resolving the love favour of indulgent criticism, 383.
of retirement and tranquillity into the Cincinnatus, (Quintus,) on the obliga-
desire of Power, 159; as to the Affec- tions of Religion, ii. 226.
tion of Kindred, (bis,) 172 almost ; Clarke, (Dr. Samuel,) his proof Priori A
exhausts the subject of Friendship in as to the existence of God, i. 45, 46
his treatise De Amicitia, 177 his ; ii. 8, seq. ; his theory in regard to the

character of Catiline quoted in illus- perception of Right and Wrong, to

tration of a systematic constancy even wit, the conformity to the eternal fit-
in vice, 210, 211; quoted as to the ness of things, 290, 304 quoted on ;

difference of Man and Brute in regard Moral Obligation, 321 as to the ;

to Happiness, or good upon the Free-agency of God, 357 as to the ;

whole, 212 on the meaning of

; Sufficient Reason, 371 on his refu- ;

Offidum, 220 as to Usury, 240 as ; ; tation of Collins, 375, 376 as assert- ;

to the Moral system of Epicurus, ing the testimony of Consciousness to

271 on the Beauty of Virtue, 302,
; our Free-will, 383, 384 admits the ;
—
307, 308 on the act of Brutus kill-
; universal Agency of God in the Ma-
ing Caesar, 311; as to Reason in terial world, ii. 29 Hume's error in
;

Morals, 322 as to the Ridiculous,

;
regard to him, ib.; examines and re-
335 as to the testimony of Con-
; futes Materialism, 371 adduced as ;

sciousness favourable of our Free-will, to the Law of Nature being the fiat
(ter,) 384, 385 (like Kant) places the ;
of God, 374 important observations
;

Free-agency of man in a power to on the probability of a Future State,

follow the suggestions of Reason in 177.
opposition to the impulses of passion, Classical associations, influence of, on
388 adduced as to the insolubility of
; our happiness, ii. 326.
certain sophisms, 394 quoted as to
the natural belief of men in the Eter-
;
— Cognitive and Motive powers of the
Mind, a distinction taken by Hobbes,
nity of Time and Immensity of Space, said to be new, i. 349.
ii. 10; as to Design as an argument Collins, (Anthony,) quoted as to the
for the existence of God, 45, 46 as ; meaning of wills or pleases, i. 348
to cur attention to the wonders of adopts the Liberty of Spontaneity,
creation, 61 and again, 62 quoted
;
; 360 quoted for his reasoning in favour
;

(ter,) to prove the prevalence of Mo- of Necessity, 373, seq.; endeavours to

notheism among the Roman thinkers, reconcile Fatalism with Morality, ib.
80, 81 as to the Universal Consent
; in this respect on a par with Edwards,
of men for the existence of God, 85, 374, 375 did answer Clarke
; error ;

86 ; as to the sophism known by of the Author on this point, 376

the logical name of Sorites, 110; on attempts to connect Liberty and
the soul's natural Immortality, 162; Atheism, Necessity and Religion,
again on the same, 168 again, 169 ; ;
390 argues for Necessity from God's
;

quoted for a passage containing the Foreknowledge, 397.

doctrine of Plato, that " we see Colman, quoted from his Terence, i.
through the eyes, not by the eyes," 325.
171, 172; in favour of the Universal Common Consent, see Consent.
Belief of mankind in a Future State, Condamine (M. de la), on the Emula-
(ter) ; as to the paramount im- tion of race horses, i. 162.
portance of Peligion, 225, 226; as to Condorcet, quoted as excepting the
wli.it is Right, being perspicuous, in maxims of Morality from the perni-
opposition to what is Expedient being cious influence of local custom and
dliscure, 2'.V2 ; M to the right of Pos fashion, i. 235; —
as coinciding with
session, 26S; touching Happiness, Laplace in regard to the Calculus of
testimonies to the great iniport- Probabilities, ii. 116.
ofbis Philosophical woiks, 288; Conscience, the supreme authority of
quoted On the history of the intnxhu- this principle introduced by Butler as
 INDEX. 391

a fundamental element in Ethics, i. Bacon vindicated against his strictures,

35, 319, 320; admitted by Smith, 96 referred to regarding the Divine
;

332, 333; a better and older word Benevolence, 122 resolved all Virtue ;

than Moral Sense, ii. 247. into Benevolence, 228 adduced as ;

Consciousness, in favour of Free- to the hypothesis of a Plastic Me-

agency, i. 42, 340, 382-390, 401 this ; dium, 374.
denied first by Hartley and afterwards Cunning, what, i. 91.
by Belsham and Priestley, 385, 386. Curiosity, or the Desire of Knowledge,
Consent, the Universal, among mankind see Knowledge.
to the existence of a Deity, the Curtis, (Sir Roger,) referred to in ex-
weight of this testimony, ii. 84-89 planation of the cruelty practised
first objection to, 87, 88 second ob- ; among certain rude tribes towards
jection to, (by Hume,) 88, 89 testi- ; parents, i. 236.
mony of, to the existence of a Future Cuvier, adduced in regard to the friend-
State, 205, seq. ship between Buffon and Daubenton,
Cook, (Capt.,) quoted in regard to the i. 176 quoted against Bonnet's inter-
;

Moral Judgment of the South Sea

savages, i. 237, 238 in reference to ; —
pretation of Free-will, 361 quoted
as to the evidences of Design in na-
;
—
the Universal Belief of mankind in a ture, ii. 54, 55 again to the same
;

Future State, ii. 207, 209. purport, 56, 57.

Co-operatives principles which co-
:

operate with our Moral Powers, i. 36

to wit, 1°- Decency, 36, seq., 327, D'Alembert, quoted as to the essence
328 2°- Sympathy, 38, seq., 328-333
;
;
of Virtue, i. 219 as happily apply- ;

3°- Sense of the Ridiculous, 39, seq., ing in physics the principle of the
334-336 4°- Taste, 40, seq., 337-339.
;
Sufficient Reason, 367 as to the ; —
Copleston, (Bishop,) quoted as to Ho- hope of Immortality, with reference
race, ii. 33. to M. de Sacy, ii. 197, 198, (see also
Cousin, (M.,) his merits commemorated, Note D,) 382, 383.
i. 114, 115. Davis, (Sir John,) quoted in regard to
Cowardice, evil influence of, on our hap- the decay of our bodily senses, ii.
piness, ii. 319, seq. 171 adduced in reference to the
;

Cowley, quoted as to Posthumous Re- analogical argument from our birth

putation, i. 406; in regard to Hap-— into this world to our survivance in
piness, 290.
ii. another, 178.
Cranz, quoted as to the Moral Judg- Dawson (Mr., of Sedbergh), opposes a
ment of the Greenlanders, i. 239 as ; — deceitful sense of Liberty, i. 382.
to their notion of the right of Pro- Deaf and Dumb, adduced in illustrate n
perty, ii. 269, 270. of the natural propension to Society,
Crawford, (Quintin?) quoted in regard i. 142.
to Indian laws touching Ordeal, i. Decency, or regard to character, as co-
315. operative with our Moral Powers, i.
Credulity, principle of, according to 36, seq., 327, 328.
Reid, i. 88 ii. 280 see Veracity.
; ;
Decrees, see Predestination.
Cudworth, referred the perception of Degerando, adduced in regard to Hume's
Right and Wrong to Intellect or scepticism about Cause and Effect, ii.
Reason, i. 25; quoted as to Fatalism 108.
being the root of Scepticism, 43; Deity, see God.
great merits of, in regard to Morals, Democritus, his Moral doctrine histori-
279 ;opposes the Moral theory of cally adduced by Cudworth, i. 284;
Hobbes, 281 quoted as reviewing
;
an early author of the theory of Ma-
different low theories of Morals, 283- terialism, ii. 369.
287 according to his own opinion
;
Demosthenes, quoted in regard to Mo-
our notions of Right and Wrong in- rality, 283. i.

capable of analysis, that is, are ulti- Deontology, (the doctrine of Duty,) a
mate and simple, 287-289 hints at ; — good name for Ethics, ii. 353.
an argument A Priori for the exist- Derham, quoted as to Design in Nature,
ence of God, substantially the same ii. 53 as to attraction or gravitation
;

with Newton's and Clarke's, ii. 8 ;

being native to Matter, by the will of
 ; ;;

392 INDEX.

God, 373 ; as to the Proportion of the Maupertuis's Theory of Nature, 375,

Sexes at birth, 380. 376.
Descartes against the argument for the Douglas,(Dr.,Editor of Cook's Voyages,)
existence of Deity from Final Causes, adduced in testimony of the universal
i. 58 quoted on the emotion of Pity,
;
belief of mankind in a Future State,
191 adopts Hobbes's theory of this
; ii. 208.

Affection, 193; quoted against the — Duty sense of, correspondent with the
:

legimitacy of reasoning in Physics Moral Faculty, i. 20, 21, seq. ; various

from Final Causes, ii. 93, 94 as to ; branches of, 1°- to the Deity, 2°- to
the preponderance of Moral Good, Others, 3°- to Ourselves, 44; specially
148 his merits in regard to the phi-
; of our Duties to God, 75, 76 {see also ;

losophy of Mind, 166 his Mechanical ; ii. 4-227 ;) specially of our Duties to

hypothesis in regard to the Activity our Fellow-creatures, 76-91 {see also ;

of Matter, 378, 379. ii. 228-282 ;) in particular of Bene-

Design, evidences of, in the universe, volence, 77-79 ii. 228-242, {see Be-
;

afford the proof of the existence of nevolence ;) of Justice, 79-87; ii. 243-
God from Final Causes, i. 51-60 ii. ; 273, {see Justice ;) of Veracity, 87-90
35-119, {see Adaptations, &c, Analo- ii. 274-282, {see Veracity;) Duties
gies, &c.) this proof, according to
; 6tyled Economical and Political, 90,
Reid, constitutes a certain kind of 91 ii.
; 282 specially of Duties to
;

syllogism, 52 ii. 43 of this the major

; ; Ourselves, 91-103 {see also ii. 283-
;

was admitted, the minor denied by 365 ;) in particular, of Prudence, of

the Ancient Sceptics, ii. 43 the vali- ; Temperance, of Fortitude, 91 ii. 283 ;

dity of the argument from Design not resolvable into Interest, or Self-
assailed by Hume, 52; ii. 43, seq.; love, 220, seq. ; not identical with
answered by Reid, ib. ; objected toby Prudence, 221. Duties to God, in —
other philosophers, 52, seq. ; ii. 51, general, Philosophy of the Active
seq. ; these redargued, 53 besides ; Powers, Book Third, ii. 4-227 in ;

these sceptical objections, others, as special, 219-227 why little need be

;

those of Descartes and Bacon, consi- said on this head, 219 Piety, (Love, ;

dered, 58, 59 ; —
inferences of Design Gratitude, Confidence in the Deity,)
from its effects are the result neither 219, 220; Conscience the Vicegerent
of reasoning nor of experience, ii. 46, of God, 220 Duties to Men, in gen-
;

seq.; supposing that God exists, he eral, {i.e., both to others and to our-
could not manifest his existence selves,) Philosophy of the Active
through evidences of Design more Powers, Book Fourth, 228-366; in
completely than is now done, 48 special, Duties to our Fellow-crea-
Design and Wisdom not to be con- tures, 228-282 Duties to Ourselves,
;

founded, 58, seq. 283-365.

Desire, distinguished from Will, i. 346,
seq.
Desires Knowledge, (Curio-
: to wit, of Economical, class of Duties so called,
Esteem, of Power,
sity,) of Society, of i. 90, 91 ; ii. 282.
(Ambition,) of Superiority, (Emula- Economists, hold the connexion of Vir-
tion,) on, in general, i. 5, seq., 131- tue and Happiness in regard to Na-
166; Artificial, or as Hutcheson calls tional policy, i. 225 ii. 366. ;

tliom, Secondary Desires, 11, 12, 164- Edgeworth, (Miss,) referred to as to

166; not virtuous of themselves, but Curiosity, or the Desire of Knowledge,
manly and respectable if compared i. 135.
with our Animal Appetites, 171. Education, influence of, turned into an
Diderot, big representation of the sehemo argument for Necessity, i. 374 ; — in-
of Necessity quoted, 378, 379 ami i. : fluence of, on our Happiness, through
approved, 865;
gence in nature,
—quoted
ii. 61,
as to Intelli-
{bis;) against
Association, ii. 326, seq.; through
Opinions, 328, seq.
original [ntelligence or Deity, 109, Edwards, (Jonathan,) adopts the Liberty
110; his argument on this controvert- Spontaneity, i. 360; endeavours to
ed. in. 111: quoted as to the pita
1 reconcile the scheme of Necessity
sures of Repose, 842, 843; animad- with Morality, 374, 375, 392 in this ;

IDS on, 343, 34 4; opposed to respect he has done harm, by making

 lNETtfX. 393

poison palatable, 374 argues for

; 391 ; — their notion in regard to the
Necessity from God's Foreknowledge, ii. 32
felicity of the gods, they argued ;

&c., 397 ; as a Necessitarian his doc- against any god, not merely against
trine heretical according to the West- a plurality of gods, 84 their argu- ;

minster Coni"ession, 402. ment for Atheism Cause in relation to

Effect, Effectuation see Cause, Causa-
; had greater weight France than in
tion. Hume's Scepticism, 108 their Moral ;

Efficiency, Power, or Necessary Connec- theory contained nothing elevating,

tion, see Causation. 226, 289 how the word Epicurean
;

Egyptians, according to Maupertuis, came to be synonymous with sensual,

believed that the universe was actu- 290 history of the introduction of
;

ated by Intelligence, ii. 376. the Epicurean philosophy into Rome,

Eleusinian Mysteries, in them was 290, 291.
taught the Unity of God, ii. 222. Epicurus of the respect paid to his me-
:

Ellis, (Mr.,) referred to in explanation mory by the Romans, ii. 226 his ;

of the cruelty practised in certain opinion of the Supreme Good, 288 ;

rude tribes in reference to parents, i. his amiable disposition manifested on

236. his death-bed, 288, 289 borrowed ;

Emotions of Pleasure or Pain from the hisMoral Theory from Aristippus,

perception of Right or Wrong in con- 293 an early author of the theory of
;

duct, i. 31, 32, 301-313 these emo- ; Materialism, 369.

tions stronger with respect to the Esteem, the Desire of, i. 7, 8, 143-156 ;

conduct of others than to our own, soon discovered in infants, 143 an ;

316. original principle, not resolvable into

Emulation, {see Superiority, Desire of,) Association, 143, sei. ; the love of
distinguished from Envy, i. 11, 161, Posthumous Fame, 144 this not an ;

197, 198; ii. 248-250; may be re- illusion of imagination, as held by

marked as influential among the lower Wollaston and Smith, 147 in this ;

animals, 11, 162, 163 Emulation and

; respect metaphysical puzzles have
Envy rarely unmixed, 163. little influence, 149 Mr. Hume's ;

England, English many Anglican

: theory touching the love of Fame
divines opposed to the Interest of rejected, 151 ; a useful principle of
money, i. 241 English lawyers, action, 153.
— the
;

many in like manner opposed to Ethics, consist of two parts,

Usury, 241, 242 Anglican Church,
; Theory of Morals, and its Practical
great merits of, in respect of Morality, doctrines, i. 276; see these heads.
278, 279. Evil : the three theories to ac-
origin of,

Envy, distinguished from Emulation, i. count Pre-existence, Ma-

for, to wit,
11, 161, 197, 198; ii. 248-250; but nichseism, Optimism, i. 62 ii. 126- ;

these rarely unmingled, 163. 1 33 ; two classes of, — Moral and

Epaminondas, a saying of, quoted in Physical, 63 ii. 133 the origin of
; ;

illustration of Parental Affection, i. the former is in the abuse of Free-

174. will of the latter, in a violation of
;

Epictetus, quoted to show that the the laws of nature, 63 ii. 133, 134 ;
;

Stoics allowed Free-Agency, i. 400 whv has God permiiied the existence
— and that the universe is replete with of evil, 63, seq.; ii. 135-142: Good
marks of Divine Benevolence, ii. 155, preponderant over Evil, 65, seq. ; ii.
(bis;) as to the Stoical philosophy, 142 the opposite held by Mauper-
;

295-297 in favour of proposing a

; tuis, ii. 142 ;— Moral Evil, ii. 133-
lofty Moral standard, 299 as to Re- ; 136 may be necessary for the acqui-
;

signation and Happiness, 330 as to ; sition of virtuous habits, 135 Physi- ;

the claim of painstaking to enjoy, cal Evil, 136-142; pain necessary to

330, seq. rouse our exertions, 136, seq.; in
Epicureans their opinion as to the
: some respects the ways of Provi-
Sovereign Good, which they placed in dence are unsearchable, but much
Pleasure, or rather in the negation of may be explained bj ihe Ifree-Aj
Pain, i. 94 ii. 287-293 their Moral
; ; of man, and the government ot God,
theory historically adduced by Cud- by general laws, 141, 142; on the
worth, 284 were they Libertarians?
; balance of Moral Good and Evil, or
394 INDEX.

proportion of happiness and misery, Fontenelle, quoted as to posthumous

142-151 on the balance of Physical
; Reputation, i. 405.
Good and Evil, 151-156; Physical Force and Motion, their connexion in-
Evil unavoidable in a world like ours, explicable,
351, seq. i.

governed by general laws, and in- Foreknowledge, Divine, see Prescience,

habited by Free-Agents, but this in a &c.
great measure remedied by Habit, Forster, (Dr.,) quoted for his account of
152, seq. the natives of Otaheite, ii. 137, 138.
Excitation, love of, i. 5, 128. Franklin, quoted in reference to Hus-
Experience informs us of what is or has bandry, ii. 93.
been, not of what must be, ii. 22, 23, Free-Agency, (see also Necessity,) on
46. the question regarding, i. 42, 43,
343-402 conformable to the Com-
;

mon Belief of mankind, 42 its pro- ;

Fabricius, (John Albert,) quoted as to per place in this discussion, 43, 340,
the authorship of the treatise De 341 its abuse originates Moral Evil,
;

Mundo, ii. 379, 380. 63; ii. 134, 135; Consciousness in

Fame, nee Esteem, desire of. favour of, 340, 382-390 this is main- ;

Far niente, how

pleasing, i. 129. tained by Bolingbroke, 340, 382 by ;

Fatalists, are they of course Necessi- Price, 352 by Dr. James Gregory,
;

tarians? i. 392, 400-402. ib. ; by Clarke, 357, 396, 398 by ;

Fenelon, referred to as to the connexion Locke, 383 by Magee, 387, 388 by

; ;

of Politics and Ethics, ii. 366. Reid, 396 this proof denied, first by
;

Ferguson, (Dr. Adam.) quoted as to the Hartley, afterwards by Priestley and

theories touching the Sovereign Good, Belsham, 385, 386 connected with ;

i. 96, see 94, 95 as to the Affection

; are certain ambiguous terms, 343-355 ;

of Kindred, 172 referred to as to ; common argument against, 355-359

Patriotism, 180; quoted as to the dis- view of the question given by Hobbes,
tinction of Selfishness and Self- Love, 359-365; the scheme of, in relation to
216 as to the meaning of corporeal
;
the human Will may be held, albeit
signs, 248 ;
—
as to the relative priority the doctrine of Fatalism is not repu-
of Monotheism or Polytheism, ii. 78, diated, (as exemplified by the Stoics,
79: to shew the value of Activity, St. Austin, the Scottish Calvinists,
not merely as manifesting the wisdom &c, though the reconciliation of these
of God, but as constituting the happi- opinions be' inconceivable,) 392, 400-
ness of man, 138, seq. ; as employing 402 the only one of our faculties to
;

the metamorphosis of insects to evince which we cannot even imagine any-

the probability of a future state, 179, thing added, 393, 394 conducive to ;

180 as employing the anatomy of the

; the practice of Morality, 395.
foetus to the same purport, 205 as ; Freedom, see Free-Agency.
to the Stoical philosophy, 297, 298 ;
French, with them agriculture asso-
as to Conduct and Happiness, 314 ;
ciated with ideas of meanness and
as to the effect of our Opinions upon poverty, ii. 92.
Happiness, 328-330 as to the miseries ; Friendship, Affection of, i. 175-179;
of inertion, 344. various problems relative to, dis-
Final Causes, (nee Design ;) the expres- cussed, 177 to wit, in regard to
;

sion first introduced by Aristotle, i. the number and sex of the subjects,
52 ii. 42
: ; —
on the use and abuse of ib.
their speculation in philosophical in- Future State, i. 68-75; ii. 161-218;
quiries, ii. 93-108; philosophers op- argument for, drawn from the Nature
posed to and in favour of the speoula- of Mind, 69 72; ii. 162-180; from
t ion, ib.; the reasonings from, it must the Circumstances in which man is
1h- confessed, easily liable tol>e abused, here placed, 72-75; ii. 180-218;—the
99. soul's Immortality not necessarily de-
Fitness of things, a conformity to. is Dr. peadenl on its Immateriality, ii. 162,
Clsrke'a criterion of Morals, i, 290. 177 on the contrary, some phi-
:

Fontaine, quoted as to the inadequate losophers allow the essential distinc-

expression <>f the immateriality of tion of Mind and Matter, but dis-
mind, ii 170 sa to Skfecsenas. 182. allow the individual Immortality of
 ;
; ;

INDEX. 395

the soul, 176 ; an analogical argu- ii. 4-11 proof a posteriori, 47-60;
;

ment for, drawn from the metamor- ii. 12-108 proved a priori and a
;

phosis of insects, 178, 179; an ana- posteriori, 45 ii. 7 proof a priori, ; :

logical argument for, from the birth 45, 46 his existence does not seem
;

of the foetus, 178; natural Desire of to be an intuitive truth, 46; ii. 11 ;

Immortality argued for its reality, reasoning for from effect to cause,
180-185 argument for, founded on
; 47-51 ii. 12-35
; Attributes of, see ;

Kemorse, 185, 186 argument for, ; Attributes Moral Government of,

;

founded on the presumption of our see Government; our Duties to, see
Love of Knowledge and Capacity of Duties Moral Attributes of, surren-
;

Improvement, 186-197 argument for, ; dered by Paley, 300 his Attributes ;

founded on the indefinite progress in incomprehensible, 401 ii. 7, 33, ;

Improvement of our Moral Habits and 77 ; —

Divine Agency admitted by the
Intellectual Desires, 198, 199 argu- ; Author to be universal in the Ma-
ment for, founded on the Discordance terial world, ii. 28 this admitted ;

between our Moral Judgments and the also by Clarke, &c, 29, sea.; makes
Course of Human Affairs, 199-204 a ; part and parcel of Boscovicn's theory
future state confirmed by the Uni- of Matter, 174, seq.; the opposition
versal Belief of Mankind, 205-218; to this opinion has originated various
only probable evidence for, but this theories in regard to the Activity of
as strong as what we usually have in Matter, 30, (Note A,) 369-379 the ;

the affairs of life, 216. analogy of a Machine does not fairly

illustrate the Divine Agency in the
universe, 35 the Universal Consent
;

Gagltani, (Abbate.) adduced as to Ho- of mankind for the existence of God,

race, ii. 33. of what weight, 84-89 why the argu- ;

Galiani, (Abbe,) quoted as representing ments for his existence have not a
the scheme of Necessity, i. 380, 381. greater influence upon the human
Gall, (Dr.,) quoted in regard to the mind, 90-93 God's Knowledge, it ;

lethal point of the Medulla Spinalis, would be absurd to suppose to be

ii. 196, 197. only under the conditions of human
Gassendi : his theory of Morals histori- knowledge, 122 his Unity taught in ;

cally referred to, by Cudworth, i. the Eleusinian mysteries, 222.

285 his private life exemplary, ib.
; Godwin, adduced as a Utilitarian mor-
his life of Epicurus adduced, ii. 293. alist, ii. 237, 238.
Gay, (Rev. Mr.,) the first who attempted Gcerenz, quoted as to the authorship of
to explain everything by Association, the book De Mundo, ii. 380.
i. 165, 166. Golden Rule, promulgated by Butler, i.
Gentoo6, their laws in regard to Ordeal 413 by Hobbes and Smith, 414
;

referred to, i. 315. anticipated by Isocrates, ib.

Gerando, see Degerando. Goldsmith, quoted as to the love of
Gibbon, quoted as to the enjoyment of country, i. 184 as to the Proportion ; —
the Monks, ii. 344. of happiness and misery, (and an
Gillies, (Dr. John,) quoted on Smith's error of his corrected,) ii. 146.
Theory of Moral Sentiments, i 411 ;
Good, (Sovereign,) see Sovereign Good.
his translation of Aristotle's Ethics Governing principies of Action, see
and Politics, praised, 217 ii. 357. ; Rational.
Gisborne, refutes Paley's Utilitarian Government, (Moral, by the Deity,) i.
scheme of Morals, ii. 233. 67; ii. 156-160; dispensation of hap-
Glassford, (Mr. James,) commemorated, piness and misery distributed as Re-
i. 116. wards and Punishments, ii. 157 ob- ;

Gobien, (Pere Le,) testimony of, in rela- jections to this doctrine considered,
tion to a Future State, ii. 207, 208. 157, seq.
God as our Duties to the Deity must
; Graunt, (Major,) quoted as to the Pro-
be inferred from our relation to him portion of the Sexes as born, ii.
as the Author and Governor of the 380. •

universe, this supposes an inquiry Gravesande, quoted as to the meaning

into the principies of Natural Religion, of instinct, instinctive, i. 199 adopts ;

i. 45 ii. 4 existence of, 45, 46

; ; the Liberty of Spontaneity, 360.
 ;;

396 INDEX.

Gravity, on the nature of this material Stoic, 293-303 the Peripatetic, 304,
;

quality, ii. 372, 373. 305 ; result of their doctrine Hap- —

Gray, quoted as to Pity, i. 196 as to ;
ness arises chiefly from the Mind,
Materialism and Free-will, 415, 416 : 305 great secret of, is (as remarked
—
;

as to the effect of scenery in sug- by Horace) to accommodate ourselves

gesting the notion of Divinity, ii. 76, to things external, rather than to
77 to shew that he had no confident
: accommodate things external to our-
longing for a future life, hut this selves, 312.
disproved, 183. Harles, quoted as to the authorship of
Greek, see Ancient, &c. the treatise De Mundo, ii. 379, 380;
Gregory, (Dr. James,) adduced as to the adduced against the rash imputation
Connexion between Motive and Ac- of Atheism, 380.
tion, i. 352. Harpe, (M. La,) quoted in regard to
Gresset, quoted as to the Ridiculous, i. Rochefoucauld's Maxims, i. 259.
40, 335 as to the tone of French
; Harris, (Mr. James, of Salisbury,) quoted
society, 262 as to the Moral Judg-
; in regard to Patriotism, i. 183 as ;

ment of men, 325, 326. to the nature of Man, 273, 274 as ;

Grew, Nehemiah,) quoted .as to

(Dr. to Necessity, 398, 399 as to Aris- ;
—
Adaptation and Design, ii. 65. totle's fourfold distinction of Causes,
Grief, pleasure from this Affection, i. ii. 42, 43 instanced for his candour
;

169, 170. and indulgence, 253, 254 quoted as ;

Grimm, quoted his representation of the to the Stoical philosophy, 294.

scheme of Necessity, i. 378. Hartley: his attempts to explain all
Grotius, adduced on the right of Pro- psychological phaenomena by Associa-
perty, ii. 262 ; referred to as to the tion, i. 166; one of the Selfish
connexion of Politics and Ethics, Moralists, 228 the first who denied
;

366. Consciousness to be in favour of Free-

Agency, 385
Causes, ii. 101.
—
quoted as to Final
;

Habits, influence of, on Happiness, i. Harvey, quoted as to Final Causes, ii.

101, seq. ; ii. 333-338. 100.
Haller, quoted as to Nostalgia, i. 184 Hawkesworth, (Dr.) his testimony to
— as to Adaptation and Design, ii. 64. the Universal Belief of mankind in a
Hamilton, (Bishop of Ossory,) referred Future State, ii. 207, 208.
to touching the argument a priori, i. Heart, pleasures of the, to wit, of Bene-
46; ii. 10. volence, Love, Pity, Esteem, Con-
Happiness, see Sovereign Good, (Desire sciousness of doing Duty, ii. 348,
of, or Self-love, see Self-love,) on, i. 350.
93, seq. ; ii. 284-366; influence of Hecato, (the Stoic,) referred to, ii. 294.
our Temper on, 97, seq.; ii. 307-317 ;
Helvetius, quoted as to the influence
influence of our Imagination on, 99, of the Passions on the Intellectual
seq. 317-328; influence of our Powers, i. 119, 120.
; ii.

Opinions on, 100, seq. ; ii. 328-333; Heraclitus, his saying quoted " that a
—
influeuce of our Habits on, 101, seq. man c<innot bathe twice in the same
ii. 333-338, see Pleasure connexion ; river," ii. 169.
of, with Virtue, 103; same as good Heumannus, alleged as to the author-
upon the whole, 212 different notions ; ship of the book De Mundo, ii. 380.
of, determined different external ex- Heyne, quoted as quoting Pindar, Plato,
ions of benevolence, kindness &c, on the hope of Immortality, ii.
may thus appear cruelty, 247 Hap- ; — 184.
piness ami Misery, proportion of, in Hoadley, (Bishop,) quoted as to Clarke's
tin: world, ii. 120, 142 15l'> Bappi- ; anxiety about the Moral Agency of
in ssof society, rejected as a principle man, i. 376.
of Moral /, (see Utility:) of Hobbes, holds the Desire of Society not
the dirty of employing the we meem to be a disinterested love, i. 137 his ;

M to secure our own, 284-286 J

doctrine touching Pity, 193, 195;
ma of the Grecian schools on the distinguishes Instinctive and Deli-
Mihr 106 ;
(also, i. 94-96,) to berate Resentment, 'J8 his Moral
1
;

wit, tho Epicurean, 287-293; the doctrine assailed by Shaftesbury, 253,

 —
;;; —

INDEX. 397

254; bis doctrine in regard to the objected to by him, 52 as to the ;

perception of Right and Wrong, 280 nature of Justice, 83, seq.; ii. 255;
opposed by Cud worth and Shaftes- that writers on Jurisprudence do not
bury, 281, 282 his Moral theory his-
; limit themselves to Justice as they
torically adduced by Cudworth, 285 ;
profess, but frequently consider Uti-
more fully stated, 287, 288 why he ; lity, 86; ii. 259 quoted as to Plea-
;

introduced a new nomenclature in sure and Pain, 97 ii. 306 as to an

; ;

regard to the faculties of Mind, 349 ;

advantage of Moral Philosophy, 123 ;

adopts the Liberty of Spontaneity, his theory quoted as to the love of

360, 361 promulgates the Golden
;
Praise, 151 quoted as resolving
;

Rule and anticipates Smith, 414 ; Morality, or the perception of Right

thought by the Author to be right in and Wrong into a Sense, 291, 292,
one point against Bramhall, to wit, 305 coincides in this with Prota-
;

in repudiating the assertion that God goras, 293 ; makes the Beauty of
is not just, but justice itself, not Virtue the Beauty of Utility, 313 ;

eternal, but
eternity itself, ii. 9 inconsistent in holding the scheme of
quoted as to the Definition of Virtue, Moral Necessity in one part of his
355. philosophy, and in another denying
Homer, adduced as to the Affection of the Necessity of Causation, 352 ;

Kindred, i. 174. coincides in the main with Locke on

Honestum, distinguished from Utile, i. the Origin of our Knowledge, ii. 15 ;

220, seq.; see KaXov. notices that Cause and Effect are
Honesty, see Integrity. relative terms, consequently each
Honour, point of, in relation to Veracity, verbally, but only verbally, presup-
i. 90 ii. 277.
; poses the other, 17 merit and de- ;

Honour, Honourable; according to Reid merit of his doctrine of Causation,

equivalent to Rectitude or Honestum, 25, 27, seq. ; quoted in reference to
i. 221. that doctrine, 26, 27 corrected for ;

Horace, quoted as to the limited love an historical mistake in regard to the

of Applause, i. 155 as to Constancy
; admission of Occasional Causes by
even in our vices, 210 as to Vanity,
; English philosophers, 29 opposed to ;

266 as to the Moral perception in the ancient Sceptics, as to the exist-

—
;

Children, 316; against the Epicurean ence of God, 49, seq. ; admits that
notion of Divinity, ii. 33 as to our
; Nature does nothing in vain, and acts
Feelings in the contemplation of the always by the simplest and best
wonders of nature, 62, (bis;) to prove methods, 50 his reasonings against the
;

the prevalence of Monotheism among theological inference from Design, pro-

the intelligent of antiquity, 83 as to ; ceed upon the erroneous supposition
the Preponderance of Moral G ood, 148 that this inference is only the result
as to the Unity of God being taught of Experience, 51 referred to as to
;

in the most sacred mysteries of the the priority of Polytheism or Mono-

ancient world, 222. theism, 79 his admission of the
;

Horsley, (Bishop,) quoted as coinciding cogency of a Universal Consent among

with Monboddo, and as opposed to men in favour of or against an opinion,
Newton, ii. 377. 86, 87 ; his objection to this argu-
Huillier, (M. L\) see L'Huillier, Prevost. ment quoted, 88, 89 his scepticism ;

Humboldt, adduced in regard to the in regard to Cause and Effect made a

Proportion of the Sexes at birth in comparatively small impression in
America, ii. 382. France, 108 this scepticism contro-
;

Hume his opinion as to the nature and

: verted by arguments drav%n from the
origin of Moral distinctions, i. 27 as ; Calculus of Probabilities, and by what
to his objection to the argument a philosophers, ib. ; praised for calling
posteriori for the existence of God our anticipation of the Uniformity of
drawn from the non-apprehension of Nature an Instinct, 118 inconsistent ;

Causnlity, how far this is valid, 47, in one short passage which appears
seq. ; ii. 13, sej. ; on his doctrine in favour of Materialism, 165; an
concerning the Origin of our Ideas, objection of his to the reasoning for a
48 the argument for a God drawn
; Future State, noted, 200 quoted in ;

from the manifestations of Design favour of the Universal Belief of man-

 ;;

398 INDEX.

kind in a Future State, 206, 207 ;

Imitation, principle of, as applied in ex-
as repeating the maxim, " truth is planation by medical authors, i. 196
one, errors infinite in number," 212 ;
Sympathetic of the Author, ib.
against the Utilitarian theory of Immateriality of the Mind, on, i. 69,
Morals, which, however, he has adopt- seq. ; —
Body and Mind intimately
ed, 234, 235, 238, 239 his objection ; connected and correlative, but distin-
as to the distinction of actions Ma- guishable, ii. 163, 171.
terially right and wrong quoted, 359, Immortality, {see Future State ;) na-
360. tural desire of, an argument for its
Hunter, (Dr. William,) referred to as to reality, ii. 180-185.
Final Causes, ii. 100. Immutability of Moral distinctions,
Hurd, (Bishop,) his misapprehension of sometimes called in question, and by
Cowley corrected, i. 406. whom, i. 31.
Husbandry, see Agriculture. Inclination,an ambiguous word, its
Hutcheson as to the Secondary Desires,
: meaning explained, i. 347.
i. 12, 165; his doctrine in regard to Incomprehensible, see Infinite, God,
the origin of our Moral perceptions, Attributes.
26, set/.; admits a special Sense of Inconceivable, see Infinite, God, Attri-
Veracity, 87 ii. 274 holds that
; ; butes.
Self-love is never an object of moral Indifference, Liberty of, as opposed to
approbation, 92 quoted as to our ;
Liberty of Spontaneity, i. 360 an ;

disinterested Desire of Posthumous objectionable expression, 364

Reputation, 149 his theory of our ; Indignation, the Resentment for an in-
perception of Right and Wrong, to jury to another, i. 16.
wit, a Moral Sense, 290 opposes tbe ; Infinite, cannot be positively compre-
objection that may be made to such hended bv the finite, i. 75, seq., 401
a Sense, 290, seq.; partially defended ii. 7, 33, 77, 120, 377.

by the Author, 295 ; referred to as to Innate Ideas, defended by Shaftesbury

Moral Beauty and Deformity, 304, against Locke as the foundation of
seq.; calls ought a confused word, Morality, i. 254.
331; ii. 247 ;— resolved all Virtue Insoluble, many sophisms cannot be
into Benevolence, ii. 229 this theory ; solved, i. 393, 394.
specially refuted, 239-242 his appli- ; Instinct, instinctive on the meaning of
;

cation of Algebra to Morals, 230 re- ; these terms, i. 199, 200.

futes the Selfish theory of Morals, Instinctive Principles of action, three
233, 234 suggested to Smith his
; classes of, to wit, Appetites, Desires,
theory of the right of Property, 263 ;
Affections, i. 4-16; on, in general,
thinks that " men have commonly 126-206.
themselves the good or bad qualities Integrity, Uprightness or Honesty, a
which they ascribe to mankind," modification of Justice, i. 83, seq.; ii.
311; quoted in reference to Happi- 254-259 ; is in certain respects dis-
ness, 312. tinguished Gram the other nrta<
Hutton, (Dr. James,) on his genius and seq. ; ii. 255, seq. ; how it •fiords
opinions, ii. 175. materials for a separate science of
Hylozoism, theory of, second of the six Natural Jurisprudence, 85, seq.: ii.
hypotheses to explain the apparent 255-259.
Activity of Matter, i. 50 ii. 373. ; Intellect ;Intellectual, distinguished
from our Active and Moral Powers, i.
117, 118.
Interest,see Self-love ; Happiness, de-
Ii>fal Theory; the refutation of this sire of.
theory in regard to the objects of jht- Interest tor the use ofmoney, reason of
oeption ma unfavourable to Mate- the contradictory opinions in regard
rialism, ii. 166, 107. to its morality in different ages and
Identity, Personal, our consciousness of, nations, i. 239-242 this diversity;

ii. L< troves a uniformity in regard to the

Imagination, influence of, on Happiness, Jundamental rules of Duty, 242.
i. '.''.'. s,,/: n . pleasures of, Intuitive Judgments may involve Simple
ft. 846, 347. Ideas, as identity, Causation, me .
 INDEX. 399

and simple ideas may determine In- expressions Liberty of Spontaneity,

tuitive Judgments, i. 30. and Liberty of Indifference, 364 ;

Isocrates, his anticipation of the Golden holds a deceitful Consciousness of

Rule, i. 414. Liberty, 380, 383, 400 ;— homologates
Mr. Boyle's opinion in regard to the
Divine Agency, ii. 31 his theory of ;

James, (St.,) quoted on the nature of the right of Property corrected, 260-
Virtue, ii. 353. 273 his notions in regard to Matter,
;

Jenyns, (Mr. Soame,) coincides with the as naturally capable of Active Move-
Nominalists in founding Morality ment, 370, 372.
upon the express Precept of God, i. KadrtKov {to,) same as Officium, 220.
31, 299; quoted as to our Moral KdTo^Sujjt.a.ra, same as Perfecta Officio,,
Judgments, 325. Rectitudines, ii. 301.
Jews, reason of their law against Usury, Kawley, (Gideon,) quoted as to the
i. 243 their laws referred to in re-
;
notion of Property among the Indians
gard to Ordeal, 315. of North America, ii. 269.
Johnson, (Dr. Samuel,) coincides with Kepler, quoted as to the plan of Provi-
the Nominalists in founding Morality dence, i. 55 held that the stars had
;

upon the express Precept of God, i. Life and Intelligence, ii. 375, 376.
31, 299; his erroneous confusion of Kindred, love of, i. 172-175.
Will and Desire, 348. Knowledge a Simple Notion, ii. 275
:
;

Jones, (Sir William,) his translation Desire of, or Curiosity, i. 5, 6, 131-

from the Hindoo Hymn, to Narrayna, 135 not a Selfish principle, 6
; its ; —
quoted, ii. 34; quoted as to the relation to Veracity, ii. 275; is Power,
priority of Monotheism to Polythe- i. 158.

ism, 79. Knox, (John,) adduced in regard to the

Jortin, (Dr.,) quoted as to Mental cha- Moral judgment of his countrymen
racter, i. 119; in favour of the Con- and contemporaries touching Assas-
ditional, and in opposition to the Ab- sination, i. 244.
solute Decrees, 395 referred to as
; — Koo-fiou (n££i,) on the authorship of the
to the history of Manichseisin, ii. 129. treatise, ii. (Note B ) 379, 380.
;

Jouffroi, (M.,) referred to, i. 115.

Jurisprudence, Natural, limited to Jus-
tice viewed as Integrity or Honesty, Lacroix, referred to in relation to the
i. 85, 8eq.; ii. 255-259; on the divi- Calculus of Probabilities,
ii. 108,
sion of Rights in the Roman Law, 109.
257-259 {see Roman Law.)
;
Lactantius, quoted on the Common Con-
Justice, a Duty towards our Fellow- sent of Mankind to the existence of
creatures, i. 79-87 ii. 243-273
;
as ; a Deity, ii. 85.
Candour, 81-83; ii. 248-254, {nee Laertius, referred to in regard to Epi-
Candour;) as Integrity, Uprightness, curus, ii. 289.
or Honesty, 83-87; ii. 254-259, {see Laplace, quoted in favour of Necessity,

— —
Integrity )) expressed in the Golden i. 387 —
follows Leibnitz in founding
;

Rule, " Do unto others as you the Necessity of human actions on

would that they should do unto you," the principle of the Sufficient Reason,
ii. 244. ii. 17 an argument of his, drawn
;

Juvenal, quoted as to Pity, i. 188. from the Calculus of Probabilities,

against a Divine and overrulii
telligence, 111-114; this argument
Kaempfer, quoted as to the Proportion controverted, 113, seq. ; under tlio
of the Sexes as born in Japan, ii. title of Doctrine of Probabilities con-
381 founds two different things, 115, seq.;
K**o, (™,) i. 21, 302, 304, 309, 311; rightly holds that the same Propor-
same as Honestum, 220, 304. tion between the Bexefl at birth pre-
Kames, (Henry Home, Lord,) on the vails everywhere, 382.
discrimination of Instinctive and De- Lauzun, (Count de,) adduced to prove
liberate 199; adduced
Resentment, i. the Social nature of Man, i. 140, 141.
in regard to his theory of Resent- Law, (Rev. Dr.,) one of the Selfish
ment, 204 fond of the objectionable
; Moralists, i. 228; referred to touching
 ;

400 INDEX.

the Comparative numbers of the God's Attributes, ii. 7 as to the adap- ;

pood and bad, ii. 144. tation of our faculties to the circum-
Leibnitz bis mechanical hypothesis in
: stances of our existence, 67-69 is he ;

regard to the Activity of Matter, i. an Optimist, as held by Dr. Joseph

51 ii. 378, 379 adopts the Liberty
; ; Warton, 131 quoted as to the pos-
;

of Spontaneity, 360 his argument ; sible disconnexion of the soul's Im-

for Necessity, to wit, the Sufficient mortality and Immateriality, 162 ;

Reason, 365-372 his peculiar opinions

; on Occupancy and Property, 262 re- ;

now fallen into neglect, 367 has ; ferred to as to the connexion of

managed the argument for Necessity Politics and Ethics, 366 his theory ;

with more address than Collins, Ed- of the powers of Matter, 370.
wards, or Hume, 368 anxious to re- ; Lucan, quoted as to the Pleasure of
concile Necessity with Morality, 376; Grief, i. 170; as to the Stoical Fate,
— maintained that mental Volitions 401 ;
—
to shew the prevalence of Mono-
are not the Efficient Causes of cor- theism among the more intelligent of
poreal movements, ii. 16. antiquity, ii. 83 as to Cato and the
;

L'Huillier (and Prevost,) quoted against Stoics, 303.

Condorcet in regard to the doctrine Lucretius, quoted as to the Utilities of
of Probabilities, ii. 116-118. Society, i. 138 —
as to the Felicity of
;

Liberty,(«e€ Free- Agency,) an ambiguity the gods, ii. 32 certain objections to

;

of the term, i. 348, 350 various ac- ; Adaptation and Design, quoted, 65
ceptations in which it is used, 362. quoted to prove the Atheistic scope
Life, cowardly love of, shown by Epi- of the Epicurean doctrine, 84, (bis;)
cureans, ii. 181. to prove the purport of the Epicurean
Lille, (Abbe de,) adduced as to our na- argument against our Original In-
tural love of Society, i. 141 as to ; telligence, or a God, 109.
the light in which his countrymen
viewed the profession of Husbandry,
ii. 92. Mackenzie, (Mr. Henry,) quoted as to
Lindsay, (Sir David,) quoted in regard Moral Feeling, i. 306 as to the Moral ;

to Assassination, i. 244, 245. Judgment of men, 326.

Linnaeus, a writer in his Amcenitates Mackintosh, (Sir James,) quoted as to
Academics, quoted as to the effect of the Hindoo Pantheism, i. 358 as to ;

Habit in rendering what is naturally the only question in the Problem of

disagreeable pleasing, ii. 153, 154. Liberty and Necessity, 382, 383.
Livy, quoted as to Patriotism, i. 187 Maclaurin, (Prof. Colin,) quoted on
— as to the paramount Importance of
;

Spinozism, i. 357 on the principle of ;

Religion, ii. 226. the Sufficient Reason, 372 adduced ; —

Locke his opinion in regard to the
: as to the Adaptations of the universe,
Origin of our Moral Perceptions, i. ii. 74 quoted as to Final Causes,
;

25, 26 as to the Origin of our

; 105 as to the inadequacy of our pre-
;

Knowledge, 48 quoted in regard to

;
sent existence to satisfy our Desire of
the Importance of Reason to Revela- Knowledge, 192-194.
tion, 112 to show that our Moral
; Magee, (Archbishop,) quoted his refu-
judgments are factitious, a theory tation of Belsham, i. 387, 888.
maintained in antiquity, 236; his own Magi, (Persian,) their opinion quoted
lifeinconsistent with this opinion, upon the universal Sympathy of na-
252 opposed by Shaftesbury, 253,
; ture, ii. 73.
his theory of our perception of Maintenon, (Madame de,) quoted as to
Right and Wrong, 289 quoted as to ;
Rouchefoucauld, i. 257.
the meaning of Volition, 844; as dis- Malebranche, his doctrine of Causation,
tinguishing Will from Desire, 346, more favourable to theism than the
847; on the meaning of at pleasure, Common, ii. 26; error of his doctrine,
on the meaning of Motive, 849; ib.
on the meaning of Liberty and Power, Malevolent Affections, ace Affections,
860; as asserting the Free-Agency Mandeville, (Dr.,) as a Licentious
-

of man, 3S. {, 416; claimed however theorist in Morals, i. 256, 263-874;

bj S rians, 416: quoted in
to the
— his history and works, 263, 264 that
all Moral sentiments are the result of
;

ird incomprehensibility of
 INDEX. 401

Education, 264; holds that Vanity is produced and continued by

Mind,
one of the strongest principles of our (Intelligences, connected with the
nature, 264, seq.; avails himself of particles of Matter,) 374-378 history ;

the ambiguity of language, 268, seq.; of this opinion according to Mau-

on his maxim " that private vices are pertuis, 374, seq.; sixth hypothesis,
public benefits," 270 his inconsist- ; Automatism, the universe a Divine
encies, 270, aeq. ; his Moral theory a machine, formed and set in motion by
mere satire upon human nature, 272, the Deity, 378, 379; all these less
seq. ; opposed to Rochefoucauld, 272. likely than the opinion of the cease-
Maniclueism, as one of three theories to less agency of one supreme mind, i.
account for the Origin of Evil, i. 62 50 ; ii. 30 is incapable of acting ex-
;

ii. 129, 130 ; —

inconsistent with the
;

cept so far as it is acted upon, 354.

Unity of Design apparent in the uni- Maupertuis, adduced as hostile to the
verse, and declared " unsuitable to speculation of Final Causes in our phi-
the phamomena," even by Hume, losophical inquiries, ii. 94 quoted as ;

ii. 130. to Repentance or Remorse being

Marmontel, quoted as to the Maternal more allied to pleasure than to pain,
Affection, i. 173. 135 holds the Preponderance of
;

Marsden, quoted as to manifestations misery over happiness, 142, 143 this ;

of Design in the universe, ii. 75, 76 ;

opinion controverted, 143 quoted as ;

as to the Proportion of the Sexes at to the universe of Matter being ani-

birth in Sumatra, 381. mated by Intelligence, 374-378.
Martial, his epigram of Arria and Pietus, Maximus, (Tyrius,) quoted as to the
quoted, i. 407. Common Consent of mankind for the
Mason, quoted as to Druidical belief in existence of God, ii. 86.
a Future State, ii. 210. Mecasnas, his prayer quoted, ii. 181,
Materialism doctrine of, i. 50; favoured
: 182.
by the language of the Newtonians, Meiners, adduced in regard to the
50 ii. 371 history and conditions of
; ;
authorship of the treatise De Mundo,
the theory as one of the six hypo- ii. 34.
theses to account for the Activity of Melanchthon, his avowal quoted, that
Matter, 50; ii. 369-373; not false the Natural Revelation by " Common
only, but absurd, 70 ii. 163 theory ; ; Sense and the Judgment of Nature,"
of, by Priestley, 353, 354 ii. 174 ; is not less imperative than the posi-
;

this Materialism may originate a tive, that of Scripture, i. 112.

Free-Agent, 354 what confers on ; — Melmoth, (William,) quoted as to a
Materialism its plausibility, ii. 164, dunce being the severest, and a man
165 the common modes of speaking
;
of genius the most indulgent, critic,
of mankind in this respect considered, ii. 253.
170 materialists subtilize the think
;
Mendelsohn, (Moses,) adduced in refer-
ing piinciple, and thus afford an ence to Hume's scepticism about
argument against themselves, U). Cause and Effect, ii. 108, 109.
examined and well refuted by Clarke, Merit and Demerit, distinction of, a
371. Moral perception, which determines a
Matter, six hypotheses to account for its Moral emotion, i. 24, 32, 313-317.
Activity, i. 50, 51 ii. (Note A) 369- ; Milton, quoted as to the Pleasure of Re-
379 —
first hypothesis, Materialism,
; pose, i. 130 adduced as to the love
;

involving, 1° a Vacuum, 2° Atoms, of Fame, 150; quoted as to smiles

3°- the Gravity of Atoms, ii. 369-373 flowing from reason, 336 as to the ;

second hypothesis, Ilylozoism, Ac- Free-Agency of Man, and the Fore-

tive powers naturally bestowed on knowledge of God, 401 as to the ; —
Matter at its first formation, (Matter Natural Belief in the existence of a.

inspirited,) 373 third hypothesis, ; God, 6; in favour of the supposi-

ii.

Occasionalism, Matter actuated by tion that the future may not be wholly
General Laws imposed by the Deity, different in kind, from the present
373, 374; fourth hypothesis, Plastic life, 203 in regard to our Sympathy
;

Medium, Matter moved by an unin- with Vernal Nature, 315.

telligent nature, 374 fifth hvpo- ; Mind, (Philosophy of the Human,)
esis, Animism, Matter, its motion touching the research of Final Cnusen

VOL. VII. 2
402 INDEX.

in, 101, sey. ; wo naturally conceive

ii. called in question, and by whom,
Mind as moving, Body as moved, i. 31.
the one as naturally Active, the other Moral Faculty on, in general, i. 20 36,
:

as naturally Passive, 168. 219-274; an original principle, 20,

Misanthropy, may be connected with se/., 219, seq., 233, seq. ; not resolv-
benevolence, i. 337, 338; ii. 309, able into a regard for our happiness,
seq.; afforded to Moliere and Mar- 20, seq., 219, seq., 223; corresponds
montel, a fine subject, 338. with the ITonestum of the Romans,
Misery and Happiness, Proportion of, in with the KaAoy of the Greeks, with
the world, ii. 126, 142-156. the Reasonable of modern philoso-
Mitford, (Mr.,) on Assassination in the phers, 21, 220, seq.; called otherwise
early ages of Greece, i. 244. the Sense of Duty, 20, 21, seq.; not
Moliere, his Misanthrope adduced, i. the result of Education or Associa-
338 ii. 309 ;— quoted as to the
; tion, 22, 264, seq.; as it is the appre-
Preponderance of Moral Good, ii. hension of Right and Wrong, it
147. differs from a regard to our own hap-
Monhoddo, (James Bumet, Lord,) at- piness, 222 how connected with our
;

tempted to revive the ancient theory pleasure from fictitious representa-

of Mind in explanation of the appar- tions, 222, seq. ; connexion of Virtue
ent Activity of Matter, ii. 374 op- ; and Happiness, 223, seq.; this not
poses Newton, 377. limited to individuals, but extends to
Moncreiff, (Rev. Sir Henry,) quoted as to nations, 224, seq.; inconsistent with
Jonathan Edwards, i. 393 his state- ; the Selfish theory of Morals, 227, seq.;
ments combated, ib. Palcy refuted, 228-232 objection to
;

Monotheism or Polytheism, which his- the originality of the Moral Faculty

torically prior, ii. 78-83 the former ; drawn from the diversity of opinion
prior, held by Ferguson, Sir Isaac in regard to the Morality of particular
Newton, and Sir William Jones, 78, actions, considered, 233, seq. ; power
79; the latter prior, held by Hume, of Education in regard to our Moral
79 in Antiquity, Polytheism preva-
; judgments, 234; power of Fashion in
lent among
the multitude, ib.; Mono- the same respect, 234, seq. ; our
theism prevalent among the learned ;
Moral judgments in general not fac-
examples, Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, titious,235, seq. ; three circumstances
Virgil, Servius, Horace, Lucan, 80, particularly to be attended to in the
se>/. explanation of the Moral anomalies of
Montaigne, his complaints of his me- human judgment, to wit, 1° the di-
mory, prove only that he paid little versity of physical conditions: 2°- the
attention to things external, i. 118, diversity of speculative opinions ;

119 referred to as arguing like Locko

;
3°- the different moral import of the

against Innate Moral principles, 236 ;

same action under different circum-
quoted regard to Posthumous Re-
in stances of external behaviour, 237-
putation, 405; —
in regard to the effect 251 Moral sentiments the mere re-
;

of Custom upon Happiness, ii. 336, sult of Education controverted, 264,

337 that we ought not to be the
; seq.
slaves of Habit, even though good, Moral Government of the Deity, see
Government,
Montesquieu, adduced as to Rochefou- Moral Obligation, on what is it founded,
cauld, i. 258 quoted in praise of the
; i. 34, seq., 318-326.
Stoii i, ii 803 referred to as to the
; Moral Perceptions and Emotions, i. 24,
connexion of Politics and Ethics, teg.,276-317.
366. Moral Sense: according to Hutcheson, i.
Moral and A.Otive Powers distinguished 26, 290, .-"/., 293, teg.; according to
our Intellectual, i.
mi 17, 118. 1 Hume, 291, 292; sceptical conclu-
Moral Attributes of the Deity, n ii sions from, 27, seq. ; the term Sense
tribute-. may be defended, 28, 295, '-".'7 -—ac-
Moral Beauty and Deformity, corre- cording to Adam Smith, of I

sponding to Right and Wrong, i. 31, origin, 246,

ii. seq.; equivalent to
Conscience, but not so good a term,
Moral Distinctions, Immutability of, •JIT
 ;; ;;;

INDEX. 403

Moral state of mind, involves, 1°- tlio ib. ; according to Bolingbroke, cannot
perception of an action as Eight or be affirmed without lying, or belying
Wrong 2°- an emotion of Pleasure or
; consciousness, 340 problem of, and ;

of Pain varying in intensity according of Free- Agency, 42, 343-402 as ;

to the acuteness of our moral sensi- maintained by Collins, 348, 350, 368,
bility 3°- a perception of the Merit
; 373, seq., 390, 397; by Priestley,
or Demerit of the agent, i. 280. 348, 350, 353, seq., 360, 375, 379,
More, (Dr. Henry,) has an argument for 386 by Hobbes, 349, 350, 359-365
;

the existence of God a priori, sub- by Edwards, 350, 360, 368, 375, seq.,
stantially the same with that of New- 392, 397 by Hartley, 350, 375, 385;
;

ton and Clarke, ii. 8 resolved all ; by Spinoza, 357 by the Hindoos, ;

Virtue into Benevolence, 228. 358 by Voltaire, 358, 359 by Leib-

; ;

Moschus, original author of the theory nitz, 360, 365-372 by 'SGravesande, ;

of Materialism, ii. 369. 360 by Bonnet, 360, 377 by Bel-

; ;

Moses, quoted touching Usury, i. 240, sham, 363, 364, 379, 386, 387, 397
241. by Plume, 368 by Grimm, 378 by ; ;

Motion what moves is naturally be-

; Diderot, ib. ; by Karnes, 380; by
lieved animated, i. 200, seq.; ii. Galiani, 380, 381 by Laplace, 387 ; ;

370. common argument for, 355-359 runs ;

Motive, an ambiguous term on the : into absolute Spinozism, 357, 392,

meanings of, i. 349 should be said , 393 ;
how connected with
358 piety, ;

to influence the Agent not the Will, Liberty from Necessity, the same as
349, 353 strength of Motives, am-
; Moral Liberty, and the only sense in
biguity of the expression, 351 Mo- ; which Liberty should be used in the
tives necessarily determine the Will, problem regarding Free-will, 362, 364
ambiguity of the expression, ib. the distinction between Physical and
Motive and Action not the same as Moral Necessity frivolous, 365 only ;

Cause and Effect, 352, seq., 370 one kind of Necessity possible, 365,
every action is performed with some 379 scheme of, supposes Conscious-
;

view or Motive, 355, seq., 370 the ; ness to be fallacious, 379, 380 such ;

merit of every action depends upon deceit, however, maintained, among

its Motive, 356 liow do Motives de-
; others, by Karnes, 380 this deceitful ;

termine the Will, the great ques- sense of liberty excited general opposi-
tion ? ib. ; stated according to the Ne- tion, 381 was ultimately abandoned
;

cessitarians, 356, seq. ; if this were by Karnes, 382 even Bolingbroke ad-
;

true, every act and event would be mits that Consciousness is in opposi-
necessary, Man and God equally tion to Fatalism, 382 scheme of ;

without Liberty, and an absolute Necessity maintained by its advocates

Spinozism established, 357. to abate all resentment against men,
Mundo, De, on the authorship of the 380 resemblance between late French
;

treatise, ii. 34, (Note B,) 379, 380. Necessitarian creed and the opinions
Muschenbroek, adduced as to Adapta- of Hartley and Belsham, 380; contrast
tion and Design, ii. 65. of Ancient and Modern Necessita-
rians, 384, 385 inconsistent with ;

the doctrine of a future Retribution,

Narrayxa, Hymn to, quoted, ii. 34. abolishes Moral Evil on the part of
Nature " Nature never acts in vain ;"
: man, and subverts the Moral attri-
" always acts by the simplest and the butes of God, 389 an absurdity of, ;

best —
means;" these principles ad- 390 tends to Atheism, 392 indivi-
; ;

mitted by Hume, ii. 50 our expecta- ; dual examples of its evil influence on
tion of the Constancy of its operations, moial practice, 396.
an Instinctive belief, 116; same held Necker, quoted in regard to Usury, i.
by Prevost and L'Huillier, 116, 117 242 in regard to Free-Agency, 393
; ;

by Hume, 118; but this founded on

;

— as to an assertion of Atheism not

Experience by Price, ib. being tantamount to a negation of a
Necessity, Moral, (see Free-Agency) ac- ; Future State, ii. 213, 214.
cording to Butler the very basis of Newton, (Sir Isaac,) suggested the proof
infidelity, i. 43 according to Cud-
; a priori of the being of God, i. 45,
worth, the proper root of scepticism, 46, ii. 8 ; — reprehended for his using
404 INDEX.

indifferently the terms Physical and the text on which TJce Philosophy of
Efficient Causes, ii. 28 ; adduced as to the Active and Moral Powers of Man
the priority of Monotheism to Poly- constitutes a comment, 116.
theism, 79 quoted as to Final
;
Ovid, allows Intelligence to the stars,
Causes, 105; adduced for his dislike ii. 375.
of controversy, 252 Newtonian phi-
;

losophy, language of (but language

alone) favourable to Materialism, P^etus and Arria, see Pliny, Martial.
371. Pain, see Emotions.
Niebuhr, (the father,) quoted as to the Paley, distinguishes Prudence from
Proportion of the Sexes at birth in Duty, i. 221; yet one of the Selfish
the East, ii. 381, 382. Moralists, 228 his reasoning to this
;

Nominalists, made the Morality of ac- effect 228, seq. ; the loose-
refuted,
tions depend exclusively upon the ness and sophistry of his reasonings
Divine Law, as historically noticed in regard to the Moral Faculty
by Cudworth, i. 286 modern authors ;
evinced, 230-232 coincides with the
;

who approximate to this opinion, 31, Nominalists in founding Morality

299. upon the express Precept of God,
Nostalgia, of the Laplanders and Swiss, 299, see also 31 quoted on this last
;

i. 184. subject, as surrendering the Moral

Novocastro, (Andreas de,) historically Attributes of God, 300 a superficial ;

mentioned by Cudworth as one of the

Nominalists who founded Morality on
Moralist, 301 ;
—
quoted in regard to
Adaptation and Design, ii. 63, 64 as ;

the positive Precept of God, i. 286. to the benevolence of God shown

most manifestly in the pleasures of
children, 155, 156 ; his Utilitarian
Occasionalism, or of Occasional Causes, scheme of Morals 237 rejected, 233, ;

third of the six hypotheses to ac quoted as to the influence of Habit

count for the Activity of Matter, i. upon Happiness, 335, 336 as to the ;

50; ii. 373, 374. pleasures of repose of old age, 341, —

Occupancy, as constituting Property, ii. 342.
261, seq. Pansetius, on the distinction of the Ho-
Ockham, (William,) noticed by Cud- nestum and Utile, i. 220.
worth as one of the Nominalists who Pantheism arbitrary connexion of piety
;

founded Morality on the Divine Pre- and Pantheism, i. 358.

cept, i. 286. Parr, (Rev. Dr.,) on the authorship of
OEconomical, &c, see Economical. the treatise De Mundo, ii. 34, (Note
Officmm, what its Stoical meaning, i. B,) 379, 380.
220. Pascal, quoted as to Man's greatness
Opinions, influence of, on Happiness, i. and weakness, i. 359 ; in regard to
100 ii. 328-333.
; the Incomprehensibility of God, ii. 7.
Optimism, as one of three theories to Passion, how this word is to be used, i.
account for the Origin of Evil, i. 62, 16, 17.
seq.; ii. 130 133, seq. ; the Optimists Patriotism, Affection of, i. 179-187 ex- ;

are divided into those who admit and citing causes of, 182, seq : Rational,
those who deny the Freedom of hu- 184, seq. ; Instinctive, 18f>.
man actions, 63 ii. 131 ; these ; — Pelissou, adduced in exemplification of
(hisses to be carefully distinguished, our natural love of Society, i. 1 41.
ii. 131, $eq. Peripatetics, their opinion as to the
Origan, did he allow the stars a Soul ? Sovereign Good, that it consisted in
ii. 375. the Exercise of Virtue in a Prosper-
Otaheite its inhabitants,
; anomaly of ous life, i. 96 ii. 304. 306.
;

their morality and religion, ii. 209, Persiflage, in relation to Morals, i. 261.
210. 262.
Ought, according to Iluteheson, a con- Persius, quoted as to our actual and out
fused word, 381 i ii 147. ; potential character, i. 121 ns to the ;

Outlive* of Moral Philosophy, the. regulated influence of applause, 155;

Author's Manuel of Ethics, what its — as to Final Causes, ii. 106 on the ;

purport, i. 118; Part IT. of this book, unitv of faith and morals, 209.
 INDEX. 405

Petronius, q noted in regard to Happi- principle of the Sufficient Reason,

ness, ii. 290. 367 ; —
differed from the Author in re-
Pharisees, were- they Fatalists, i. 391, gard to the notion of Causality, ii.
392. 19, 20.
&i\xurix, nearly convertible with Self- Pleasure, Pleases, &c. these ambiguous ;

love, i. 213, seq. expressions explained, i. 348 Plea- ; —

Philo, did he allow the stars a Soul ? ii. sure the concomitant of Activity, ii.
375. 138, seq., 143. See Emotions.
Philosophy of the Active and Moral Pleasures, l 0, of Activity and Repose;
Powers of Man, this work to be con- 2°- of Sense 3° of Imagination
;
4°- ;

sidered as a comment on Part II. of of the Understanding 5°- of the ;

The Outlines, &c, i. 116. Heart, i. 102 ii. 339 350.

;

Phocylides, quoted as to the diversity of Pliny, (the elder,) his " Flens animal,
opinions in regard to the morality of ceteris imperaturum," quoted, ii.
particular actions, i. 249, 250. 137.
Pierre, (Bernardine de St.,) adduced as Pliny, (the younger,) quoted as to the
to Adaptation and Design, ii. 70 ; independence of Virtue upon opinion,
quoted as to the belief in a Future i. 154 in connexion with this his
;

State, 218. commemoration of the action of Arria

Pindar, quoted in regard to the conso- and Paetus quoted, 407.
latory hope of Immortality, ii. 184. Plowden, quoted in defence of Usury, i.
Pinto, (Chevalier de,) quoted as to the 242.
notion of Property among the natives Plutarch, referred to in regard to Sylla's
of South America, ii. 268, 269. anticipation of Caesar, i. 37, 153 ;

Pity, Affection of, i 188-197 an Instinc- ; quoted as to a saying of Pythagoras

tive, not a Moral affection, 190, seq.; (attributed also to Epictetus) in re-
Rational or Moral, 191, seq. ; prover- gard to the power of Custom, 102 ;

bial connexion of, with Moral good- ii. 334 as to the appreciation of real
;

ness, 191 explanations of, by the

; Virtue, 259 ; —
to prove the prevalence
philosophers who resolve everything of Monotheism among the learned of
into Self-love, 191, seq. ; phenomena antiquity, ii. 81, 82 on the Universal ;

manifested in this affection, 192. Consent of mankind to the existence

Plastic Medium, fourth of the six theories of a Deity, 86 in regard to the
;

to account for the apparent Activity theory of the Manichaeans, 129 as to ;

of Matter, 374.i. 50; ii. the supreme importance of Religion,

Plato, quoted as to Moral Obligation, i. 225; as to the definition of Virtue,
35, 319 ; adduced historically by Cud- 356.
worth, for a certain theory of Mo- Political, class of Duties so called, i. 90 ;

rality, 284; his statement of the ii. 282.

doctrine of Protagoras, that " man is Politics, their connexion with Ethics, ii.

the measure of all things," 293 ;

365, 366.
against a Moral Sense, 298 as to ; Polytheism or Monotheism, which his-
Reason in Morals, 322 quoted for ;
— torically prior, ii. 78-83 ;
for details,
the opinion of Socrates in regard to see Monotheism.
Final Causes, ii. 104, 105 in regard ; Pope, quoted as to the disinterested love
to the doctrine of Pre-existence, in of Society, i. 130 as to the nothing-
:

explanation of the Origin of Evil, ness of Fame, 148 quoted his cha- ;

126 -128 as to Virtue being a Science,

;
racter of the Duke of Wharton, in
150 ;in regard to the consolatory illustration of a systematic steadiness
hope of Immortality, 184; adduced of apparently inconstant and incon-
as to the religious boldness (resigna- sistent conduct, 211 on a saying of ;

tion) of Socrates, 224 quoted in re- Rochefoucauld, 258 as to the mean- ;

—
;

gard to the high importance of Reli- ing of at will, 348 as to God and the
;

gion, 224, 225 on the nature of; Universe, ii. 33; these verses not
Virtue, 352; referred to as to the Spinozistic, 34 quoted (ter) as to
;

connexion of Politics and Ethics, 365. Optimism, 132, 133; as to the Pre-
Playl'air, (Prof.,) adduced in regard to ponderance of Moral Good, 147, 148 ;

the friendship between Black and as to the impossibility of our reason-

Hutton, i. 177 in reference to the
;
ing but from what we know, 200 ;
 ;; —

406 ENDEX.

as to ReBi'gnation to divine power, of Probabilities,

ii. 116-118; resolve
224. our expectation of the Constancy of
Potter, St. Paul's simile of, in illustra- nature into a Natural belief or In-
tion of the scheme of Necessity, i. stinct, 116, 117.
377 Price, (Dr. Richard,) his doctrine in re-
Power, Necessary Connexion or Effi- gard to the nature and origin of
ciency, see Causation how do we ; Moral distinctions, i. 27-29 like ;

acquire this notion ? i. 47-49, 347 Cudworth, founds them in the Intel-
ii. 15, seq. lect or Reason, 28, 294 advances, ;

Power, the Desire of, i. 8-10, 156-160 ;

the Author holds, in too unqualified
how subsidiary to the Desire of Know- a form, the axiom " every change re-
ledge, 9 how the foundation of our
;
quires a cause," 352 —
tinfortunate in
;

love of Property, 9, 158; of our love his attempt to improve Clarke's a

of Liberty, 9, 159 and of the plea-
; priori argument, ii. 8, 10 this modi- ;

sure of Virtue, 10, 159; how far fication not even new, 9 admits that
;

identical with the pleasure of Acti- we do not perceive Causation, but

vity 156; how first introduced into holds that Causality is a Native prin-
the mind, a puzzling question, ib. ciple ofmind, 19 quoted as conform-
;

how this desire is gratified by the able with Condorcet's principle in his
possession of wealth, eloquence, ad- doctrine of Probabilities, 118; as to
dress, rank, &c, 157 so also, in ; the Criterion of Virtuous actions,
part, our discoveries in science con- 360 as to the Proportion of the Sexes
;

tribute to its gratification, 157, 158 ;

born, 381.
hence Bacon's favourite maxim, Pride, as an influential principle, accord-
"Knowledge is Power," 158; con- ing to Mandeville, is properly Vanity,
nexion of Avarice with this desire, i. 268.
ib. ; connected with the love of Re- Priestley, (Dr. Joseph,) one of the Self-
tirement and Tranquillity, 159. ish Moralists, i. 228 loose meaning
;

Practical doctrines of Morality, i. 277 ;

of the terms, Desire, Wish, Volition,
how is the Practice opposed to the &c., 348 ;surrendered the doctrine of
Theory of Morals, ib. ; Practical Free-will with reluctance, 350 his ;

principles by whom argued not to be theory of Materialism, 353, 354; ii.

Innate, 235, 236. 174; Priestley and his followers dif-
Practice, schemes of Free-will and Ne- fer in the spirit of their scheme of
cessity, as influencing, i. 390-396. Necessity from Collins and Edwards,
Predestination and Free-will seemingly 373, se/.; adduced as to the influence
conflictive, i. 344, 395, 402. of Speculation upon practice, 395 ;

Pre-existence, as one of the three quoted as to Final Causes, ii. 101 ;

theories to account for the Origin of adduced as to the common apprehen-

Evil, i. 62 ii. 126-129 —its history
; sion of mankind in regard to Mate-
as given by Tlato, ii. 126-128. rialism, 170.
Prescience, Divine, on the argument for Printing, art of, may have been sug-
the scheme of Necessity drawn from, gested by a passage of Cicero, ii.
i. 396-402 a refutation held by the
; 45.
Author to be beyond the reach of our Probabilities, on the Calculus of, in re-
faculties, 396 but by other philoso-
; ference to the argument for the exist-
phers, as Clarke, Reid, &c, on this ence of God, from Final Causes, ii.
ground the reasonings for Necessity 108-119; under the doctrine of, are
nave been combated, ib. ; this reason- commonly confounded two very dif-
ing, in no far as it is logical, would ferent things: 1°- the Mathematical
make tbe Deity a Necessary agent, theory of Chances 2°- the Inductive
;

397 some philosophers have, now-

; anticipation of future events deduced
over, supposed that Free or contingent from observations on the past course
actions mav not be foreseen, even by of nature, 115, seq.
Cod, 401. Propensities, (Implanted,) see Instinc-
Press, liberty of, salutary restrictions tive Principles of Action comprise ;

on, ii. 279. Appetites, Desires, Affections, i. 4.

Prerott, (andL'Huillicr,) quoted against Property, right of, ii. 260-273 as con- ;

Condoropt in regard to the doctrine stituted by Occupancy, 261, *«7- ; has

 INDEX. 407

its origin from two distinct sources, of Vanity, 209 was Alcibiades only
;

271, seq.; we must distinguish the vain ? ib. ; another respect in which
right of Property as recognised by the the rational nature differs from the
law of nature, and as created by animal is, that it is able to form a
municipal institutions, 272, 273. notion" of Happiness, or what is good
Protagoras, that everything is relative for it, upon the whole, and to follow
to the percipient, and that Eight or this out systematically, 212.
Wrong depend on us, in so far con- Ray, quoted as to Design in nature, ii.
formable with Hume, i. 293. 53, 54 adduced to the same purport,
;

Prudence, distinguished from Duty, i. 67.

221. Raynal, (Abbe,) holds that savages
Psellus, (Michael,) quoted as to the Per- believe whatever they see in motion,
sian Magi, ii. 73. without being able to account for it,
Pufendorff, adduced on the Occupancy to be actuated by a soul, ii. 370.
as originating the right of Property, Reason, (Intellect,) as the source of our
ii. 262. Moral perceptions, according to Cud-
Pythagoras, on the influence of Custom, worth, i. 25, 296, seq. ; the term
i. 202. ambiguous and requires limitation,
Pythagoreans: Pythagorean (or Pseudo- 29, 30 may be the source of Simplo
;

Pythagorean) definitions of Virtue, Ideas, as of Identity, Causation,

i. 105, 322 ii. 353, 354
;
their Frag- ;
Equality, therefore of Right and
ments all spurious, 105, 322 ii. 304, ; "Wrong, 30 use of, in the practice of
;

353 one of these Fragments is

; Morality, 107, 296 ii. 361-366. ;

against the originality of Moral dis- Reason, (the Sufficient,) see Sufficient
tinctions, 236 ; their doctrine as to Reason.
Reason in Morals, 322 ; —
their notions Rectitude, distinction of, as Absolute
of the Sovereign Good, ii. 304. and Relative, as Material and Formal,
ii. 358, seq.
Reid quoted as to the Benevolent and
:

Quakers, instanced for the good effects Malevolent Affections, i. 16 referred ;

of their education in subduing passion to as noticing that the controversy in

by a restraint of its manifestations, ii. regard to Free-will and Necessity has
313. been industriously darkened by all
Quesnai, quoted as to Final Causes in the powers of sophistry, 43 quoted ;

Political Economy, ii. 106, 107. as to the incomprehensibility of the

Questions which every reflective being theological argument a priori, 46; ii.
asks of himself, ii. 4, 5. 8 holds that the argument for a
;

Quintilian, quoted as to the power of God from Final Causes constitutes a

Custom upon Happiness, i. 102 ii. ; certain kind of syllogism, 52 calls ;

337 ; —
as to the advantage of striving the principle of Veracity the principle
after what we may not realize, ii. 299. of Credulity, 88 ii. 280 his distri-
; ;

bution of the Active Powers, 125

how his works arc referred to and
Ramsay, (Chevalier,) his epitome of quoted, 160; his doctrine in regard
Plato quoted in regard to the doctrine to Emulation or the desire of su-
of Pre-existence and the Origin of periority controverted, 160, 161 dis- ;

Evil, ii. 126-128 also for Plutarch's

;
tinguishes, however, Emulation from
account of Manichceism as a second Envy, 161 quoted as to the Affec-
;

theory for the Origin of Evil, 129. tion of Kindred, 173; erroneously
Rational and Governing principles of comprises Emulation in the Malevo-
action, two, to wit, Self-love and the lent Affections, 197, 202 coincides ;

Moral Faculty, i. 17-36, 207-402 these ;

with the Author in holding a momen-
moral principles distinguished from tary belief that the object of Instinc-
the merely active principles, 207 ;
tive Resentment is alive, 200, 201 ;

man alone possessed of the former, quoted as to the pleasure arising from
207,208; he alone is self-governing, our Benevolent Affections, 205 as ;

but this self-government can be de- to the Honour, 221

signification of ;

graded to a subservience in the lower as to the. connexion of Virtue and

tendencies, 208 exception in the caso
;
Happiness, 224 as to the perception;
408 INDEX.

of Right and Wrong, 288 as to the ; respectively agreeable and disagree-

meaning of Volition, 345, 346 de- ; able emotions they determine, that is,
nies (the author thinks erroneously) the emotions of Moral Beauty and
that every action is performed from Deformity, 31, 32, 301-313 am- ;

some Motive, 355, 356; the — holds biguous terms, 106; ii. 357, seq.;
principle of Causality to be Original right and wrong, ought and ought not,
or native, ii. 18 to bo a Necessary
; express Simple Ideas, 331, seq.; ii.
truth, that is, which we cannot but 245, seq. —
what is Right is perspicu-
think, 22 shews that Experience
; ous the Useful is obscure, ii. 232.
;

cannot be the source of Necessary Rights, division of, in the Roman Law,
truths, that is, truths which cannot ii. 259.

but be, 22, 23, 46 criticism of his ; Robertson, (Principal,) quoted as to the
expression, " chain of natural causes," Desire of Vengeance in savages, i.
25 on the Peripatetic, distribution
; 15, 16; as to the love of intoxicating
of Causes into four Kinds, 42 is he ; excitation in savages, 128 as to In- ;

right in supposing that this distinc- btinctive Resentment, 199 in regard ;

tion is arbitrary ? 42, 43 holds that ; to the opinions of the Scots touching
our belief in Testimony is a Natural Assassination, some three centuries
propension, 280; quoted on the na- ago, 244, 245 as to religious Fatal- ;

ture of Virtue, 353, 354; as to the ism, 399 — as

to Adaptation and De-
;

Criterion of Virtuous actions, 360, sign, 66 as to the Universal

ii. ;

361. Belief in a Future State, 211 as to ;

Religion, not the so ^ foundation of

1
the notion of Property among tho
Morality, ii. 220. American savages, 267, 268.
Religion, Natural, a Preliminary inquiry Rochefoucauld, (Due de,) quoted as to
into the principles of, determined, i. Hypocrisy, i. 23: as to the influence
45-75; ii. 4-218. of the Affections, 120; as to Friend-
Remorse, a fallacious feeling, according ship, 178, 179 as a Licentious ;

to Belsham, Kames, &c, L 379, 380, theorist in Morals, 256 his private ;

400 ; —
as furnishing an argument for character opposed to his theoretical
Immortality, ii. 185, 186. opinions 256, 257 tendency of his
; ;

Rennel, (Rev. Dr.,) his eulogy of Aris- Maxims, 258-263 their influence ;

totle's Ethics, quoted, ii. 356. upon the style of French composition,
Resentment, the radical Malevolent 261.
Affection, i. 15,197, seq.; Instinctive Roman, see Ancient, &c
or Deliberate, 15, 198, seq. ; ii. 307, Roman Law, inconveniences resulting
seq- ; on, in general, 197-206 in ; from its too exclusive study, ii. 258,
Instinctive Resentment, is there a 259.
momentary belief that the object is Romilly, (Sir Samuel,) lauded and ad-
alive? 200, seq.; seen. 370; Deliberate duced against Paley's Moral theory,
Resentment, (Nemesis,) its nature, H. 239.
202, seq. Royer-Collard, (M.) noticed, i. 115.
Rctz, (Cardinal de,) adduced as to
Rochefoucauld, i. 257.
Reynolds, (Sir Joshua,) referred to in SaudttcssS, were thev Libertarians? i.

regard to the principles Co-operating 391.

with our Moral powers, i 36 in re- ; Sallust, his character of Catiline indi-
gard tn the meaning of different cates the insanity of its subject i

248. 211 ;
—
quoted as making God the Re-
tributor of virtue and vice, ii. 221,
Richelieu, adduced for his envy of
Corneille, ii. 248. Sauvages, adduced as to Nostalgia, i.
Ridiculous, sense of the, as Co-operating 184.
with our Moral Towers, i. 39, seq., Sceptics, the Ancient, opposed to the
peculiar to man, 40 ; its Modem, ii. 43 ; to Hume in particular,

importance in educatiou, il) 49.

Right and Wrong In conduct, discrimi- Scepticism, philosophers less exposed to,
by the Moral Faculty, i. 21,
I in proportion, as their views are less
B01 ; ii. 245; Moral per- partial, and Metaphysical speculators
ception, 2 1 *<•<- M si Faculty, ths safer from, than mere Physical ob
 — ;

INDEX. 409

servers, 214; sceptical philosophers

ii. lofty than we may be able to accom-
in general paradoxical and sophistical, plish, 299.
215; evil influence of on our own Hap- Sense; if we call the faculty of Simple
piness, as a desponding imagination, Notions a Sense, we shall have many
320, seq. Senses besides the Moral Sense, ii.
Scotland certain Scottish Divines have
: 246 ;
pleasures of, 345, 346.
disparaged the evidences of Natural Sensibility, dependence of on Imagina-
Religion, i. 112 moral judgment of ; tion, ii. 322, seq.
the Scots touching Assassination some Servius, notices that Virgil is not very
three centuries ago, 244 Confession ; consistent in his doctrine of Fate, i.
of the Scottish Church explicitly in —
401; quoted in proof of the pre-
favour of Free-Agency, 402 many ; valence of Monotheism among the
Scottish Divines ignorant of this, sup- thinkers of antiquity, ii. 83.
posing the Calvinistic doctrine of the Sexes, Proportion of, at Birth, ii. (Note
Absolute Decrees to be of itself an C,) 380-382.
assertion of Fatalism, ib. 'SGravesande, see Gravesande.
Secondary Desires, see Desires. Shaftesbury, referred to as to the Desire
Self-love, orDesire of Happiness, on, i. of Society, i. 139; as to Patriotism,
17-20; a Rational principle, 17 dis- ; 180 quoted as to the Comparative
;

tinguished from Selfishness, 19, 20, happiness of a man Systematically

214-218; duty of, 92, 207-218; ii. bad, 209, 210; against the doctrine
284-286. of Morality held by Hobbes and
Selfish theory of Morals refuted, i. 227, Locke, 252-254 praises Locke's
;

seq. ; among the Selfish Moralists Essay, 255 opposes the Moral Theory
;

are Law, Hartley, Priestley, Paley, of Hobbes, 281, 282 quoted as op-
—
;

Abraham Tucker, 228 such also ; posing those who found Morality
beside Paley, are Hume and Godwin, upon the Divine Precept alone, 299 ;

ii. 237, 238. referred to as to Moral Beauty and

_

Selfishness, distinguished from Self-love, Deformity, 304, seq. ; quoted as to our

i. 19, 20, 214-218. Moral judgments, 324 his fiction of
;

Seneca, quoted as to the Desire of So- a demon, genius, or angel, the supreme
ciety, i. 6 as to our Duties to the
;
judge of our Moral actions, 332
Deity, 45 as to nature placing every-
; — quoted as to the different degrees of
thing important to us within our reach, belief in the truths of Natural Re-
46 as to the powers of resistance
;
ligion, ii. 123, 124; in reference to
conceded to men against physical the Benevolence of God, 125; in re-
evils, 66 as to knowledge being only
;
gard to the blessings of G ood-Humour,
agreeable if communicated, 134; as 316; as to the necessity of virtuous
to the contrast of Reason and Im- actions being performed from a right
pulse, 208 as to the influence of
; Motive, 360.
authority and fashion on our moral Shakspeare, quoted touching Usury, i.
judgments from the case of Cato, —
240; in illustration of a hopeless
235 as exhibiting in Cato an in-
; Misanthropy, ii. 315; in illustration
stance of the Morally Sublime, 303 ; of the ambiguity in the terms Virtue
on the fourfold distinction of Causes and Vice, Right and Wrong, 358.
by Aristotle, ii. 42 to prove the pre- ;
Sharpe, (Dr. Gregory,) the authority
valence of Monotheism among Roman for an ingenious Arabian 6tory rela-
thinkers, 81 on the weight of the
;
tive to Fate, i. 399.
Common Consent of mankind in re- Sheridan, adduced from his School for
gard to the existence of a Deity, 85, Scandal, i. 324.
86 on the effect of Custom in ren-
;
Signs, arbitrary, the same in different
dering objects naturally disagreeable, countries do not express the same
pleasing, 153 referred to as arguing
;
Moral ideas, i. 248.
for a Future Life from the analogy of Simplicius, did he allow the stars a Sen-
the birth of the Foetus, 178 as show- : sitive Soul ? ii. 375.
ing that our present life is inadequate Smellie, (or Buffon,) quoted as to the
to our faculties and capacities, 191 ;
love of Society in children, i. 135.
adduced as to Epicurus, 289, {bis;) Smith, (Dr. Adam,) his opinion in re-
in favour of aiming at what is more gard to the foundation of our Moral
410 INDEX.

Judgments, i. 35, 36 on his reduction

; supposes a corresponding Adaptation
of all the phaenomena of Moral per- of the animal frame, 140; not deter-
ception to Sympathy, 39, 329, seq., mined by Utility, 142.
407, seq.quoted as to the theories
; Socrates, quoted on the Beauty of Vir-
touching the Sovereign Good, 94, tue, i. 313 —
against our apprehension
;

seq. ; as to the illusion of a Desire of of Causal Necessity, (like Hume,) ii.

Posthumous Fame, 146 as to Envy, ; 13 ; as to the proof from Final Causes
164 that Friendship is a sympathetic
; for the existence of God, 36-41 as to ;

affection, 176; adduced in regard to the nature of Final Causes, 104, 105;
Patriotism. 181 his doctrine in re-
; his inflexible integrity on religious
gard to Pity, 192-197 received from ; grounds, 223, 224 ; holds the para-
Butler important hints for his Moral mount importance of Religion, 2?5 ;

theory of Sympathy, 193, 412, 413; instanced for the good effect of re-
holds that the Affection of Resent- straining the external manifestations
ment originates in our sense of Jus- of passion, 313 quoted as to the con-
;

tice, 204; referred to in regard to the nexion of Politics and Ethics, 365, 366.
origin of Infanticide in certain nations, South, (Rev. Dr.,) on the meaning of
236 on the expression, Licentious
; velleity, i. 348.
Systems of Morals, 256 ; on Roche- Sovereign Good, (see Happiness,) three
foucauld, ib. ; quoted on Mandeville's theories touching, to wit, of the Epi-
abusing the ambiguities of language, cureans, of the Stoics, of the Peripa-
268, seq. ; adduced as holding that tetics, (and Pythagoreans,) i. 94-96 ;

our Moral judgments are only a ii. 286-305.

secondary application of the rules by Sparman, quoted as to the Moral judg-

which we primarily judge others, ments of the Hottentots, i. 250, 251.
316 quoted on Moral Obligation,
;
Speculative opinions, difference of, de-
323, 324 his abstract man the
; termines a difference in Moral judg-
supreme judge of all our actions, 332 ;
ments, i. 245, 246.
on his theory of Morals, (Note C,) Spence, on Pope and Rochefoucauld, i.
—
407-415; quoted as to Final, which
he carefully discriminates from Effi-
258.
#

Spinozism often rashly and erroneously

:

cient, Causes, ii. 102, 103 on these ; imputed, ii. 33, 34 this mode of Athe- ;

in Political Economy, 107 referred ; ism is the legitimate result of the

to touching a Future State, 200; says scheme of Necessity, 357, 392, 393.
that the term Moral Sense is of re- Spontaneity, Liberty of, as contrasted
cent origin, 246, seq. ; founds the with the Liberty from Necessity,
right of Property on the Sympathy of adopted by Hobbes and by all Neces-
mankind, with the expectation of the sitarians, i. 360, 391 an unsound ;

Occupant to enjoy the object, 263 ;

definition of Moral Liberty, in fact,
held (at least latterly) that our re- comprising Necessity, 361, 364.
liance on human Testimony is a Stael, (Madame de,) quoted as to our
Natural disposition, 280; quoted as conduct in Political emergencies, ii.
to Epicurus, 289, 293; as to the 314.
Stoical philosophy, 296-298, 300-302 ;
Statins, allows the stars to be Intelli-
referred to as to the connexion of gent, ii. 375.
Politic! and Ethics, 366« Sterne, quoted as to the danger from a
Smith, (Mr. John, of Cambridge,) quot- popular infidelity, ii. '223.
ed in regard to the soul's Immortality, Stevinus. happily applies the principle
ii. 169, 170; resolved all Virtue into of the Sufficient Reason, i. 367.
Benevolence, 228 Stewart, (Mr. Dugald,) more orthodox
Society, the Desire of, i. 6, 7, 135-142 ;
than most Scottish Divines teaching
manifest in children, 135; in the the Free-Agency of man. by the
lower animals. 136, 136, 189, 140; a standard of the Westminster Confes-
disinterested affix tion, L87, 138 held . sion itself, i. 402 holds that the Fore-:

to be interested by Hobbes, 137 ;

knowledge by God oi' future Contin-
man always fonnd in a social state, gents is bevond the comprehension of
187, 188 utilities of association, £6.;
J
man, 896, 402 ;— like Reid, confi
beneficent design of this tendency, doubts and difficulties on the Argu-
1'M> the Institutive b've of Society
. ment for God, (i priori, ii. 8.
 INDEX. 411

Stoics, their opinion as to the Sovereign Tacitus, quoted as to the love of exci-
Good, which they placed in Virtue, tation (?), i. 5.
i. 95 ii. 293-303
; some allowed ; Taste, or perception of Beauty and De-
Free-Agency, 392, 400; others did formity, as Co-operating with our
not, 401 —
their paradoxes, ii. 300,
;
Moral powers, i. 40, seq., 337-339
301 the effect of their philosophy con-
; on the Beautiful, in the theory of
trasted with that of the Epicureans, some ancient philosophers, and as
303 in regard to the influence of
;

Imagination upon Happiness, 327

employed by Shaftesbury, 41
sures of, ii. 339.
plea- ;
—
;

did they hold that the Material uni- Tatler, (an author in the,) quoted as to
verse had a Soul ? 374. the effects of different kinds of writ-
Suard, adduced as to Rochefoucauld, i. ings through imagination, ii. 325.
257 —
as to Horace, ii. 33.
; Taylor, (Dr., the Civilian,) quoted on
Suessmilch, (Herr,) adduced on the our perception of Right and Wrong,
Proportion of the Sexes as horn, ii. i. 83, 96, 282, 283.

381. Temper, influence of, on Happiness, i.

Sufficient Reason, (principle of the,) ex- 97, *e7.;ii. 307-317.
plained, i. 365 ambiguous, 367, 37 1
; Terence, his Homo sum, &c, adduced,
constitutes the great argument of i. 325.

Leibnitz for the scheme of Necessity, Testimony, Faith in, a Natural ten-
365-372 inferences from, are often
; dency, ii. 280 ; this held by Reid and
paradoxical, 366 liable to all the ob- ; Adam Smith, ib.
jections which can be brought against Theism : Hume's and
Mi.lcbranche's
Spinozism, ib. ; coincides with the doctrines of Causation, when pro-
common maxim, that " every change perly limited, more favourable to
implies the operation of a Cause" Theism than the supposition of a
368 thus, Reason substituted for
; necessary connexion between events,
Cause, the more for the less ambigu- ii. 25, seq., 27, seq.
ous, 368, 369 the maxim not so ob-
; Theory of Morals, contains two ques-
vious and indisputable when applied tions, l 0, by what principle of our
to the determinations of intelligent contitution do we judge of Moral dis-
and moral agents, as to the changes tinctions ? 2° what is the common
among things inanimate and passive, quality constituting Virtue, is it

368 the principle examined, 369,

; Benevolence, Rational Self-love, or a
372 flaw in the reasoning, 369,
;
disposition to Act Fitly, &c? i. 277.
370. Thomas, his Eloge de Descartes, quoted,
Suidas, records an adage in regard to ii. 166.
Pity, i. 191. Thomson, (the Poet,) quoted on Shaftes-
Summum Bonum, see Sovereign Good. bury, i. 307 ; — as to Adaptation and
Superiority, the Desire of, or Emula- Design, as to a Future State,
ii. 70 ;

tion, on, i. 10, 11, 160-164; this prin- 217; as to Epicurus, 289; as to
ciple classed by Reid as a Malevolent " Philosophic Melancholy," 323, 324.
Affection, 160 this classification ; and Tillotson, quoted as to the love of Vir-
designation controverted, 161. tue, connected with the pleasure of
Superstition, evil influence of, on our Power, i. 159.
Happiness, as a desponding Imagina- Trembley, adduced as to a general Pre-
tion, ii. 320. judice, ii. 87.
Supreme Good, see Sovereign Good. Truth, a conformity to, the criterion of
Swift, on a maxim of Rochefoucauld, i. Right Wrong, according to
and
178. Wollaston, i. 290 truth one, error ;
—
Sydlovius, (Joannes,) historically men- manifold, ii. 212 its nature metaphy- ;

tioned by Cudworth as holding a sically considered, a simple notion,

monstrous theory of Morals, i. 286. 275.
Sympathy, as co-operative with our Truths, arc possessed by us which are
Moral powers, i. 38, seq., 328-333 ;
not derived either from Reasoning or
an ambiguous word, 38 Adam ; from Experience, and yet not illusions,
Smith's reduction to Sympathy of all ii. 46, 47 ; this admitted even by
the phenomena of Moral perception, Hume, 47.
39, 329, seq., (Note C ;) 407, set/. Tucker, (Abraham,) one of the SelnVh
 ;

412 INDEX.

i. 228
Moralists, ingenious but su ; 401 ;
— certain verses of his not Spinoz-
301
perficial, ; —
his reference to Ovid istic, ii. 35; quoted to show the pre-

in regard to the spear of Achilles valence of Monotheism in learned an-

quoted, ii. 59. tiquity, 82, bis; for the utility of com-
Tucker, (Dean,) quoted as to the coin- pulsory Labour, 138 allows Intelli- ;

cidence of prosperous trade and right gence to the stars, 375.

morals, i. 225, seq. Virtue, what is right in conduct, i. 21 ;

Turgot, remark quoted, that bad

his not mere hypocrisy, 23 how Beauti- ;

Laws are the great source of bad ful, 31, 32, 302-313, 339; nature and
Morals, ii. 151 referred to as to the
; essence of, 104 ii. 351-366 differ- ; ;

connexion of Politics and Ethics, 366. ent theories of, 104 definition of, ib.; ;

Tycho Brahe, allowed the stars a Soul, (Pseudo) Pythagorean definition of,
ii. 375. 105, 322 ii. 353, 354
; inconsistent ;

Tyson, (Dr.,) referred to upon Final with Self-Denial, held by Aristotle,

Causes, ii. 100. 105
357.
;

—
general definition^ of, ii. 351-

Virtue and Vice, {see Moral Faculty,)

Understanding, equivalent to the ambiguous terms, i. 106 ii. 357, seq. ;

power of discerning truth in general, Vitruvius, quoted as to a saying of

same as Intellect or Intelligence, i. Aristippus, ii. 48.
296;
tigation,
—pleasures
Generalization,
of, to wit, from Inves-
Discovery,
Volition, an
i. 344, seq.
ambiguous term, defined,

Communication, ii. 347, 348. Volney, quoted as to Adaptation and

Union between Soul and Body, on, i. Design, ii. 66.
71 does the decay of Body infer the
; Voltaire, quoted as to our Moral judg-
mortality of Mind ? ib. ments, i. 239 as to Rochefoucauld, ;

Unity of God, how inferred, i. 54, seq.; 258 ; as to Clarke's refutation of

see God, Monotheism. Collins,376 as to the proof from ; —
Universal Consent, see Consent. Final Causes for the existence of God,
Uprightness, see Integrity. ii. 36 adduced as to Optimism, 132.
;

Usury, see Interest for money. Voluntary, not the same as Free, i. 363.
Utility, not identical with the Moral
Law, i. 220, seq.; Utile and Honestum
discriminated, ib.; Utility in Morals, — Wallis, (Dr. John,) adduced as to
ii. 229, 233-239. Final Causes, ii. 100.
Warburton, quotes anonymously a
French character of Alcibiades, i.

Vacuum, theory of a, ii. 369. 209 quoted as to Locke and Shaftes-

—
;

Vanity, as a principle of action, i. 18, bury, 255 adduced as to the teach-

;

264, seq. ing of the Unity of God in certain

Vega, (Garcilasso de la,) adduced as to mysteries of Polytheism, ii. 222.
Adaptation and Design, ii. 71. Wargentin, (Herr,) adduced as to the
Velleity, an ambiguous term, as defined Proportion of the Sexes as born, ii.
by Johnson, i. 348. 381.
Veracity, as a Duty to Others, i. 87-90 ;
Warton, (Dr. Joseph,) adduced as to
ii. 274-282 a Sense of, admitted by
; Pope and Aristotle, ii. 34; as to
Hutcheson, 87; ii. 274; a Natural Locke's Optimism, 131 as to Pope's ;

fninciple, 88 ii. 277 this called

; ; by Optimism, 132.
teid tno principle of Credulity, 88 ; ii. Westminster Confession, asserts tho
280; Maxims of Honour connected Free-Agency of Man, no less than
with, 90 ii. 277 in relation to edu-
; ; — the Predestination and Prescience of
cation, ii. 281. God, i. 402.
Vice: how Deformed, 31, 32, 302-313; Will, an ambiguous term, defined, i.
"private vices are public benefits," 345-348 distinguished from Desire,
;

on this maxim of Mandeville, i. 270. 346, seq.

Virgil, hil example- of Ascanius quoted Will, Free, see Free Agency.
as to the love of Power, i. 157 Wisdom of God, how inferred, i. 54,
—
;

quoted as to the affection of Kindred, seq. Wisdom not to be confounded

17;"> as to Fate, and Free Agency,
; with Design, ii. 58, seq.
 INDEX. 413

Wisdom of Solomon, referred to touch- 36-41 ;as to the inflexible integrity

ing Happiness, ii. 290. of Socrates on religious grounds, 223 ;

Wollaston, quoted as to the absurdity of as to the paramount importance of

the love of Posthumous Fame, i. 145; Religion, 225 as to the connexion of
;

as to the connexion of Pity with Politics and Ethics, 365, 366.

Moral goodness, 191 his theory in ;

regard to the perception of Right and

Wrong, to wit, its conformity to Young, of animals, their pleasures as
Truth, 290 ;
—
adduced as holding that
evincing the benevolence of God, ii.
Misery is Preponderant over Happi-
155.
ness in human life, ii. 143.
Young, (Dr. Matthew, of Dublin,) quoted
World, (Of the,) authorship of the
on the difference of Causes, ii. 24, 25.
Greek treatise so entitled, ii. 34,
(Note B,) 379, 380.

Zenobius, records an adage in regard

Xenophon, quoted as to the Beauty of to Pity, i. 191.
Virtue, i. 3 3
1
;
—
as to the argument for Zwingli, quoted as holding that Self-
the existence of God from Design, ii. Love is the original sin, i. 2 1 4.